A little over two years ago, I “[took my] first step into a larger world” [note to people who haven’t memorized Star Wars: This is a quote from Obi Wan Kenobi, a level 10 Jedi who could blow a hole through your pantalones with a flick of his eyebrows].
Star Wars Galaxies, like Everquest, is one of those massively-multiplayer-online-roleplaying-massively-roleplaying-online-multiplayer-massively games (MMORMROMMG’s).
When it first appeared, the game was great in every respect except for a few key areas:
– It wasn’t fun
– The graphics blew
– The game wasn’t finished
– It sucked
I wasn’t impressed. If I had been a beta tester and had been asked what I would change about the game to make it better, I would have said, “Everything.”
Actually, in retrospect, anybody who played the game when it was first released was a beta tester. We didn’t know it, but we were. We were beta testers of the game in the same way puppy dogs tied down to cold, steel tables “beta test” shaving cream for large consumer products companies by having it stuffed in their ears and rubbed on their bald spots. That is, we didn’t really want to be beta testers, and probably would have chosen other, more pleasant activities to engage in had we known. Like storming the beaches of Normandy on D-Day. Or having the blood sucked out of our bodies by vampire octopi. Or having to spend Eternity in a closet listening to the Latin remix of Cher’s “Life After Love.”
I tolerated the game for about two weeks, and in that time, I learned a lot about Star Wars Galaxies. The gist of the game is not interaction with other dorks in a vast online universe, but rather spending six to seven hours at a time shooting mutant bunny rabbits on “alien” worlds.
Did I say “bunny rabbits?” I meant “durmas.” They’re called “durmas.” The only reason I accidentally referred to these things as “bunny rabbits” is that they look exactly, precisely, and in every way like bunny rabbits.
Kind of like the butterflies.
Did I say “butterflies?” I meant “colorful space bugs that totally aren’t butterflies because butterflies live on Earth, and these planets aren’t Earth, and those butterflies most definitely are not butterflies.”
Some of the bizarre aliens you’ll encounter and mangle in the worlds of Star Wars Galaxies
The point of all the shooting is to collect enough “Experience Points” to advance further in the game, hopefully to eventually become a “Master Artisan” which gives you the ability to “craft” things like bantha fertilization tools and automated desert lizard milking machines for your “farm.”
To make it to a level like “Master Artisan” is kind of like joining the “church” of Scientology. In the end, you wind up living part of your life in a fantasy world which is dominated by pointless tasks, all while your real life crumbles around you. Eventually, you quit your job, leave your family, and mortgage the house so you can spend one more month online because you’re so close to becoming a “Jedi Speeder Mechanic.” You know you can do it, and that you only have to shoot and kill 60,000 more bunny rabbits durmas to advance.
It was a tough choice, but I gave up Star Wars Galaxies in favor of doing “real” work for “real” money. Sure, I’d never get the chance to artificially inseminate a dewback lizard or solicit a Jawa prostitute, but those sorts of things aren’t as exciting when you have bill collectors pounding on your door, shouting something about the $37,517.76 you owe for your (incomplete) college education.
Recently, though, I was in a dork shop checking to see if there were any new games out for the Sony PSP (I bought one just before going to London – a review is forthcoming). Although I was well aware that the PSP game release schedule had been planned to drive consumers into a panicked frenzy around the holidays, I decided to check anyway. As I expected, there was nothing new. Ho-hum.
But, there I was, in a dork shop with the intention of spending some moolah. While the smart thing would have been to have left and donated my money to the National Rifle Association, a charity I hold very near and close to my heart, I decided instead to waste it on something in the shop.
What caught my eye was a copy of “Star Wars Galaxies; The Total Experience.” Oddly, there weren’t any other versions around. I half expected to find “Star Wars Galaxies: The Partial Experience,” “Star Wars Galaxies: Just the Installer,” and “Star Wars Galaxies: Some Random Odds and Ends,” but alas, there was only the one title.
The nerd in me was intrigued by the thought that the game had finally made it out of beta and was now being offered with the promise of a “total experience.” Most of my memories of SWG, as it will hereafter be known, are of one hour patch downloading sessions which modified the attributes of the space bunnies so that they were more violent and harder to kill (this is known as “balancing” in the world of MMORMROMMG’s – it’s meant to prevent players from gaining unfair advantages over others, or from exploiting poorly designed aspects of the system (in this case, the totality of the game itself) to their gain).
I picked up a copy and brought it to the counter. Heck. My personal life was destroyed, my health was in question, and I really had nothing to lose by wasting a few more hours and dollars on one of the most wretched applications of the Star Wars franchise ever.
I handed the box over to the sales dork and asked him if the game still sucked dog balls. He gave me that funny look that people sometimes do, and which is so hard to interpret. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to say “Yes” or “Did you really just use the phrase ‘dog balls’ with me?” I took it as the former, with a little of the latter thrown in, and decided to buy it. The idea that the game still sucked like Jenna Jameson was compelling. You ask yourself: “Could it really still be that bad?”
A Tale…
“SWG: The Total Experience” is a large game. I opened the box to find 47 DVDs, and it took me three days to install it. At one point, roughly four minutes in, it looked like I was going to run out of hard drive space, but a clever hack involving GMail and the U.S. Department of Defense missile targeting computers solved that problem. The taxpayers have supplied me with a large, but slow, NAS solution.
After installing the game, I thought it would Just Work. I should have known better from my earlier experiences with the system, but was still surprised that “SWG: The Total Experience” is only mostly total. After it’s been installed, you still need to download about nine gigs of patches, just like in the good old days.
Another half hour later, and I was finally online. I walked around for a few minutes, watched some people misspell messages at each other, went out and shot a few “aliens,” came back in to town, and had to admit to myself that I was already bored.
That’s when everything changed.
Some guy in a robe walked up to me and said, “do u wnt a house!?”
I thought that was a strange offer to make to someone who’s just arrived and has shown no particular interest in the possibilities of in-game home ownership. I looked around to make sure I wasn’t on Candid Camera or something. Everything looked fine. I typed in my response: “OK.”
Then he stared at me for about five minutes while occasionally looking around. Maybe he thought he was on Candid Camera, too.
Finally, he responded, “u folllow me.”
I answered (and I should really turn this into a macro), “OK.”
I ran to the edge of town with him and he disappeared for a second, but then showed up with a land speeder. This was a big change to the game. In the old days, you had to walk for hours just to find one bunny rabbit to kill, and it was uphill both ways in the snow, damn it. We didn’t have these fancy speeder things.
He invited me in. I said, “OK.”
We then spent the next five minutes driving out to the middle of the desert. I started to suspect that something weird was going on – he was too eager to help. It seemed entirely possible that this guy was Michael Jackson, and that he was taking me to the online equivalent of the Neverland Ranch, but I didn’t have anything better to do, so I went along with it.
After passing by a lot of beautiful scenery (brown rocks of varying height), we stopped in a little player built city. Now, I have to admit – it is kind of cool that players can build and run their own cities. The dork in me was prepared to attempt to enjoy this, but the cynic, and also the asshole, were both telling me that this was an opportunity for mischief. I was going to listen to the dork, but then the cynic and the asshole beat him up, stole his lunch money, and shoved him in a locker.
My new friend got out of his speeder and asked me if I would “swer aleegince 2 teh king.”
WTF? I thought this guy was going to give me a house. He hadn’t said anything earlier about swering aleegince to any bloody king. Still, I thought it’d be worth getting a house, so I was like all, “OK.”
I followed Michael Jackson to the town center where I met the king to whom I was to swer aleegince. The king invited me in to his meeting room and asked me if I would be loyal to his cause.
“OK.”
And that was it. About a minute later, they made me a member of their “guild,” gave me 5,000 bucks, and showed me the way to my new house. Sweet. I had been online for all of an hour, and I already had an extended network of people upon whom I could depend in times of trouble, a bunch of money, and a place to live. This was a hell of a lot better than the SWG of old. Consider my aleegince 2 teh king swered.
My new pals wanted me to go kill some other people with them, but I told them to go on without me. I wanted to tidy up at my new house, take a look around, arrange my no furniture (the house was completely empty), and just generally see what the deal was.
It turns out that having a house is about as exciting as shooting space-rabbits through the head. That is, it’s fun for the first twelve seconds, but then gets boring really fast.
The house had a little control panel. I fiddled with it. Through the panel, I could control who was allowed in the house, how much of my stuff I wanted to store there, and… hey… what’s this? An option called “Destroy House.”
That seemed like a weird option. If I were building a house, I don’t think I’d give it a self destruct button. Granted, I’ve made my money in the software field and am no expert on such things, but it seems strange. Upon further inspection of the feature, I learned that I could “destroy” the house, but that the house would actually become part of my inventory, which meant I could sell it.
“Hot damn,” I thought.
Within ten minutes, I had left the guild, packed up the house, and taken off with my 5,000 space dollars. Five minutes later, I was back in the city, a few thousand dollars richer, and with a house to sell, ready to make a name for myself in the world.
Then the emails started to arrive.
From: Your space friend
Subject: ware r u?
hi ware did u go? we r kileeing space rabits com on!!?LOL!?!!
Crap. They got the message that I had left their guild. It wouldn’t be long before they’d figure out I stole one of their houses, too.
I replied.
Dear Friend,
First off, I would like to extend my thanks for all that you have done for me, which is more than you know. When I came into this world, I was but a wanderer without a home or a purpose. Since joining your guild, I have come to rely upon your sage advice and counsel, the kinship you offer, and the security of knowing that our king is watching over us at all times, with the interest of serving and protecting his people no doubt weighing very heavily on his already greatly burdened heart.
However, I feel that the time has come for me to strike out on my own. I have your protection, but I do not yet have respect for myself as a contributing member of your guild or city. I was a cancerous growth on what was an otherwise healthy ecosystem, a body rich in all the various and powerful wonders that this world has to offer. You offered me a place, and I took it, but without having earned it, and it has been eating away at my very soul for every one of these past seven minutes that I’ve known you.
But, fear not. Yea, though it may seem that I am faltering in my step, the truth, brother, is that I am only growing stronger in this, my decision to leave. I intend to pass many nights in the desert, tuning my skills with the harmony of Nature and Her universe, only to return stronger. I will meditate on the many teachings you have imparted to my impoverished spirit, like handfuls of golden credits dropped in the bowl of a famished beggar.
When I feel that the time has come, when I can sing the song of strength, where now I can barely hum its few simple chords, I will return, and we shall all be the better for it.
For now, go, and be strong. You have always been strong, and it is in this that you will now find comfort.
Solidarity among our own blood, and curse the wretched blood spilt forth from the haunches of thine enemies.
Forever in your debt, eternally in awe of your kindness,
– Your Friend
I figured an email of that length would buy me some time. For someone who can’t spell “swear,” my assumption was that he’d spend the next two days with a dictionary, trying to decipher my message.
I was wrong.
From: Your space friend
Subject: re: ware r u?
wares our house?!?
Busted. I guess my message wasn’t all that impressive.
I tried a slightly different tactic this time.
I stole it, dipshit.
Maybe not as diplomatic as the first, but I felt like this guy was going to keep on bugging me if I didn’t make it clear that his emails were unwelcome. I mean, I had more houses to steal, and there’s only so much time in the day.
He quickly fired this beauty off to me:
From: Your space friend
Subject: re: ware r u?
we r gonna find u and u will b sorry
I was fine with this arrangement and sent one last email, for old times' sake.
OK.
In the end, I’m actually pretty happy with the new version of SWG. In the old one, there wasn’t anything interesting to do. Here, I can strive to be a Level 15 Bastard.
Right now, I’m in the process of trying to get some other like-minded people together to form a gang with me. Not a “guild,” mind you, but a gang. Then, I want us all to take to the streets and spend our time spare changing.
“Got a credit you can spare, sir? Have a nice day…”
“Can you spare any part of a credit, m’lady? Have a nice day…”
“Why lie? I need a space beer. How ‘bout some credits?”
I think it will be quite entertaining.
Money well spent.
Recommended.