Game Idiots On Display

 

You know what really gets my goat? I mean, besides what passes for so-called politics these days? Well, lots of things. I'm cranky! For instance, I never really realized that I had a "goat" until I started using that strange term, "You know what really gets my goat?"

But there I go, getting digression all over the place. No, I want to talk about electronic games that you download to your phones. There's plenty wrong with them. They're created solely to dupe poor suckers like myself into shoving cash at the faceless creators so you can reach the next, nearly unattainable level. But that's all a given. And the endless commercials and ads you're forced to suffer through is also to be expected. (I once asked my wife how many times she's had to watch the king die in the repetitive ads for "Royal Match." She said, "so, so, soooooo many.") 

And these damn games are addictive. I have to spend an hour a day just on daily maintenance! I fully expect to see an influx of gaming addiction meetings sweeping the world.

But what really, really gets my goat (besides that strange saying) is whenever the ads show someone demonstrating a game or puzzle, they've found the dumbest people in the world to do so. I mean, honestly...how hard is it to figure out how to put the pieces of the cat together? The animated hand gets everything so incredibly wrong that I just want to jump through the phone and strangle the animated person behind the animated hand.

And of course the ads are created this way purposefully to goad the poor unwitting fool (like me!) into trying the damn game just so you can show the animated idiot how it's done. Some ads even nearly taunt you by claiming "only people with a genius I.Q. can solve this cat puzzle!" So of course, we want to be designated as geniuses (just ask a certain orange, self-proclaimed "very stable genius"). 

But time and time again, I'm forced to watch the blockhead try and put a square chunk of the puzzle into the cat's rounded behind or tail outline.

It's enough to make me permanently give up my goat.

And while I'm on the topic of misleading gaming ads, has this scenario ever happened to you? You watch an ad for a game. It looks fun and different with amazing animation, so you figure "hey, why not give it a shot?" Only to find out that the fun tableau visualized in the ad has nothing to do with the game; it's merely the zillionth version of "Bejeweled."

Grrrrr! Give me back my damn goat already!

There's nothing misleading about my horror thriller, Dread and Breakfast. You pretty much get what is expected in this chiller set in a not very hospitable Bed & Breakfast during a terrible Winter storm. Except you'll get lots and lots of unexpected twists and surprises and scares as a bonus! Would I lie to you?

Guilt-ridden Games

The past thirteen months have fostered a lot of addiction. Of course I'm talking about the vilest form of addiction around, the most insidious and life-altering type of addiction that's helping to destroy the world: phone games.

Sure, I've played them before. But not to the point where I'm all in now. And I'm very, very mad at myself for falling into the vast black hole of games. In fact I used to scoff at people who couldn't put their phones down in public, banging their finger away while trying to blast an asteroid or whatever.

Now, I'm one of them. 

My name is Stuart. ("Hi, Stuart.") And I'm a...a...*gasp, choke*...gameaholic.

There. I said it. And I know I'm not alone. For crying out loud, gaming has become one of my first go-to morning rituals. I can't start my day properly without "gaming maintenance."

See, these game-creators and destroyers of souls are truly heinous people who know exactly what they're doing. My game of choice (before I turn to my other games) is "Angry Birds 2." When I first got into it, it seemed perfectly harmless, just kind of passive, mindless entertainment I could amuse myself with during long car rides. But the gaming maintenance alone is intense. Every day you're expected to play the daily challenge along with other tasks. Not to mention gain (through side games) 5 apples a day to keep your lil' cute "hatchling" fed. What happens if you don't feed your hatchling?

To my great shame, sadness and dismay, I found out. Time had run out and "Boney (they encourage you to name your hatchlings, thus establishing a close loving connection. You devious bastards!)" shed giant, sad cartoon tears, slung a bag over his shoulder, and slumped off my phone screen to never be seen again.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooo... (Screaming while standing out in the pouring rain with my fists clenched into the air).

So, so sad. And manipulative. And these gaming gurus are thriving during our pandemic, grifting rubes (such as myself) into playing along, ladling on the guilt like chow at the soup kitchen. (I honestly had no choice--absolutely none, whatsoever--to raise a new hatchling and name him Boney again, in hopes I could forget the nightmare of seeing my initial hatchling heartbroken and run away to die of starvation).

The manipulation doesn't stop within the game itself either. The ads that you're forced to sit through are evil as well. They're always trying to sucker we poor fools into playing games "to win real money!" (I gotta admit, my defenses were at a pandemic low at one point and I almost succumbed to this poisonous apple). 

Then there are the ads for all of these cool animated games with animated tasks like saving a King from drowning. Now I've been conned into a couple of these before. And they're NOTHING like what was advertised. Usually, it's just some poorly animated dumb guy building a garden at a snail's pace.

Tricky, these people are. Shameless, too, for preying on a shut-in world.

You know, it used to be my annoyance started and stopped when "friends" kept inviting me to play Candy Crush on Facebook. Now I've succumbed to the tempting, albeit hollow, promises of phone games.

So, my fellow humans, I say we toss off the shackles of our gaming-induced slavery and revolt! Throw down your phones now and go take a walk!

I plan on doing that just as soon as I complete my Angry Birds daily tasks. Maybe... Hang on... Just another hour...

Speaking of shameless manipulation, I actually enjoy being manipulated by a good book. Now, I'm not saying that my horror thriller, Dread and Breakfast is good, mind you. That's your call. But I did set out to manipulate the reader with many terror-filled twists and turns inside the Dandy Drop Inn. Come on over, check in, and find out if I succeeded (I'll wait for you to finish your current game).