Leave Nothing, Not Even Footprints

I ran across a couple of interesting websites while having coffee this morning. It was one of those “google for computer+speaker+lawnmower+Tahiti, end up in someone’s virtual living room” things.

The first is a blog focused on Spouses/Significant Others of EQ Players, and the other is a message board of a recovery program for addicted MMOG players. I skimmed a few of the posts and articles … holy f’ing shit, what a wasteland has been wrought!

At first, I thought permanent links over that way might be a good addition to my page: anti-game sentiment, stories of gamebags doing bad things, etc. Then I realized that these were people that had been destroyed by assclowns. Their former lives are smoldering ruins, for crissakes. Even the assclowns are candidly confessing their sins and transgressions.

Fuck, I can’t make fun of that. These are broken people trying to piece it all back together. My issue is with dumass games and their creators, not with players that have been ground to a pulp in the cogs. I poked around a bit, then backed out as quietly as I had arrived. I left no comment or email.

Beware the ides of March, Caesar. Beware.

‘Til A Corpse Run Do Them Part

Today is the final installment of my week-long series on the human refuse that enjoys online gaming (like me, but not like me … really!). I only had about 39,422 more assclowns I could have chosen for today’s story, but I settled on a real life married couple, that I met in EverQuest a few years back, whose tale of misery and woe even took a worldly gaming hag like me by surprise.

The Mr. and the Mrs. both played paladins. At the time, paladins were the whipping boys of EQ, underpowered and dangerously susceptible to being driven by roleplayers. Paladins have since come into their own, but back then … hot damn, they sucked!

Mr. Paladin was a more ambitious sort, however — he was a max level 50 and the guild leader of a respectable raiding guild (mine, at the time). Not an uber guild, by any means, but capable of farming the top-end zones if nothing (and I do mean NOTHING) went wrong. Mrs. Paladin, not as ambitious, was happily roleplaying her way through level 35+ and occasionally would join our guild for zone raids where she could be of any use. (read: not very often)

One week, we started noticing a regular guest at our raids: a dark elf female shadow knight. She wasn’t remarkable in any way; quiet, behaved herself play-wise and not being a skank-wise. But we did notice that she was invited along often and that Mr. Paladin was friendly with her and enjoyed her company … not overly so, however.

Being the shits we are, we would tease Mr. Paladin in guildchat all the time … saying he had a girlfriend, where was his mistress today?, and other asshattery. Even Mrs. Paladin would, good naturedly, laugh along with us and get her digs in also. Mr. Paladin would take only so much then tell us shitheads to knock it off, and the raids (or corpse runs, as the case may be) would go on.

My fellow shitheads and I left the guild at some point, mostly due to stagnating membership and boredom, and joined another guild that was doing tougher zones in Kunark (which had been released about that time). We remained friendly with the people still in Guild Paladin and expressed regret when Mr. Paladin left the game, apparently for greener pastures … or something.

As we found out later from Mrs. Paladin, we shitheads had hit closer to the mark than even we ourselves realized. Turns out, Mr. Paladin was stepping out to see his dark elf chum, in real life, while Mrs. Paladin was at work, also in real life. Mrs. Paladin came home early one day (o god, don’t ever go home early from work without calling first!) and found the Mr. and the dark elf making the beast with two backs. Ya, without any armor even!

They eventually divorced and Mr. Paladin moved out to be with his dark elf mistress 24/7, while Mrs. Paladin bravely continued managing their EQ guild and slowly leveling up her character in her spare time, of which she had a lot more.

As I said earlier, this whole episode took me by surprise: somewhat because I was still naive then, but also because Mr. and Mrs. not only seemed like normal, decent people, they were normal, decent people. Maybe their marriage was in trouble already and when opportunity knocked, it was inevitable that one of them would open the door. Or, maybe online society magnified and exploited some character flaw in the Mr. to their mutual disaster.

It couldn’t have happened to two nicer people. And that’s a shame.

LOLololOLOLOlol

People that put “lol” or “LOL” at the end of every damn thing they type remind me of canned laughter on bad sitcoms.

An actual lol statement: “i dont know *GUILDNAME*, so that would mean i dont know them lol” See how he inserted lol at the end so that you know there was humor just prior to the lol? This is your clue that he finds himself amusing AND YOU SHOULD TOO! Of course, you and I both know there was probably very little humor there, or else he wouldn’t have to remind us that it was, indeed, there.

An alternative method to point out flat humor: “lol so that was you he was talking too….i was wandering about that.” In this case, the writer has put the lol at the beginning so that the reader is warned ahead of time to be prepared for gut-wrenching laughter.

Here is overkill: “lol i care man and why the hatred i thought it was pretty funny watching *playername* talk to himself lol” Start laughing NOW BEFORE YOU READ THIS and after you have, you will CONTINUE LAUGHING — this sentence is THAT funny.

Someday, when I’m bored, drunk and have a massive head injury, I’ll tell one of the lollers: lol You lol are lol as lol funny lol as lol a lol tumor lol named lol Bleedy lol.