The Robotic Shed is almost entirely occupied by the treachorusly renowned bounder and ne’er-do-well Dan Lawrence. He’s not led a tremendously worthy life, nor even one full of mild peril or balloons. Despite that he’s put this ridiculous history of himself here to try and sucker you into caring about his meaningless existence.
Dan Lawrence spent his early, nostalgia forming years, glued to the magical joy device known commonly as the Amiga. When he wasn’t feasting on the broad palette of gaming that this magnificent machine provided, he used it to fiddle with Deluxe Paint and craft utterly ridiculous and embarrasing point-and-click adventures in GRAC. These were crucial, mind shaping years. Probably.
The age of the Amiga wasn’t to last for ever though and our hero was forced, reluctantly at first, into the arms of the IBM compatible PC. The age of 3D face shooters and million hour long isometric RPGs had begun and Dan indulged in both gluttonously. After a few abortive attempts the first released works marked with his hand began to emerge as so called ‘total conversions’ or ‘Mods’ of the most popular multiplayer first-person-perspective gun battlers . While hard to locate in the modern age, diarists of the time called these works ‘not all bad’ and ‘unsuprisingly full of guns’.
A career in videogame artifice clearly beckoned for our fresh faced youth. Thinking on his feet, he sought to capitalise on these rudimentry talents by signing up immediately for a philosophy based degree at university. It wasn’t long however before the old habits resurfaced, and he eventually exited education straight into the heady world of game retail. By glancing occasionally at the DVD cases of collected ‘computer game wisdom’ gathered around him he sought to somehow obtain the insight of their creators and thus gain a sliver of their powers. Something must have worked because it wasn’t long before Dan was exiting the world of shopping and heading to the smoke stacks of the big game factories.
The time in the factories was long, the work challenging and the stench of burning rubber sometimes literally overpowering. However, despite these trials, within four years Dan had paid his dues and was able to semi-gracefully emerge from the factory as a mostly-trained ludic wrangler. He spent a year wandering in the wilderness honing his craft on bits of stick and scrawling so-called ‘designs’ on strips of bark with charcoal.
Dan is now being transported in a secure vehicle to That London, the utterly secret power source of her majesty’s United Kingdom. Once there he will try and do something useful for a change, apparently.