Projects 2010 > Operation Sonic Boom > Journal
"Did I just turn off gravity?" … "I'm pretty sure I didn't make a sound the frequency of bat sonar." … "It's nearly there, it just needs more explosions". The blissful soundtrack of splishy-splashing our development toes in the cool, refreshingly murky waters of the unknown. Over the last two weeks we've been hurling our mutated bodies at the walls of current research in the precious hope that they are made from delicious ice cream (the walls, not our bodies). "What have you got to show for it?" I hear you wail over the splintering thud of another breakthrough. Let me start a new paragraph and take you on a tour of the lab, remember to keep your hands and arms inside the carriage return at all times.
Rich is a Cornish shaman that started making sounds when he was only 2 seconds old, but don't just take him as a conjurer of cheap tricks. For 23 years he expertly crafted his voice, using a beard to accentuate his velvety undertones, notorious throughout the Searle family, which are so thick that you can use them as a pillow. When the idea of using abstract noises as an input method in games became a focus at Mutant Labs, he rose to the challenge, resolutely garbling "Flandalsalvij" at the top of his voice.
This is Andy. After moving to the South West, he smeared his Surrey accent with a peculiar overzealous laugh that begins at 35 Hz and deepens rapidly to inaudible frequencies. Although his voice is often heard in whale comedy cellars the world over, it is also used for very thorough research in the thickening plot of Operation: Sonic Boom.
The combination of these minds (and vocals) has led to methodical, deliberate tracking of the strange mythical beast known as success. This creature wallows in the darkest corners of the mind, accessible only through using a sound laser to forge a new connection from one high-powered neurone to another. Our synapses have strapped on their inspiration gators and are currently knee deep in group mathematics, examining the very basis of sound physics and the world of hertz, amplitude and Cuban jazz. Cutting through fundamental physics may seem an unstable and dangerous thing to do, but we generally patch it up before the Universe realises, so you don't need to worry.
Fresh from our holy quest into vibration logic, we threw ourselves on the back of our imperial stallions and charged to Bristol, where we were seated with digital knights of the highest order who challenged us with genteel advice and ferocious ideas. Well fed and impregnated with supreme knowledge, we made good our return journey to Plymouth having valiantly conquered a highway fraught with mind exhaustion, inebriated navigators and traffic jams. We took up strategic positions throughout the lab and began unleashing a torrent of flaming arrows deep into the void of 2 dimensional gameplay. As we resurface from the underbelly of deep maths, we are excited to return to a world where numbers and formulas are replaced by shiny moving things on the screen, and furrowed brows are replaced by eager grins.