While I don’t yet have my own copy of Dawn of War II: Retribution — it’s not released in the UK until the 4th — I’ve updated my wargear lists with some early details on gear for the new Last Stand character, the Lord General, thanks to feedback from ultrasloth7. I’ll be updating and cleaning up the list as soon as I get a chance to play the game, of course, but for now you can find all of the information I’ve acquired so far by clicking right here. Of course, it’s not at all complete yet, but I’ll be updating it with new information as soon as I get it.

I’ve also recently updated the other wargear lists crediting the other people who have given information to help complete them; I used to do that right away at first, but after a while forgot to keep it updated. Apologies for that, but as they say, it’s better late than never!

Note: This is one of a few posts written back in 2010 that have been sitting in my drafts folder forever. In lieu of much else to say lately, I’m going to start slowly clearing out the folder and posting the entries that have been waiting so long to see the light of day, starting with this one. (Originally written in May 2010.)

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I’ve been meaning to branch out from the territory of energy shots and cover full-sized energy drinks on this blog for a while now, but the right time never seems to come. Well, it’s about that time now, and I’m going to start off with something fairly basic but also one of my personal favourites: The standard, green variety of Monster Energy.

First and foremost, it should be mentioned that Monster is not for the faint of heart — and I mean that quite literally. While the shot version contained a whopping 141mg of caffeine (the highest by far I’ve seen so far in a shot), the canned variety hits a new level with a stunning 160mg. It’s also loaded with taurine, panax ginseng, L-carnitine, D-glucuronolactone, inositol, guarana, riboflavin, niacin, and vitamins B6 and B12. Monster truly lives up to its name, and in a 500ml can, that’s a whole lot of energy to go around.

With that kind of potent mix of chemicals and vitamins, experience might show that the flavour would be impeded. How does one go about mixing such a smörgåsbord of compounds without the result tasting like something from the waste pipes of an ICI chemical factory? I don’t know the answer to that question, but Monster sure as hell do — this behemoth of an energy drink is head and shoulders above the crowd as my favourite, with the energy shots and the full-size cans of various flavours (I’ll cover the yellow, blue, and orange variants in future posts) all winning a place in my heart. The energy-providing effects are nothing to shake a stick at, either, though I honestly think that’s a given with caffeine drinks — they all work just fine, but some of them are nicer than others.

Speaking of flavour, Monster never fails to provide in spades: The standard (green) variety I’m looking at today is an extremely sweet mixture with a slightly sharp edge, clean and refreshing without being too cloying, though it may be a tad too sweet for some. It’s hard to really make out any distinct flavour in the pandemonium, though; it’s clear that they’re making an attempt at some kind of fruity mixture, but the sweeteners tend to form the core aspect of the flavour. This is not particularly helped by the cryptic inclusion of “natural flavourings” on the ingredients list, among a long list of sugary sweeteners — sucrose, glucose syrup, sucralose, maltodextrin.

Let this not sound like a criticism, however, as there’s a good reason why I consider Monster to be the king of the energy drinks throne, its mysterious and yet thoroughly delicious flavour trumping the competition time and time again. The only thing that truly perplexes me is the way it seems to make an effort to appear powerful and badass, like it’s the kind of drink that a grizzled biker would chug down before going on a drug-addled rampage; Relentless and its more sober flavours suit this image far more, and Monster is just left looking awkwardly out of place like the one goth kid in a room full of Mormons. Perhaps the sheer, condensed experience of the imbued chemicals makes it worthy of the image, but it still feels like a tiger-striped kitten trying to be fierce.

Metaphors aside, Monster Energy is a tasty and effective energy drink that I’d recommend to anyone whose digestive system can handle the maelstrom of molecules. If you need energy and you need it fast, this is the place to look!

In a fit of insomnia-derived boredom last night, I read through the entirety of Death Troopers by Joe Schreiber, one of many novels based in the Star Wars universe. This book had been sitting on my shelf waiting to be read for some time now, and while I was well aware of what to expect from the cover art — a bloodied and broken Stormtrooper helmet hanging by a shattered eyepiece from a meat-hook — I’m utterly unsurprised to say that it was exactly what I expected; no more, and no less. As a warning, there will be some spoilers in this review.

To begin with, I’ll say that this could only loosely be considered a Star Wars novel at all, aside from a loose association with the universe and awkward inclusion of some characters from the movies, and could easily have fit just as well into any other space sci-fi setting. Rather than being game-changing canon, it opts instead to be a simple yet entertaining, trashy novel about everyone’s favourite over-used cliché: zombies. Unfortunately — though perhaps predictably — Schreiber opts for the Scott Sigler approach to horror, which is to say, little to no actual “horror” elements, nothing in particular to make the reader frightened or unsettled, but instead simply a relentless influx of brutal, putrid gore. In fact, there was barely a single element to the story which made me have any reaction at all, aside from one particular part involving an orphaned wookiee child which managed to tug at my proverbial heart-strings a little, and an eye-roll-inducing scene later, where the abhorrent, sociopathic, murderous Imperial officer has a last-minute change of heart for the greater good. Not at all clichéd or out of place, Joe.

With the obligatory bashing aside, it was still a novel worth reading once — albeit only for the trashy entertainment value — though I doubt it’ll take up permanent residence on many peoples’ bookshelves. The writing was solid, the setting was largely believable (within its fantasy universe) with a few genuinely unexpected twists amidst the tropes, the visceral gore was enough to satisfy most fans of that particular brand of horror, and the whole thing is lightweight enough to churn through in one evening, or one particularly long train journey. For successfully walking the line between Star Wars sci-fi and visceral horror, it deserves at least some recognition; just don’t expect a literary epic that you’ll re-read time and time again.

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When faced with too little sleep and a mountain of tasks that must be performed before my woefully undersized apartment is assaulted by several blood-hungry gamers, caffeine is the light at the end of the tunnel, the saviour in the dark times. At such an occasion, what better than to sample an energy shot I’d been previously gifted for Christmas, the misleadingly-named Health Energy Potion, an obvious attempt — along with its brother, the Mana Energy Potion — to appeal to the nature of RPG-players such as myself, with the assumption that we’ll simply soak up the dreadfully nerdy nature of the product in a manner not unlike osmosis. Unfortunately, they’re right; I’m a massive geek, and I find the idea of a real-world simulacra of health and mana potions to be shamefully appealing.

The question remains, however, how this whimsical product measures up against the more staple offerings of energy drink shots. Things got off to a bad start as I strained to make my way through the remarkably strong plastic covering — despite the ineffectual perforation — and struggled for a full minute with the “EasyOpen” seal, though perhaps this could be blamed on my general ineptitude. Finally, victory was mine, and this smallish — yet large for an energy shot — potion was ready for consuming.

Tradition first, of course, and with the falsely-named seal gone, a quick whiff of the crimson liquid revealed something I haven’t experienced for some time: regret. The kind of regret one can only experience after realizing that they really shouldn’t have made that bet to drink a gallon of milk in one go, but all their friends are watching and it’s too late to back out now. The kind of regret where you know the pain is coming, yet you simply have to man up and accept life’s sufferings. The fluid smelled like something I’d expect from an apothecary of yore — which is to say, a charred, acrid scent with a metallic hint of ozone. If mere water could be badly burned in the manner of an incompetent cook and then bottled, I think it’d smell something like this.

A cursory sip revealed something surprising, however. A sharp bite, somehow unlike the usual B-vitamin face-punch of most energy shots, which leaves a surprisingly fruity flavour in its wake, fading to an aftertaste which is more sugary sweetness than anything. The usual stomach-churning bitterness that makes up for the vast majority of aftertaste in the vast majority of energy shots is remarkably non-present. With time running short and jobs still to do, I bite the bullet and chug the rest of the potion in a single, determined motion, hoping this increase in hit points will help me get through the day — and again with the surprise, the entire bottle providing a solid mouthful yet somehow not at all unpleasant, the overriding fruity sweetness balancing the sharp edge and fading quickly after being swallowed. Mere moments after being consumed, it’s almost as though nothing was swallowed at all, save for the faintest of lingering reminders at the back of the throat.

It would appear that the Health Energy Potion has proven my initial suspicions thoroughly incorrect, and is in fact a remarkably pleasant little shot of chemicals providing a much-needed boost without the suffering that so often comes hand-in-hand with other products. While thoroughly gimmicky by nature, it still manages to be a solid and heartily recommendable product, a rare shining gem in a market flooded with dreadful alternatives.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my sword; I’ve got some dragons to slay.

I’ve always had a strange fascination with the “breakfast” menus at popular fast-food joints, not least in part because my largely nocturnal and significantly apathetic lifestyle could never normally justify rousing from sleep at such an abhorrent hour. I suppose in part it was simply a case that we all feel at some point in our lives, wishing to attain the seemingly unattainable. Another part, perhaps, is that I have a great deal of love for many so-called “breakfast” foods: sausages, eggs, bacon, and their assorted kin. This combination, along with my apparent inability to reach such houses of cuisine at the necessary hours — a fact I’d frequently find vexing — elevated such things to an almost supernatural status.

Today, however, thanks to a severely defective sleep pattern and an ever-growing, ravenous hunger caused by sheer apathy towards preparing foodstuffs, I stumbled upon a solution of sorts: it seemed likely — probable, even — that I’d still be awake at the hallowed hour of “breakfast”, and that perhaps — finally — I could partake in this long-awaited dream which so long had evaded me. Being an occasional purveyor of and living close to a McDonalds (now, now, don’t look at me like that — their Chicken Selects are actually fantastic), I hurriedly opened their website and browsed through the selection of offerings, enthusiasm growing with each passing moment.

Finally, my will — or, perhaps more accurately, my stomach — had settled on the fabled Double Sausage & Egg McMuffin, which seemed to not only satisfy the urge to sample the unattained, but also combined two food products which rate high on my list, that being eggs and sausages. Truly, this was the Holy Grail and nothing could stand in the way of my hunger crusade. The hours ticked by until reaching a time when I was fairly certain the blessed establishment would open, and burrito’d up in layers of clothing and a scarf to ward off the icy weather, I embarked upon my journey with high spirits, soon arriving at my destination. Victory was in sight!

The first pang of disappointment was in the size of the package. Yes, yes, I’m sure we’ve all been there before, but in all seriousness it was only when I unwrapped the shapeless lump that I began to experience regret for the first time in days, the rather sorry-looking miscreant dripping swiftly-congealing grease onto the table, a shrivelled and pale shadow of the sacred manna my mind had envisaged. They say you can’t judge a book by its cover, but this adage was also proven wrong as I took that first, regretful bite, a flavour which scarce needs describing for I’m sure your imagination can fill in the blanks. This was the light at the end of the tunnel, the goal I had so long sought? This pathetic excuse for food, which I could finish only through sheer force of will?

The moral lesson of the day, then, is that the more unattainable something seems, the more our minds are wont to build grand visages of unreachable wonders. It’s easy to wish for that which we do not have, especially that which seems difficult or impossible to ever reach, while losing sight of the things we already have — and, often, turn out to be preferable. The same could be said for all things in life, both material possessions and even people (this moral tale could easily apply to one or two of my exes, though I shall speak no more on the matter). In a nutshell, don’t wish too hard for what you don’t have, because it’s probably terrible anyway. If you reach for the stars, you’ll only end up discovering them to be little more than burning balls of gas.

And then you’ll be burned to a cinder in the million-degree-hot inferno, you short-sighted dumbass.