Wednesday 3 October 2012

In hub we trust

Dear Blizzard Entertainment,

I'm on to you. You're really serving some sort of vowelless Lovecraftian elder god aren't you? Which one is it? Kth'Kchtjk, devourer of the willing? I bet it is.

You used to be cool.  Once upon a time you would allow the undernourished to gather together in a sort of communal appreciation of your products.  There we were huddled around the hub for digital warmth and reduced lag.  Hours and occasionally days would disappear as we fought back the Alliance or the Federation, or battled shoulder to shoulder through the conveniently layered depths of hell.  Did you know that you can play Diablo with one hand, leaving you free to eat pizza with the other?  Was that deliberate?  Time would evaporate leaving only the smell of takeout and the sweat of panic.  Only to emerge upon noticing the glistening sunlight reflected in the grease slicked forehead of the player sitting opposite us.

Apparently you would rather we did all of this from our own little suburban isolation tanks.  Kept far away from each other in case we accidentally bust out some d20 and pen and paper that shit, or even play us some Scattergories.  Imagine all those minutes of real human interaction that might happen, weakening your overlord until his tentacled maw can no longer reach across the abyss of space and feed on those of us who play female characters but are actually not female at all.  Not at all.

Surely there is someone still working for you who can figure out how to have LAN support while you big brother our fun with your persistant internet connections.

Yours sincerely,

Jacob "Katpanic" Henwood

I bet your mum is at someone else's house on a reasonably priced rig for some tea and Torchlight II right now.

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