Fuck it. Let’s have some fun!
Feb 24, 2008 Games
Why is it that when we as humans are doing something recreational, such as games or role playing, we allow someone else to come along and shit all over what we are doing until it is not fun anymore?
Yes, I’m including myself in this philosophical question.
You’re having a blast, enjoying yourself–maybe you’re playing World of Warcraft, Guild wars, maybe you’re role playing in an AOL chat room, maybe you’re gaming with a bunch of buds around the dining room table. You could be LARPING your troll with a bunch of your favorite geeks in the woods some where or even posting to your favorite live journal community–then it happens. Some asshole who isn’t a newb, just an asshole, comes along and shits the place up.
Either that guy at your D&D session intentionally made snide remarks or messed up your living room, or that crazy stalker bitch found your AOL SN some how and now you’ve got to put her back on ignore; or some idiot keeps spamming /duel over and over and do not get your constant no’s and setting to auto-reject duels as a clue-by-four.
And your spirits plummet. You’re cranky, bitchy and all around disheartened with your favorite hobby to the point that you’re asking yourself: Why the fuck should I continue playing? I can’t believe this shit!
That’s when we’ve let them under our skin. The idiots who are out to fuck with whatever fun we’re having. The people who secretly adore making sure that whomever isn’t down and wallowing in their bitter mud soon will be. We’ve allowed some penis smegma to ruin the game, whatever it may be, for us.
Why?
Why can’t we just click the ignore, the report, contact the admin, the GM, block, sign online invisible, boot the problem player, and stop inviting the snide cleric that keeps leaving greasy Doritos stains on our couch?
I can almost hear the round of But Mel, it’s just not that simple!
And I say to you and to myself: Outside of situations where legal actions need to take place? Bullshit. That’s what I say!
Why can’t it be that simple? The mantra I have been constantly repeating to myself and attempting to uphold since I ‘discovered’ it for myself is this: The only person who can ruin my fun is myself. Straight forward and simple.
Sure, greasy dorito finger’s did do something he wasn’t supposed to do. Sure, it’s annoying when creepy people do creepy things and yeah–I hate idiots. But am I really going to give them this sort of power over my life, my hobbies, my fun as to take it from me? Am I willing to give up something I love just for some assholes who can’t stand it when someone else is having a ball?
No. Outside of the alarming, super illegal-came-to-my-house-and-showed-up-with-sacrificed-goats, or found-my-phone-number-online and gotta-call-the-police sort of freaks, there isn’t a single, solitary need to allow these ass munches the satisfaction of poopcicling all over our snowy parade.
I’m tired of reading about the general populace of people who are blaming everyone but themselves for not having fun anymore. (Including myself!) I’m tired of having myself get hung up over whether or not I’m ‘good enough,’ for a hobby! or whether or not so-and-so is talking smack. And I’m especially tired of holding myself back because of a small group of shit-heads peeing near the parade route of fun-time.
So, I urge you to come with me, nay, frolic in this new found, “fuck it. I am not going to let someone ruin a hobby/game/role play/story line/piece of art/story/sweater I made, that I paid for/created/wrote/painted/knitted for fun. It’s up to ME to make whatever I do as enjoyable as possible. Starting today, I’m gonna do it!”
Cookies to the first minions–I mean, people who do. Let’s have some fun!
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