This week I am broadcasting from an internet café deep on the Costa Rican beachfront. There is a dog here, of unrecognisable breed, which is growling and whining at something intangible, perhaps its own existence. Although the free games explosions of recent weeks, attributed to the Global Game Jam, have been a testing time for us all, I want you to know that I am safe and will continue my correspondence in exile with as much verve and courage as would be expected in the smoggy heart of London, where I am told my ghost still lingers, like a stench on the wind.
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