Even worse when you consider 64 pounds in 1840 is approx 8000 pounds in today’s value
Converting money from longer before, say, the 1930s is really hard. Simply calculating inflation doesn't really work, since things have really shifted in what they cost. White bread was a luxury food, indoor lighting was insanely expensive, but living in central London was dirt cheap.
There used to be a show on the BBC called Time Commanders, which was basically some random people playing fancy Rome Total War.
It was simultaneously hilarious and cringe as hell. I distinctly remember shouting "that's just a decorative bit of scenery, not a watchtower! Fucking ignore it!"
Cratchit actually makes a pretty OK salary. 15 shillings a week (65 pound per month) is not bad for the 1840s, according to some sources. Though it seems a tad low for skilled labour from a clerk, it's almost twice what unskilled workers might make, and nicely on par with what a junior clerk might make in other cities at the time.
It's not that Scrooge is underpaying him (well, a bit), it's that he's a miser and only cares about money, because he has no idea what he's causing.
The terrible reality is that if you sent a dead corporate partner and three ghosts to the houses of modern billionaires, they'd probably just feel vindicated and happy that their actions are having the intended effect.
Simon is just a moron who comes to the wrong conclusions constantly. I also found it extremely annoying to play a protagonist who is just demonstrably wrong about everything, and has emotional outbursts at everyone trying to improve the situation.
Having Simon as the main character constantly had me feeling like one of the reveals would be that the scanning process was imperfect and somehow left him mentally damaged. Alas, it seems he was just naturally gifted with the emotional control and abstract reasoning abilities of a toddler.
I get that it's hard to explain a story in the internal monologue of a first-person character, so having them be oblivious is a great way to explain things to the player. But Soma felt likt it was actively insulting my intelligence by assuming I needed a drool-proof keyboard.
Someone who was my age when I was a stupid kid told me that me being 16 and them being 40 meant they had 22 years experience in being an adult, and I had zero.
This sounds like literally every single time a slightly new weapon is invented or hypothesized. We've seen the death of the tank a dozen times, the end of the surface warship three dozen times and the end of the infantry soldier a thousand times in the writing of armchair warriors across the world.
A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step.