This took some fiddling (as you’ll read it’s more about the order you do things and less about what you are doing, it’s not complicated if you stick to the plan) so I thought I’d share with you. The MOGA Pocket is a controller for Android, to use it you need to download some propitiatory software (MOGA Pivot) – this let’s you see what Android games have been specifically developed for use with the MOGA kit. That’s great, but what if you want to use the controller for software which hasn’t (anything which allows key mapping from an Android virtual keyboard, specifically Emulators)?
Well, it’s possible!
The first thing you’ll need to do is install the following app on your Android device:
Then setup your MOGA device as per the instructions. Once this is all installed the procedure for using it correctly isn’t so much difficult as “structured” – you have to do things in order to make it work.
You want to play a MOGA Native Game:
- Great – turn the Android device on.
- Launch MOGA Pivot.
- Launch the game from the Games Library area.
You want to play a not natively supported game or Emulator:
- Turn on your Android Device.
- Launch MOGA Universal Driver.
- Kill MOGA Pivot – make sure it’s not running (there is a link to help with this in the Driver menu).
- Enable the virtual keyboard from the menu.
- Launch your emulator.
- This works.
- If you do it in any other order… it won’t.
- Tested on various Emulators as working on Galaxy S4!
And it’s that simple kids! This really is a great device, and I am having a lot of fun with it. If you want to get one for yourself you can buy it at a really good price on Amazon!
Posted on November 30, 2013.
So I’ve been in Santa Monica a little over two weeks now and I think it’s fair to say that I utterly hate it, most people in it, and everything it professes to stand for. I do however finally get the dig that Demolition Man was making all those years ago – and feel rather foolish and ignorant that it’s taken me this long to understand the big joke. You see the thing about Santa Monica is that it’s trying extremely hard to be a modern Utopia – people have bought into this, and a huge swath of the population here actively work toward the agenda of defining the Santa Monica reality as a utopia in embryo.
But the definition of a utopia here seems to me to be willingly totalitarian.
America is, we are lead to believe The Land of the Free – and here in Santa Monica, the very end of the legendary Route 66, and in California no less; one of the most liberal places on Earth (if you believe the tourist literature) this being the case or not it is not legal to smoke anywhere. And by anywhere, I don’t mean (to my mind the reasonable); in malls, in the millions of shabby overdone and overpriced restaurants or even the beach front (no one needs their kids digging in sand and fag butts, I get that).
What I mean is; it is not legal to smoke anywhere in the city of Santa Monica. This includes your own apartment. The law (recently passed) breaks down, as accurately as you can break down this deliberately obtuse civil ordnance as “You cannot smoke within 25 feet of someone, or where someone might be.” This includes air vents into places of potential work or residence.
Indeed, the only place I’ve worked out that it’s ‘probably ok’ to smoke by the strict letter of the authoritarian law is the second largest bridge over Pacific Highway (a monument to the 80’s if ever I saw one) toward the iconic Santa Monica pier; there are “please put out your cigarette” bins on both sides (the only such bins left in the entire city as far as I can see), and fag butts on the bridge. However there is still some degree of assumption on my behalf going on here that this old creaking pedestrian bridge over the interstate is fair game for the desperate smoker. No one has specifically gone out of their way to confirm this with signs saying “smoking area” or “smoking ok” or anything so simple – it’s more or less the people of Santa Monica, or those in charge, are prepared to ignore smoking here but could, in theory, proclaim it off limits at any moment on a whim. This is a city trait I have found prevalent here; people in Santa Monica are really good at ignoring things when it suits them and being completely in your face about them when it doesn’t suit them so much.
Most importantly people in Santa Monica are really good at ignoring other people. I am used to being ignored, and frankly I’d rather be ignored than engaged by most of the vapid vaguely animated plastic personalities wandering around the overly clean streets, fake wholesome group community dancing groups (which are actually here to elicit money from the pockets of passers-by like everything else in this tourist trap) and aforementioned overpriced bars and restaurants, however I am not so used to the privileged being quite so comfortable ignoring the hundreds, possibly thousands of clearly mentally ill homeless people who wander the streets of Santa Monica like a surreal Dawn of the Dead spin off – one in 10 people on any given street here appear to be homeless and mentally ill. I come from London and have spent a sizable chunk of my life in that broken Capitol. We have homeless people too… we at least look uncomfortable as we walk past them and ignore them – I’ve always considered the Londoner quite callous in this regard to be frank (and I personally try my best to not ignore these people where possible and appropriate) but no, we’re positively humanitarian as a culture in comparison to the atmosphere of ‘if you ignore it it’s not your problem’ that perseveres here in the wonderful city of Santa Monica.
The most disgusting lump of hypocrisy I have witnessed (I can think of no better term than lump) in respect to this was a “Mental Health Charity Walk” I had the misfortune of witnessing – which seemed to consist of around 50 white, upper class wholesome Americans wandering up Ocean Drive with banners proclaiming they in principle supported mental health as a cause. They were doing this while ignoring the fact they were quite literally surrounded by homeless people who clearly suffer from mental illness. They were not, in so far as I can see even attempting to collect money from anyone – they were certainly not helping the people 10 feet from them as they marched with arrogant self-righteousness, no doubt toward Starbucks where a group circle jerk was so obviously incoming. All of this as if somehow, their mere presence, the fact they have opined would make a difference and elicit wondrous change with no real effort, understanding or investment on their behalf. A nice walk in the sun to make a difference! Which of course those of us who live in the real world know, it won’t.
I can only assume they meant ‘we support rich white people who have mental illness and healthcare plans – like Brittney. If not… fuck ‘em.’ That is certainly how it came across to a stranger in this odd land.
The sheer power of misplaced self-belief in Santa Monica has morphed into a truly frightening form of socio economically segregated group delusion. Santa Monica isn’t real – it’s a tragic collision of the privileged and the lost – underpinned by the one group ignoring the other in almost complete totality while loudly proclaiming everything is just great. In summary Santa Monica is not the utopia the grinning fitness freaks, and trendy social media experts will sell to you. It’s a terrifying representation of a world depicted in early 90’s cyberpunk literature become real.
Santa Monica of 2013 is an archetypal and frightening dystopia.
Posted on October 8, 2013.