Not Now, I'm Busy

I was out the other night with people that I loosely call ‘friends’. I didn’t immediately want to kill them and they were far, far too poor for me to pillage. I was happily munching on my entree (Polar Bear ribs in meat sauce {the juice squeezed from a variety of other meats}) and the ‘friend’ sitting nearest to me asked me about a movie that I saw, Cowboys and Aliens.

After the red haze faded and the waiter swept up what was left of my meal off the wall and broke down the table into smaller bits so as to make it easier to carry outside, my friend said that he felt sorry for me.

‘Why would he feel sorry for you, Viking Gamer? You have rippling muscles and the sex appeal of Adonis dipped in George Clooney!’ I can hear you say.

He felt sorry for me because my ‘over-analysing means I can’t enjoy anything’. To which I replied, ‘I feel sorry for you and your broken arm’. He looked at me quizzically and said ‘but I don’t have a broken arm’. As I am not a liar I was honour-bound at this point to snap his elbow in three.

This isn’t the first time I’ve had someone say this to me. If I don’t enjoy a book or a tv series or an article or a game (and I’m the fucking Viking Gamer, I’m supposed to critique games) for some reason I am the sole target for peoples pity.

First and foremost, fuck you, I don’t need your pity. In fact, if I hadn’t had my ability to empathise removed through Viking cultural conditioning (you kick an orphaned seal in the face over and over again while its kitten friend tries in vain to stop you while a violin is playing in the background – repeat for a week) I would pity you.

Why? Because you’re cattle. Not sheep, but cattle, because sheep can be moved easily whereas the sheer size of your stupidity makes you a MASSIVE WASTE OF SPACE.

Here is a cow.

Please eat me, I am too dumb to live

Look at its face. It’s dumb. It has no idea where it is, what it’s doing, and simply eats all day because it’s too lazy to actually give something back to society besides delicious, juicy steak.

Cattle, like you morons who keep ‘pitying me’, eat grass all day. This is the entirety of their life’s experience. And just like you chumps, it takes it all in and the only thing it produces in return is shit. It will eat rocks, bugs and dirt and will never know the difference between them because they are giant, lumbering stupid things.

When I experience anything, I reflect, I deduce, I find out what I do and don’t like and yes, I often find things wanting. Just because I don’t shovel everything in like a vacuum with a vague sense of personality attached to it DOESN’T MEAN I CAN’T ENJOY THINGS.

When I do like something, I have reasons for doing so. My axe, the Gentle Beauty, has a blade that hints red in the sunlight, and its weight makes it feel almost alive. The cow-hide grip (the other useful thing to come from cattle) is responsive, in its own way – flexible yet stable. Its length is perfect, it gives the feeling of an extension to my naturally weapon like physique rather than an external tool used for reducing the number of peasants in the general vicinity.

When I ask you what you like about a movie, you say ‘it was a good movie’. When I ask why it was a good movie you say ‘I enjoyed it’, which makes me think you’re borderline retarded.

When it comes to games it’s even worse. Movies and books aren’t interactive, so I can understand the idea that you’re really ‘letting them happen to you’, just like the first time you had sex. But a game means you’re in control. If you were in a car and the brakes didn’t work you would say something like ‘fuck me I don’t like this car, the brakes don’t work’. Yet for some reason you still cannot identify why you would like the car. I would even accept ‘because it moves forward’ because at least that’s a fucking reasons. ‘I like shooters because of the guns’. A valid statement and a sure-fire way for me to not bash my head into the ice trying to get my IQ to drop to yours.

Yuhuh I likes them games with the video and the player!

I should put a spear through these people and say ‘what do you think about this?’. My prediction is that they would say ‘It’s not good’ and when I say ‘Why?’ they would say ‘because I don’t like it’ instead of ‘because it’s causing me death’.

For those of you out there like me (the honoured few) just remember that you are part of the normal minority. What separates the man and beast is his ability to play a game and say ‘My god, Vanille from FFXIII sounds like she’s going to cum at any moment! Is Squenix run by monkeys!?’.

Stay tuned, because soon I will have to tackle gaming’s most hated nemesis…

The fanboy.

Til next time, the gamer with horns on his hat.