I’ve had very little time for blogging lately, and if there was someone out there expecting some kind of regularity, I apologize. I’ve just been really busy lately coordinating The Irregulars, and now that we’re on the topic I’m pleased to say the first episode should be going up Saturday afternoon (EST). 

But this entry isn’t about that. Just because I’ve been buried in organizational work doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about games. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I’ve been thinking about them a lot. Particularly I’ve been pondering our relationship, as a consumer-base, with the games we so enjoy. Though we could rattle off the accomplishments of video games in the last decade or so as if they were scripture and treat some titles with what some might call undue reverence, we have no real respect for the games we play.

Though it certainly isn’t the extent of it, our disregard for video games and the systems they implement starts as early as achievement points. Now, I’m not going to say that Microsoft’s achievement system is flawless or that it ever has ever been, but right out of the proverbial gate it seems the XBOX Live community (which, like it or not, we all belong to) found the quickest way to bastardize, manipulate and strip the system of what little meaning it held to begin with via glitches and in-game exploits. Even that relatively minor facet of our hobby couldn’t be left unspoiled. Better yet, we then clamor for Microsoft to save the system they created for us. From ourselves. 

Somebody read that and said, “Well he just listened to this week’s Bombcast.” And while you’re right, that’s not where this thought originated. Actually, it started when I was talking to a friend of mine about MMOs and why they haven’t worked in a big way since Everquest and, naturally, World of Warcraft. 

I can’t say for sure what’s causing the MMO genre to stagnate (I’m not sure anyone can point at just one reason), but I can say that players continue to do there what they have done so well to other genres: hundreds of in-game mods exist, things that might have started with the good intention of expediting the playing process, but that ultimately end up stripping the game play of any significance it had, reducing it to an exercise in minimap usage and left-mouse-clicking. 

Surely there are some that have been playing WoW long enough to remember a time without mods, but I think for most that’s a bygone era only talked about now by a handful of crusty old level 80s between reminiscing about when Naxxramas was still fun (and by extension, when WoW was still fun). It’s gotten to the point in these games that they cannot be played out of the box unless you plan on playing largely by yourself (at which point you’d be better off playing an offline RPG). 

Guilds today (particularly the more “prestigious” raiding guilds) often require you to have a certain number of mods installed before even considering you for membership, and if that isn’t enough to force you into destroying the game for yourself, you’ll eventually cave under the pressure provided by the griefers and elitists who sneer at any that haven’t yet conformed to their style of play. 

As if further proof was needed of our inability to preserve the games we play and love, the outrage around Infinity Ward’s decision to remove dedicated servers from the hotly anticipated Modern Warfare 2 was swiftly followed by a myriad of game-breaking exploits employed by the players. Bafflingly, many were quick to blame developer Infinity Ward, claiming they should have filled the cracks, that the game should have been more airtight, that its networks should have somehow been hermetically sealed from all outside interference. 

A reasonable comparison would be a spoiled child receiving a gift that, while perhaps not everything they asked for, was still enjoyable and to be appreciated; instead, the child proceeds to snap the toy into several different pieces and then demand that the now-indifferent parent pick them up and reassemble them. And let’s not forget the inevitable temper tantrum once the parent refuses, leaving the child with only the broken pieces to play with. 

Someone might have read that last paragraph and said (with an appropriate sense of entitlement), “but game developers aren’t our parents! I paid good money for that game! I should be able to do what I want with it!” and this baffles me, because by that logic if you bought a fully-functional brand new car, your first step would be to drive it off a cliff because you “have a right to,” and any delicious hamburgers purchased had better have pickles on it or it'll be going in the nearest puddle. Maybe it’s time for us, as a consumer-base, to grow up.