Kings and All Their Favourites
What is it like to abandon a much loved and well-practiced hobby or following, and what brings oneself to leave it in the first place?
There is much glory attached to the ailing craftsperson whose faculties are departed to such an extent that continuation is impossible; rusty, swollen fingers which cannot pluck a stringed instrument or a painter whose favourite brush has split from dousing too many times in a jar of thinners and water. Retired men and women of a reputable social service gain their pension and a permanent crest of honour tatooted to their name. Veterans of war plagued by the imagery of the macarbe are immortalised in books of history which carried forever anon. These craftspeople are the kings and our noble followings are the favourites.
All the while we change in a myraid of mysterious ways and adapt to the weather of a new plateau; led alone a vast array of microcosmic changes in our inner psyche, the outer world demands of us that we move house, make new friends, change job and possibly even seek out adventure in a new country. Consequently at these points in time it is not uncommon that we tend to bury the bones of old passions in search of greater novelty in these avenues.
As a result, it’s become something of a pastime to lament of ‘what was’ and ‘what could have been’; sliding fingers over dusty manuscripts in a forgotten bookcase, restringing the guitar with the broken neck, the poem that warmed a room of people in a passionate rapture of hearts and minds. At the time we practised these passions, we were hardly starved of interest and impetus, but somehow time made a fatal escape from our grasp and we choose to stop in the midst of our path. After all, there are ‘other’ hobbies which demand half the amount of time and effort and give a more rapid dose of gratification. To this I refer to computer games and their mind-boggling and encapsulating grasp over all that was once considered sacred.
For several years in the cracks and shadows of more demanding and paced hobbies I’ve placed computer games as my escape plan. It didn’t matter much where I got with them because it was all in good fun. Truth be told, half the fun was watching the parody of the character and not investing a great seriousness in the consequences of your developed cyber persona. Somewhere along the lines of the promises and lavished rewards given by producers of games, the line between game and reality are blurred and it suddenly becomes a personal statement about one’s abilities, accomplishments and overall self-efficacy.
Worse yet, the overdeveloped bartering system in online games has mutated into a kind of skewed capitalist ideal that rewards monentary and material supremacy that is constantly added to and formed by game producers at the hungry desire of its competetors.
Finally, given the overwhelming sensation of guilt and loss, I’ve chosen to hang up the keyboard, mouse and copious amounts of time and tea dedicated to World of Warcraft to pursuit those old and ageing hobbies that have waited patiently for my return. It seems somehow that the ‘older’ hobbies yielded more of personal gratification, evolved with time and experience and sat ever closer to my heart than a game ever did.
After all, in my time with computer games, the moment you hit the Exit button the items you worked so hard to achieve are a non-reality and are already succeeded by a superior item that is given as a reward of ‘just that little extra’ input.
I shouldn’t get overly sentimental about it or have even developed such expectations in the first place, but my departure from the Massively Multiplayer Online game was unceremonious and uncaring. Most of those on my Friends list had already forgotten who I was (”Who is this again? Sorry!”) since our last group quest barely a week ago, guild mates never returned my mail message of farewell and even the account deactivation page couldn’t hold back its laundering money racket against the user’s whims: “…Your account will be here when you come back.”
Games don’t deserve an overly bad rap for what they innocently intend to be, but from time to time we (and certaintly I) need a firm reminder about our true talents and a bolster of courage to foster our abilities anew. It is utterly amazing what we can accomplish with willpower alone when combined with the raw materials and the passions of our dreams.
This post was inspired by the legendary poet, John Donne’s The Anniversary.
… Here upon earth we’re kings, and none but we
Can be such kings, nor of such subjects be.
Who is so safe as we? where none can do
Treason to us, except one of us two…
Hmm.. very true.
I must say that I agree with you; however, being an avid player of World of Warcraft myself, must admit that the senselessness obtained from playing the game for any length of time is almost akin to that of reading a particularly engrossing book, and one of the highlights of my day. ^^. Whatever that says =P.
But when the elitism on gaming skills that one posesses becomes too much, a quick retreat from the gaming world IS required for a little while.
And also, in such a time consuming game, it can only be truly devoted to and enjoyed if one has this required time on their hands… perfect for a school student, say.
So although WoW is the perfect exploiter of modern capitalism, contains multiple hard headed fifteen year olds, and chews up time and money like nothing else, the escape it provides is the main attraction for most, if not all, of its subscribers. And yes, I shamelessly accept this, and continue to play.
=P
Hi Madelaine,
Senselessness is definitely the right word to use to describe it; although at times, feelings of frustration and a welling sensation of obligation also were an accompaniment when I was playing for so much time.
Thankfully, I never succumbed and decided to fork over an additional $20 to get 250 Gold in the game. Think about it - real money and cyber money would entangle themselves in parallels of … let’s not go there.
Let’s just say that school holidays and WoW are a match made in heaven and leave it at that. :)
Well, yes, cyber money does become infuriating when one doesn’t have enough to buy the desired item… almost worth spending the real money for. There is an increasing temptation for the player to raise their - dare I say it - self worth, by becoming a more ‘epic’ player. Because one wouldn’t want to run the risk of being an epically phailing nublet.
And as for obligation… >.<. Forget personal obligation to your character or your quests. Being a high ranking officer in my guild, I am asked for help majority of the time by newbies, and failing to fulfill these unwanted expectations can evolve into arguments verging on verbal abuse.
But over all of this, it still provides a welcome diversion to .. well.. life really, and is definitely perfect for school holidays.
I concur =D.