In all the talk of graphical downgrades no one seems much preoccupied with 'why?'. Why build something and then proceed to tear it down, piece by piece, in the hope that ever more diminished expectations about the final product won't be severe enough to...
I apologize for the late
mailbag this week, but lazy mailbag editor "Shawn"
(if that is his real name) claims to have been sick for several days.
I notice that this "sickness" happens to be at the same time
as the new Counterstrike update. Highly suspicious at best.
So it falls upon me, the
mysterious Big Kahuna of GR, to bring you your weekly dose of mailbag
hijinks. Lucky you. This week I thought I'd give you a glimpse into
the steamy behind-the-scenes, soap-opera stories that are so commonplace
A couple weeks ago I wrote
a rant demanding respect
and social justice for games and gamers alike. And judging from the
virtual piles of mail I received, I managed to strike a chord with many
of you. We shall overcome! I also mentioned that I enjoy chatting up
This disclosure, however,
sparked off a secret correspondence between my wife (the beautiful
but deadly Miranda) and
the editor in chief of GR, Ben
Silverman! Shocking plot twist!
Husbands and wives and cute girls and video games.
From: miranda march
To the Editor:
Recently, you published a rant ('Quit Yer Bitching and
Listen to Ours', front page, March 1), in which you
editorialized that Duke's statement "If I tell a cute
girl that I played video games last night, she will
look at me funny and probably find another guy to talk
to" was not applicable in the (probable) case that
said 'cute girl' is his wife.
I am writing to inform you that there have been many
occasions upon which Duke has said exactly that to his
wife, and on EVERY such occasion she has immediately
gone and found another (cuter) guy to talk to.
Wives and girlfriends do not like video games.
We do not like it when their men respond to a query
about their day with incomprehensible gibberish about
the elf wizard on level five.
We do not like the fact that men will claim that while
there is no money for, say, a kitchen table, they will
maintain that upgrading the video card and memory
capacity of the PC should be prioritized above, say,
food (unless that 'food' is the ubiquitous 12 cases of
Mountain Dew. That quandry is enough to propel our
men into a state of existential crisis).
They do not like it that men somehow think that 'sorry
i'm late honey, i had just had to kill the alien that
attacked my ship on the planet Zorba' is a legitimate
exscuse for being an hour and a half late.
They do not like the fact that men would prefer to
interact with a character named 'masterslayer' in the
virtual world of Ultima Online than they would have an
actual discussion in the real world about whether a
certain lipstick matches a particular toe nail polish.
We do not like the fact that men who cannot remember
which drawer we keep the forks in can keep a library
of video game manuals organized by the dewi decimal
Women do not like the fact that men who are too cheap
to put in another phone line so that we can make phone
calls while they are playing on-line games (usually
calls to complain to our mother's about their video
game playing)will happily shell out $60 for the new
We do not like the fact that men who look puzzled when
we are upset that they put a $200 cashmere sweater
into the washing machine (yes, that ruins it), expect
us to apologize for days if we turn off the computer
or television without locating the 'save game'
We do not like it that we can call 'honey? honey?'
seventeen times and then have the man say 'oh, i
didn't hear you; i was playing a game'.
Most of all, we don't like hearing about how 'gamers
can't no respect' ad infinitum.
(The writer is married to an avowed video game nerd)
I did mention that my scheme
was evil, right? So I must expose to the world your filthy lies.
I must tell everyone about the countless hours you've spent playing
Solitaire, Tetris, Freecell, Super
Puzzle Fighter 2 Turbo, and The
Ben's Immoral Response.
Dear Mystery Writer,
Point well taken, though the editor's note in
question was posed more as a reminder to the author
than a personal statement. "Unless she's your wife,
right Duke?" was meant to raise the point that while
the author professed to tell cute girls that he
played video games, the editor was fully aware that
said author was bound by law to another woman, and
that he should have nary a care for the thoughts of
women outside of his healthy, commited relationship.
The readers of the rant deserve the truth, and as an editor I felt compelled to dispel the myth that Duke
often spoke to cute girls...aside from his charming,
I know a great therapist in upstate NY who can
probably help. He's usually playing Counterstrike
under the moniker "LiMpBiZkIt100."
Well, I guess thats not actually
immoral. However, since you impune my ability to talk to cute girls,
I must inform you that you are actually adopted! Also, your girlfriend
is having a lesbian affair with an alien. And in a surprise twist,
you will soon be fired from your cushy game job.
What will happen next? Will
Brian stop cheating on
his girlfriend? Who is the mysterious "General Zang?" Will
the real father of the baby step forward? Tune in next week...