Only Pocket God creators Bolt Creative could work the Friends theme song into a trailer for a game update about spreading a plague and burning the corpses of pygmies.

Pocket God Episode 46: Germs of Endearment is now live, giving the players' pygmies access to the Plague Room, an incredibly ill-advised playroom containing a fountain that spews disease. Do not go into that room, I repeat, do not go... you're going into that room, aren't you? I guess I shouldn't expect much from someone that willingly visits Apocalypse Island.

Thank goodness there's also a fountain that spews the cure for the plague. Both the plague and the cure are contagious, so it's a race against time to see... you're already dead, aren't you?

Dammit.

Get Pocket God here.

Artist Invader has a theme: Space Invaders. His homages to the little 8-bit enemies show up all over the world, on art and loose in wild, showing up in all manner of places where one might not ordinarily expect them.

In this case, he went to the Bay of Cancun, where sculptor Jason Taylor deCaires had a number of submerged sculptures. The result? Cheerful little Space Invaders, only now, I suppose, they must be Ocean Invaders.

I suppose they're like the Spanish Inquisition, really: nobody expects them. And yet, there they are.

Invader New Underwater Invasion, Cancun, Mexico [Street Art News via Neatorama]

The kindest thing I can say about the Imperator Pro, a gaming keyboard from Taiwanese company Genius, is that it works exactly as advertised. Keys, both standard and programmable, function as intended and do what a user would expect them to. That's a big plus, in a keyboard.

Sadly, there are also a number of unkind, but equally true, things to say about the Imperator Pro. Let's just run down a quick list:

• Light bleed. When number lock is on, the light bleeds over into caps lock. The red lights for lock are also enough brighter than the keyboard's natural backlighting that they're distracting, keep catching the corner of my eye and making me wonder, "what's that?"
• Hard to read typeface. The laser-etching doesn't look crisp; it looks cheap and shoddy, as if someone had muffed the edges of the stencil. The symbol row above the numbers is particularly bad — I can see half of the @, half of the #, and if I didn't know what the ^ was I wouldn't be able to tell. The interior structures of the keys are also visible through the etching, making some figures hard to read.
• Rough feeling. The matte key surface, which at first seemed like a brilliant idea, ended up feeling rough and high-friction against my fingers. Although it wasn't flaking in the slightest, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was sticking to my fingers, and kept expecting to see flecks of black paint stuck to my hands.
• Loud typing. It kind of started to sound like 1994 in here, with the loud and hollow noises of typing echoing around. If the Imperator Pro were a mechanical keyboard, the noise would make sense — but it's not.
• Cramped feeling. The so-called palm rest at the bottom isn't really much of a palm rest, and the keys feel crammed in together. Between the two, I find that I keep pulling my hands up, as if to try to use the "palm rest" under my actual palms or wrists instead of under the ball of my hand, and that's making me hold my fingers like claws.
• Bad backlighting. I thought the default color of the keyboard's LED lighting was a soft seafoam green. I actually liked it. Then I installed the drivers and started playing with the settings and realized: that was actually its interpretation of white. The green cast affected a number of other colors I tried, as well.

The Imperator Pro is not a feature-heavy keyboard, and so it would be great if the features it did have worked exceptionally well. Sadly, they don't. The rainbow lighting in the demo pictures is misleading; the keyboard can be set to only one color at a time—though it can be made to blink at different speeds, should you want it to. The dual USB ports are handy, because for some reason the keyboard has a dual plug into the PC, so you get both slots back. And the programmable keys are, well, programmable keys.

This is a gaming keyboard that tries hard to mimic the features that are important to gamers, but it's not particularly innovative or good at doing that. And as for just plain being a keyboard — that delightful multi-tool that lets you use a computer to its utmost — well, it's not great at that either.

I'm not just a gamer; I'm a writer. I spend every day typing, a lot. I write up stories, I write e-mails, I communicate through IMs and Twitter. This keyboard doesn't feel like a tool that helps me communicate; it feels like an obstacle that hinders me while I try to do so. And while I was able to steer around inside of MMORPGs just fine using it, the cramped feeling that left me constantly hitting the wrong buttons while typing didn't do me any favors while reaching for in-game hotkeys, either.

Were the Imperator Pro sold as an inexpensive entry-level keyboard, it might be worth it. However, in the $60 - $90 price range that it sells for across the web, there are dozens of other options from a whole host of manufacturers that will likely better suit most gamers.

I had actually started to feel badly for the Imperator Pro by the time I swapped my normal keyboard back in on Tuesday. I took it out of its box carefully on Saturday morning, and yet by Sunday afternoon, the paint on the "A" had already developed a tiny chip on the corner. The feeling that the Imperator Pro was cheap and badly made didn't dissipate as I used it; it got worse.

The concept of a low-profile, simple keyboard with a quick set of programmable keys, and a one-touch way to swap them, is a good one. In theory, I like what the Imperator Pro says it will do. In practice, though, it has a long way to go.

Come Monday, October 1 the agreement between toy maker Hasbro and game maker Zynga finally bears fruit (and vegetables), as physical games based on digital favorites hit store shelves. Who's up for some Hungry Hungry Farmville?

If anything can pry your Zynga game-loving friends and family off the computer, it's Hasbro's line of games and toys, social games the way we used to do them back in the hood — face-to-face.

In the case of Draw Something and Words with Friends, it's a relatively easy transition. Both social games are based of off physical games in the first place, so it's only a matter of retooling Pictionary and Scrabble — both Hasbro properties — to reflect the game properties. Presto, chango! Now we've got three different sizes of Words with Friends, the travel size ($14.99), normal size ($19.99), and the Luxe version with rotating board, and a $19.99 version of Draw Something that comes with four different color crayons.

FarmVille and CityVille are a bit trickier, but Hasbro seems to have it under control. CityVille Monopoly ($24.99) was a natural choice, really, and packaging stuffed FarmVille animals with classic card games for $9.99 sounds like a plan. The CityVille Skies game ($12.99) gives players a 3D blimp to use on their iPod, piloting it over the streets of a virtual city.

The most inspired choice, however, was the FarmVille Hungry Hungry Herd game ($22.99). Talk about milking the nostalgia.

Most of these products come with special bonuses for the video games they represent (FarmVille and CityVille cash, Words with Friends bonuses), so even if your loved one has no interest in the physical world they still get something out of the bargain. I know my Christmas shopping just got a whole lot easier.

The true heart and essence of Guild Wars 2 lies in its map.

It took me three weeks of playing and a chat with my colleague Kirk to realize and articulate how much magic lies in that seemingly simple function. The map of Tyria isn't just utilitarian; it's beautiful. Even mired in the fog of war, the painterly brush strokes hint at all manner of terrain to explore underneath.

But it's more than just the art. Where every other MMORPG I've played directs my attention inward, to a personal quest journal or log, GW2 directs my attention outward, explicitly asking me to take a more global view. Every quest I can complete appears on the map, from the permanent, static heart quests to the mobile, dynamic events. Vista points, seen and unseen, show on the map, as do points of interest and places where I can earn skill points. Perhaps most importantly, downed players—whether or not they are in my guild or group—appear on the map as well.

Guild Wars 2's map isn't just a record of where I have been; it's a living guide to all the places I have yet to go and all the things I have yet to do.

During a full month playing Guild Wars 2, I recorded impressions in a series of logs. The first was where I discovered an insatiable need to explore. In the second, I marveled at how easy it was to get off the beaten path, how unnecessary it seemed to be to form a party, and how generally amiable the community was. Part three was where I discovered crafting, and in log four I hopped into world vs world PvP and fell off rather a lot of cliffs.

The constant thread running through all my experiences was how truly impressed I remain with the very deliberate tactics ArenaNet has taken to try to break players of the habit of a personal, linear ladder that so many previous MMORPGs have instilled in us. Other games have taught me to view other players as competition, or as danger. If another player and I arrived on a dock in EverQuest II at the same time, we'd make a point of steering in opposite directions from each other as we ran into the zone, to avoid getting in each other's way with harvests or kills. A recent foray into World of Warcraft has left me feeling that other players are something I have to wade through to get where I'm going. In these, and in nearly other multiplayer game I've ever tried, the existence of other players only helps me when I am intentionally in a group with them.

Not so in Guild Wars 2. Every event that shows up in or near my path is a moment that inspires a silent but fervent hope from me that there are other players around. Diving into a massive melee is fun; finding myself all alone, with a half-dozen waves of enemies bearing down on me, is not. And yet becoming overwhelmed at an event isn't the end of the world, even it if it is briefly the end a character's life. (Death, fortunately, is but a fleeting and easily remedied condition.) Zones are set up in a state of perpetual warfare: if players cannot defend a location, well then they can help retake it later. After pirates managed to blow up one bridge, a new wave of players came by, helped resurrect me and the other player that had been standing on the bridge when it blew, and then we all worked together to defend the workers repairing it.

That spirit of perpetual cooperation in a living, breathing world is truly what sets Guild Wars 2 apart. The generally joyful, cooperative feeling is enhanced by the way the game measures progression. There are eighty levels, fairly standard, but every action a player takes contributes to a single bar of experience. Crafting, exploration, combat, questing, event participation, even throwing a rez on another player—every action contributes to growth. Nor are skills entirely dependent on a player's level. Hotbar slots do unlock at levels 10, 20, and 30, and players can fill those slots with powerful skills.

Weapon skills, though, are based entirely on the weapons a player has chosen to equip. If I fight with a dagger in each hand, I will learn a certain five skills. If I swap the main hand dagger for a gun, I'll learn three new skills for slots 1-3 in lieu of the dagger skills I had there. If I swap the off-hand dagger for a gun, slots 4 and 5 change. It's a modular system that sounds complex but that becomes intuitive and fluid almost instantly on playing.

Over the past few years, there has been a trend in massively multiplayer online games that has seen them become ever more single-player experiences that take place in a shared world. Guild Wars 2 reverses the trend handily, without ever once prescribing particular "social" actions for its players. No player must participate in a group event, and swooping by to rez a fallen player or lending a hand in any fight you run by are entirely optional acts. And yet, the way the game is arranged, players do tend to stop to help each other out.

The end result is a game that feels a bit like Cheers. Everyone may not exactly know your name, or be glad that you personally came, but it's still a world that welcomes your presence. Tyria can be difficult to navigate at times, but in a way that feels playful and mischievous rather than hostile. Above all, Guild Wars 2 feels encouraging and fair. Death and failure are not particularly difficult to overcome, and become challenges rather than punishments.

If I get lost by stepping off the beaten path, there will always be another path to find. If I die falling off a high vantage point, it will have been my own fault for climbing up there to begin with. If I am severely under-leveled for an area, it's because I chose to ignore the level guidance prominently displayed on my map. When I get in over my head with a bunch of adds, I will almost always have had adequate warning that the area was dangerous. With waypoints scattered fairly liberally around most areas, reviving at one and making my way back to where I was usually doesn't set me back all that far.

Guild Wars 2 is likewise forgiving in its dungeon environments, for which I found myself very grateful on my first foray into the Ascalonian Catacombs. It's the first group zone in the game, and yet it doesn't appear until a player is roughly level 30. Events in the player's character story lead to it, and allow the player to enter in story mode. After, players can return to explore the dungeon in a more traditional exploration mode.

While the dungeon itself is a fairly straightforward and predictable mix of trash mobs and bosses, laid out in an easy shape, learning how to approach one for the first time with GW2's particular mix of class skills can be an adventure of the repeatedly fatal kind. Additionally, the more players are casting in a particular area, the harder it is to spot the warning signs of AOE effects or traps about to splash fire, spikes, or another variety of pain on your location. Though the problem of visual spectacle overwhelming useful information is hardly limited to dungeons alone.

What I feel as I play Guild Wars 2 is something I have not felt in this kind of game in a very long time. In it, I am not just a player who happens to be moving through a game that other players also enjoy. Instead, I am part of a community and part of a world that constantly reacts to my presence in it—even if some of those reactions are clearly on a loop. My urge to explore just for the sake of finding things is not only tolerated, but encouraged and for once, I am relishing the part of "massively multiplayer" that brings other players to my side.

Guild Wars 2 is not structured as a deeply competitive game, and players who strive only for the best gear, the fastest leveling, and the sharpest end-game technique will likely miss most of what it has to offer. Rather than seeing the absence of an end-game focused quest and gear ladder as a lack, though, I see it as a blessing. It is a journey that gives me great pleasure to explore.

As for the destination? I really have no idea where it all will end. But I will enjoy taking my time—and discovering every single point on every map—on the way there.

You want to know how a free-to-play iPhone game keeps a guy that barely has time to play new releases engrossed for more than 365 days? I have one day left to breed a Solstice dragon, and three days to breed a Sapphire. Curse you, Dragonvale.

I first wrote about Backflip Studios' Dragonvale in December of last year, after realizing I had been playing it for months and never got around to writing about it. I stopped briefly between last January and March. When I came back I discovered that I had missed my chance to breed the Leap Year Dragon — a chance that wouldn't come again for four years.

I vowed never again to miss a limited time dragon.

Dragonvale, as you may have surmised, is a game about raising and breeding dragons. You build habitats based on the various dragon elements, hatch dragon eggs, grow food to raise their levels and then start mixing and matching within the romantic confines of the breeding cave. Habitats generate gold, which can be used to buy more habitats, eggs, and decorations to make your various islands prettier. Folks without an iPhone or iPad can play the copycat Dragon City on Facebook for a similar experience.

It's that desperation to not miss a single specimen that keeps me playing, and undoubtedly drives the game's in-app purchases. By buying gems (you can earn them slowly without paying as well), players can bypass the often punishingly random breeding process and secure rare spawns with little effort.

The rarest of dragons are incredibly expensive. The most expensive in the market currently, the Rainbow Dragon, runs 2,500 gems. 1,500 gems costs $49.99 in real money. A few months back a Backflip Studios rep gifted me some 16,000 gems. I have a little under 300 left.

I've also missed the thrill of breeding deadlines. Now I'm broke once more, and I've got hours left to earn the Solstice dragon. Backflip recently introduced Gemstone Dragons, a series of 12 creatures that correspond to the birthstones of the months of the year. I've collected four so far, but only have three days to get September's Sapphire Dragon. If I miss it, I wait a year to try again. I cannot let that happen.

See? It's pure evil, the way Dragonvale works. You can get it on the iTunes App Store right now. You've missed a great deal, but you don't ever have to miss out on another dragon again. One of us. One of us,

Halo Waypoint released a massive amount of new Halo 4 screenshots for us to feast our eyes on. These include campaign shots (beware that spoilers might follow in several of those in reference to the Dawn and Infinity missions), multiplayer mode War Games and cooperative mode Spartan Ops.

War Games includes a Flood "simulation," where you'll see infected Spartan soldiers.

Campaign

Spartan Ops

War Games

Pigs might fly in the new game from the creators of Angry Birds. But only if you build them a helicopter, a plane or whatever you call a crate that's tied to a balloon and propelled by a house fan.

I've been playing Rovio's new game on my iPad on and off for the past day. It's officially out tomorrow. The first thing I'm telling people? It's hard! Way harder than Angry Birds. It's also somehow simultaneously just like it and not like it at all.

It's like Angry Birds in that you're trying to get your characters—the pigs who you used to squash in Angry Birds—from the one side of a level to the other, hoping that the game's physics gives you the lucky bounces you need.

It's not like Angry Birds in that this is no aim-shoot-hope-for-the-best game. This is a game about building contraptions, using the parts given to you, and then driving that contraption from one side of the level to the next. You get a set number of pieces of various types: boxes, propellors, balloons, wings, rockets, etc. You piece them together to craft a crazy car or plane that you think will get you through the level. You have manual control of the vehicle's engines and propellors (or soda bottles... whatever you're using to push things along), so even after things start moving, you need to control what's happening a lot more than you do in many Angry Birds levels.

The video up top shows all of this. It shows the good, the awkward and, most of all, it shows just how devilish the game can be. Making the right vehicle is tough.

A friend who was playing the game lamented that the game's main levels don't encourage enough experimentation. You really do have to make the vehicle that Rovio wants you to make. That was fine with me, I told him. Angry Birds was essentially a twitch-controlled puzzle game. There is a way to three-star each level, but doing that is more about figuring out what Rovio wants you to do than just depending on lucky bounces. That's the same here. There's a vehicle Rovio wants you to make to three-star the level. But figuring out what it is is the devious mystery of the game. The bonus levels, especially Bad Piggies' Sandbox, are for creating crazy vehicles that they didn't intend for you to make.

We shot 13 minutes of the game to show you all of this. Please take a look above.

Bad Piggies will be out for iOS and Android on September 27. The standard version will cost $0.99. The HD version (for iPads) is $2.99. PC and Mac versions will follow.

UPDATE: A Rovio rep says there will also be a free, ad-supported version for Android.

Error 37 and Error 3003 might have been the popular ones in Diablo III's first burst of popularity, but the Mega64 folks have found quite a few other..."interesting" ones.

I rarely shield my eyes from anything, especially not from a silly YouTube video, but Error 5 really horrified me. I guarantee you haven't seen Error 5: Too Much Poopsocking in your rounds of Diablo III.

Ok, I *hope* you haven't seen that error...

Mega64: DIABLO 3 - NIGHT OF 1000 ERRORS [YouTube]

With an impressive 15 billion apps and games downloaded in the past year alone, Google has every reason to celebrate reaching the 25 billion apps milestone. And so do Android gamers, as a celebratory sale delivers titles like Angry Birds Space Premium and NFL Kicker 2013 for a quarter of a dollar.

With more than 675,000 apps and games on Google Play and shiny new Android phones and tablets reaching more hands every day, 25 billion is a number that should shoot up like a rocket by next year, so the five-day sale in the Google Play store is something you should hop on right now, rather than wait for next year's dollar event.

The selection of games and apps available at the celebratory price will rotate each day for five days, so frequent checking is encouraged. Along with the sale apps, Google play will also be offering special 25 item media collections, such as 25 banned books, 25 albums that changed the world or 25 random things grouped together to fit the theme.

Here's to 25 billion more downloads!

Google Play hits 25 billion downloads [Official Android Blogspot]