First there was a Steam update. When is there not one? Then I had to download the game. This was expected, and progressed very smoothly. In only a few short minutes I was joining my first game. I selected my character and waited for the person who started the game in the first place to… well, start the game.
And waited.
And waited.
Someone named “Brian Peppers” joined, and immediately began screeching into his microphone in a pubescent warble:
“WHAT UP, MY NIGGERS!?”
“WHAT UP, MY NIGGERS!?”
“HEY, NIGGERS!”
“YOU BUNCH OF POOR NIGGERS!”
Fuck that. I joined a new game. I was randomly assigned Coach and after a short wait the game began. Immediately, one of the other players started shooting me. This player’s name was “NEGRO.”
The third time was a charm, however: after a vote to kick NEGRO, I and my competent and helpful teammates were able to play the demo to completion. Still, it was a brutal reminder of two things:
1) I fucking hate online games.
2) I fucking hate people.
You might think I’m generalizing too hastily. What about that third game that went well? Should I let the previous two incidents color my judgment? Well, consider that I played only three fucking games today. In the first, a teenager bleated tired racial epithets. In the second, a player named NEGRO teamkilled me. I consider this a pretty representative sample of the kind of sub-moron that gravitates towards online games.
If I had my way I would have them all rounded up and gassed. I shit you not. I don’t care if they’re otherwise normal kids just having a goof in the anonymous world of TEH INTARNET. They are, on some deep, intrinsic level, irredeemable scumbags who deserve—at the very least—chemical castration.
There’s a lot I could say about the semi-anonymous online environment and basic human nature, but I’m not going to. It’s not worth it. We just need a fucking pogrom.
I’m off to play Dragon Age.
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