Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Patron Saint

Helicopters.

I’ve always like them, and I’ve always had a knack for the Sims of them. I can hearken back, something I rarely get to do, to a time in my childhood when I played Sim copter. It was a stranger and massively different time, a time before I had discovered angst. I’m not sure if this ability would transfer over to an actual helicopter, but I can say confidently that I’m more then proficient in the use of a video game one.

This is especially true in battlefield 2. I’ve heard time and time again that it’s supposed to be impossible to fly them, but for me it just flows. When I’m in the proverbial groove my flying is as unto poetry written in fire and speed across the sky.

Okay I’m getting a little bit of gamer arrogance there, but the point is that I’m good.

The other point is that I need to find someone who knows how to be a freaking damn gunner.

I could get into a full rant here, but I’m going to stop and mull on a different semi-related point.

I’ve been in the world of gaming for quite some time now, and I’ve noticed that it’s fully of arrogance, bravado, and people shouting over little unnecessary inconviences. It’s also full of people who don’t recognize that the problem isn’t their teammates, or their gear, it’s them. I’ve also noticed that the last part of this rule immediately evaporates when I’m complaining about my teammates or gear. Amazing isn’t it?

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