Oh God, EA have gone all Zen. Obviously it's taken advice from some kind of Yogic flyer hovering nearby, perhaps over the swan-encrusted pond bounding their glass-fronted techno-lair near Heathrow. Obviously. In a nearby tower, the shadowy eye sockets of air traffic controllers deepen as they lean closer to their radars. In a distant bunker, faceless secret service men squeeze greasy, standard-issue plastic headphones to their ears, straining through the static to catch the Yogi's words. 'To be ...