There and Back Again: A Sight Seeing Tour of Procrastination Island

Hey internet. Miss me?

...Well you did need to say it like that.

Oh fine then! I hate you too!

Maybe I should just go?!

...

Oh...

No, no. I'm staying...

I mean it's my blog after all.

There and Back Again: A Sight Seeing Tour of Procrastination Island

 

I return from the depths of Mount Hiatus to force hot tasty opinion down your face holes! Is what I would be saying if all of my opinons hadn't been seized by customs along with the two bottles of Rum that had magically emptied themselves on the journey between a fictional island and my real life bedroom. Instead I bring the greatest gift of all, rambling musings!

It's been a nice month off (though by the time I finish writing this it's been more than that). Between the mandatory games of Kerplunk and regimental (though optional) games of Pass The Parcel I've been keeping busy. And by busy I mean hiding under my bed covers avoiding doing anything that slightly resembles work (except for my real life job which gives me physical real life money but that doesn't count because it's boring). When I had time to myself I screamed at the walls and cried for my first gameboy to sweep in and save me.

Spoiler: Turns out it was my Gameboy was the tyrannical ruler of Procrastination Island this whole time.

So the burning question on the mind of the five people who read this blog regularly and the dozen bots who are devoted to linking it to get slim quick websites (for some reason) is 'has our intrepid writer/poet/voice of the people/delusional everyman recovered sufficently to keep having mild rants on things he remembers?'

Yes. Yes he has.

I left for this Hiatus in the sun with vague nothings about personal problems. The Internet equivalent of a sabbatical to indulge in Russian Roulette. Said personal problems have been laid to rest (in one case literally, rest easy Nan) and I am feeling much better. On my sightseeing tour of anywhere-but-here I've also been looking for another job. This has been such a roaring success that, rather than take a new job I am going to keep job hunting just so I can carry on enjoy the exhilarating sensation of crushing disappointment (being measured in curse words and pints of tears).

SO. MUCH. FUN.

The question is however what the hell should I write about? Sure these long winded, poorly editted introductions are something of a trademark but normally there's something to them. I would love to think on it some more but I've recently started up my addiction to nerd crack again; also known as World of Warcraft.

But wait!

In a shocking twist! Our handsome hero/egotistical shop worker took so long in actually writing this post, he got over WoW and has since canceled his account. He also seems to have lost the ability to write in the first person...he finds this slightly worrying and wondering if it's putting people off...

Doing my best impression of dial up internet, by the time you get to read this I have started WoW, remembered why I quit and dropped it like a bad habit all over again. Just like I do every two years, except this time it had Pandas and Monks (gotta love those stereotypes! Why couldn't the cockney werewolves be the kung fu monks?)

How to make friends and influence pandas. (Warning: Pandas might not be as portrayed in photo)

Well, that's the article over. If I was a fan of brevity I would hit the big orange publish button in the corner and glory in a job well done.

Quite frankly, however, brevity can go play in a septic tank full of broken promises and unwashed glass.

What follows is a brief run down of the thoughts I enjoyed while I was busy not writing this article. 

For those of you who have never enjoyed slaving away hours of the day just to make a gnome with a grudge happy then let me explain (stop making that face, I'm sure someone out there hasn't). World of Warcraft is a massively multiplayer fantasy come steampunk RPG in which all the players are the greatest heroes of the land...all of you. As in every single player of the 7 million players. With so many people saving the world it's a wonder it's ever in danger.

Is it a party? A sale? An orgy?

You mainly do this via the medium of murder. Now many great games involve at least a little murder (often a lot) but WoW is special. It doesn't want one or two quality deaths we can all weep to afterwards; it demands quantity, scarily exact numbers. Don't just thin the herd of evil sheep, kill exactly 15 and bring me the tattered shreds of wool to prove it! If you only kill 14 then get the hell out of here, we don't need your lily-livered types around here!

And just like a rollacoaster you will traverse the different continents in a designated order, if you go anywhere else your either going to be eaten or bored. But if you follow the quite frankly tedious array of missions which revolve around ethnic cleansing of one species or another and stealing their stuff then congratulations! The world is saved - no thinking required. Just stay on the magic murder-a-bout!

Kill them all and let god sort them out.

Now there's a reason for the classic fantasy set up of us Vs them and it's one of the games original selling points. You have the pretty pretty Alliance and the monstrous Horde (until they added Blood Elves and suddenly the biggest diva's in game suddenly hung out with the ugly kids so they could all feel better.) For the uninitiated it might come as a surprise that people actually fall out in real life over what side they choose. I've had normally quite lovely people scream in the face because I chose Alliance over Horde. It's all for nothing however, the great war is in a constant stalemate. Other than a few maps that reset every half hour there's no chance of one side actually finishing the war. It's Purgatory as experienced by world war one veterans.

It's less of a magical fantasy world and more of a cheap electronic fun fair that takes regularly payments out of your account; complete with all the drunk arses and piss stained food stalls that you get with any real fun fair. The quests and story arcs are just the rides at that cretin filled fair. You will be told how important your quest is, the region depends on it! Nay! TEH WORLD!!1! Quick, use the power of cool down bars to beat anyone who isn't us!

Murder everyone with the power of waiting and counting!

However when the monsters are all slaughtered (don't worry though, they'll get better) or collect the ancient relics (which there are always more of) you'll be told well done. They'll write a nice big number on the score card your character is carrying around to prove what a great hero they are. Then politely asked to move on so the next hero in line can save the day.

Nothing changes in games like WoW. You can murder as many of the enemy, make as much money as possible but you can never settle back and enjoy a world thoroughly saved. You can never lay down your Epic Sword Of Blamo and live out the rest of your day's furthering Orcish poetry. No, if you go back to those battlefields & dungeons you'll see the same battles and the big bads you brought crashing down. Difference is it's someone else being the hero. Want to save the world again? get back in line.

Become the greatest hero of all time! - Waiting time 20 minutes.

This is nitpicking but it breaks any immersion the game could have (especially if your playing in the roleplay servers). The world is stuck on pause and your just playing a game. You are Sisyphus and the next level is your bolder. There is no satisfying conclusion, just more grinding for better gear.

But that complaint is as old as dirt (see Everquest and Ultima Online).The thing that made WoW special was the people, with a great community the illusion is suddenly complete. You were in a digital fun fair but now it's a digital fun fair with your mates and like minded strangers, you ARE the drunk arses and it's your piss staining the food stalls!

People would happily chat while committing genocide on the lesser races (because the automaton with the big numbers told you so). Hell, people have met and eventually married over this game and funerals held when a player has died (in real life that is, not in the game. That would slow proceedings right down). For a while the game was a buzzing hive of activity.

Good luck to find anyone to talk to now though. They only utter enough sylabols to demand that they get the best loot (traditionally "Fuck off, Mine.") This last time I played on a myriad of servers and tried to chat to most of the players I met only to be greeted with silence. It's like the Hush Gentlemen are visiting Azeroth.

Excuse me while I run screaming from the room...

Though in this three month marathon I did have one memorable encounter. It was myself, a cunning mage with power over the arcane and a full beard the likes of which I could never hope to grow in real life (mine grows so ginger it causes retina). Three Swedes who had not met before on the British server and were very happy to make each others acquaintance (judging by the borderline cyber sex it turns out they were having as we fought a ten foot goblin in a mech suit.) and finally we had a junior member of the BNP. I assume that's what they were, the racial slurs and spelling made it hard to work out, they might have just been getting over excited and not realising what they were typing.

As we went through Gnomeregan (think Arkham Asylum if they had access to giant robots), the Swedes were happily gabbing away in Swedish (I assume, I don't speak Swedish, it could have been a completely different langauge they were using just for kicks as far as I know) while this Nick Griffin wannabe screamed blue bloody murder over the chat box demanding they speak English. Such was this man of letters that his persuasion culminated in a detailed account of how he was going to kill them all...in the game (that most horrifying of fates). Seeming to forget that they could just come back in five minutes and continue their virtual orgy. You see in this poor deluded simpletons mind the idea that someone wasn't speaking English in his presences was tantamount to terrorism (rude terrorism at that, which he pointed out several times).

A radical preacher known for spreading his hate speech across Dillydale.

The Swedes tried to be pleasant about it, apologizing for making him feel left out and saying how they would gladly worship his body if given half the chance (they were very...affectionate bunch of guys to say the least.). Going for a love all the people gambit I tried to broker peace;

"It's only a game.
It's cool they're having a good time
Stop being such a prick".

He screams back (when I say scream, by the way, I mean he typed /shout which turns your font red and then proceeded to write in all caps.) "THEY'VE BEEN TALKING F**K*NG NONESENSE ALL EVENING!"

"But how do you know they've been speaking nonsense if you can't read sweedish?"

For the crime of logic he tried to report me to the moderators (on the grounds that I was being unpatriotic and obviously an evil do'oer). The Swedes however loved me. Telling me in no uncertain terms how much they loved my wit and what they would do to my body if given half a chance. (Very sweet of them but this is a family blog and their promises cannot be repeated here).

Pretty much this.

We complete the dungeon and all say our farewells. While wishing them fair well my new Swedish friends (and probably lovers by some laws judging by the amount of detailed affection they showered me with). The final message I get from the BNP youth is a sweet little memo.

"The Queen will rejoice at the news of your death."

I had no idea her majesties secret service played MMORPG's. James Bond would have been a lot more dull if it ended with him hitting level 90 while ignoring the beautfiul women in his bed.

"My Paladin can heal for 100K with buffs!" Oh Bond, you dream boat!

This is just one story I have after three months of solid play though. One trio of people I had the pleasure of spending some time with virtually (and even then we had to put up with the Neo Nazi Night Elf as well). This use to be the norm years ago when it was a relatively new game, half the fun was joining a huge raid to go stomp on an unsuspecting towns face (my earlier gripes about the world being stagnant being lost in the amount of fun I was having). Now, with the community all on their solitary missions, it might as well be a single player game. No one wants to share the loot so no one will even join up to kick an evil sheep in the nads.

It's hard to find players who don't demand perfection from the other players, I watched as a mob ripped a player apart because he admitted he have never played one specific dungeon in the game before. When this happens in real life it's called abuse. No wonder people still dislike us gamers as a demographic. On a similar note: no wonder we're still referred to as a demographic rather than gaming just being an accepted hobby. This happens a lot of online games, people mistake skill and dedication at games as social superiority. Often proven via the medium of screaming hissy fits.

Behold our king!...Apparently.

I admit hands up that I'm writing this just as World of Warcraft has lost it's appeal for me again. Do I hate the game? Certainly not. It just struck me the horrendous level of elitism and the crushing sense of loneliness that accompanied it compared to when I played it before. It was like being a school all over again; just this time I'm paying £9 a month on top of picking up all the expansions for the pleasure.

I could continue, but this happens where ever people can compare achievements. I'm amazed we don't have league tables for the best arse wipers. Just a shame we have it in our hobbies as well.

Ah well, the world is full of arse holes; if it wasn't then how would people be able to compete in the most most exhilarating league table of all.

FOR THE FOLD!

This is only a quick post. I meant it to be short one as well but I got a bit carried away. Probably not a polished as I would normally do though. It was pretty much to get me writing again. That and I wanted to break the silence on here. I'm going to be taking a part of National Novel Writing Month next month. 50 000 words in 30 days. Easy right? 

... 

Excuse me, I'll be the guy putting on war paint and declaring war on word counts. See you on the other side, also known as December.