Another rough weekend in Planetside, culumnating in the absolute destruction of any vestiges of self-esteem I may have had by the end of last week. It's a simple logical process to follow:

  • I play Planetside.
  • I get 'pwned' repeatedly at Planetside.
  • I lose any self-respect I may have had.
  • I hate myself.
  • I hate Planetside.
  • I punish myself by making myself play Planetside.
  • GOTO 10

It's extremely damaging, and very unhealthy, but I can't seem to break the cycle, and hence I'm still there, putting myself through it, night after night. It's a personal psychosis, but I can't help wondering if it's just me, or whether anyone else uses it as a form of video-game self-mutilation too? I think so.

This Link Again

The statistics there show that 50% of all kills in Planetside are made by the same 10% of the players - about 5 each. Therefore, the other 90% make the remaining kills, which works out as about 1 kill per two players over the same span. Dubious maths, I agree, but the underlying message is clear. A very small number of people are very good at the game and the rest of us are basically there as fodder for that 10%. Clearly the trick in playing Planetside at all, is either:

  • A) Be phenomenally good at First Person Shooters. By this, I don't just mean 'have completed Half Life 2 on Difficult', I mean demonstrate supernatural powers over space and time, 'catching flies with chopsticks' reflexes, and telepathic leanings. (Probably owning a custom-built Pentium 9 Bajillion GHz 'Njnjamaster' 8000 PC, with a dedicated internet conection wide enough to drive a car down wouldn't hurt either.)
  • B) Not Mind Being Repeatedly Humiliated By A) Above. (Usually with accompanying smacktalk.)

My reasons are clear...it's a form of self-harm. But it's the kids I feel sorry for:

Those Poor, Poor Children

And I've seen them in-game. On Saturday, I encountered a force of enemy troops a whole league below the usual wave of unerring combo-perfect 'ubermenschen', that they had to be new. And in principle, this is a good thing. New blood, increased numbers, more than one continent in use on a given night...all good things. I said to myself I'd go easy, that I'd help break them in gently, that I'd try to encourage them to stay.

But then the pecking order kicked in, the beast within. The sheer knowledge that here were enemy troops who were worse at Planetside than I, was all too much. And I wasn't alone in unleashing months of frustration at being the lowest in the pile on these hapless visitors.

I doubt they'll be back any time soon, and if they are... well, then they're just as broken as me...


Monster-Of-The-Day: The Kraken

"...but then Captain Hardbuckle suggested coating the decks with whale fat. He reasoned that if the decking was more slippery, then the monster wouldn't be able to wrap it's tentacles around it, and pull us to our doom. I had reservations at that point, but as the good Captain maintained, I was merely a 'four-eyed landlubbing girly-man', so I held my peace. Sure enough, a hundred leagues south-southwest of Jakata, the Kraken surfaced, and on detecting the, to it, delicious aroma of decomposing whale fat, proceeded to eat the ship and everyone aboard, save I, who had been set adrift in one of the rowing boats on account of 'my constant whining'. To the Captain's credit, the beast did seem to have trouble handling it's meal, although it merely slowed it down and did nothing to abate it's frenzied hunger..." - Minutes of the Maritime Inquest into the loss of the M.V. Hubris off Jakata, December 1885.