INKY SQUIGGLES

When I think of the first video games I ever played, my thoughts gravitate towards titles like Zelda: Ocarina of Time (my first experience of an epic 3D quest) and Discworld (my first taste of maddening moon logic). These games had a profound impact on me; they opened me up to exciting new worlds that seemed, at the time, without limit. These worlds were so immersive and engaging that they remain firmly entrenched in my memory over twenty years later. To this day, the mnemonic 'twenty-three is number one' (the order in which you need to beat a series of deku scrubs in Zelda: OoT ) is more stubbornly etched in my memory than my own phone number. But when I think back further, it's not quite true that this was my first exposure to video games. The nineties and early noughties saw the increased affordability and mainstream adoption of personal computers in both homes and – for the first time – schools. This led to an edutainment (or educational video games) boom, and my UK p

J. Jonah Jameson, the editor everyone loves to hate, in  Marvel Knights Spider-Man The internet is teeming with people and companies marketing ultra-competitive editing and proofreading services. For the UK market alone, there's Dissertation Britain, British Proofreading, London Proofreaders, Oxbridge Editing, Cambridge Editing... and ever on. Quantity doesn't denote quality, however (Oxbridge 'connection' or no), and such a competitive landscape inevitably breeds unscrupulous individuals who run their businesses like the editing equivalent of a sausage factory. I should know – I worked for one early in my editing career, after all (my ex-employer would probably even agree with this assessment; he 'hilariously' referred to the company as a 'sausage factory' on more than one occasion). While their services might be comparatively cheap, you wouldn't want to pay for a manuscript with the editorial integrity of reconstituted mystery meat (this could act