A Barbarous life at sea, A herald of the open oceans: fear and generalised anxiety in CIV 5

When is a door not a door, how is a raven like a writing desk, and does absolute power corrupt absolutely? Science, philosophy and general substance addled discourse has strained against the iron purview of such question since Socrates invented thinking back when the world was new, or at least comparatively newer. Civilisation five or V or 5, came out in 2010 but didn’t actually start dating until the DLC made it good, turning it from and awkward teen into a chiselled machismo with a firm yet tender grip. It is due to this game that we are now able to answer at least one of these questions: when it’s a ajar.

Already one question ahead of the rest of society i decided to double down on my perversion and enlisted the help of two fellow masters of the arts to aid me in my quest to uncover the true nature of man. In order to protect their identities and properly set up my Freudian understanding i have elected to call them Id and superego respectively, or rather disrespectively but certainly not unrespectively. Multiplayer is the realm in which realpolitik takes place; no man is an island but we certainly were, because we all spawned on islands.

The aptly named ID, (shout out to whoever came up with that (it was me!)) began at once to expand in a feverish frenzy. they sought out war and destruction as though they were a invasive goat left behind by sailors, however alone on their island the id had to content itself with seeking out god, or more specifically Sikhism's god.

The super ego however was steadfast in it's self control and discipline, promising to never raise arms unless provoked. There was a single caveat to this. The soul exception: a grudge they harboured against the nuclear warlord Mahatma Gandhi. Fate was not kind and their island was not empty. The power struggle began at once, two nations mud wrestling to keep their heads above the water on some desolate sandbank in the middle of the vast uncaring ocean, at least they had crabs.

Let me as an aside to the this tangent talk about the game for a minute, okay thirty seconds but this pretext doesn’t count, okay it does. One plays as the leaders of civilisations advancing through history and trying to prosper by whatever means available to them, if that sounds vague it’s because you only gave me thirty seconds so who’s to blame really? You! It’s definitely YOU! For imposing these ridiculous pressured on a journalist of my stature, i can’t even reach the top shelf without my tippy toes.

If they are id and superego, that makes me the Ego, shout out to…

I was playing as the Chinese and knowing a thing or two about china and it’s ocean going expeditions i figured i could do fairly well for myself so long as i avoided England. The plan was simple, spawn in a really convenient position on the map and use the shallow water ways to hop between islands and set up trade with the city states. Soon i had a merchant navy so full of seamen it make the emperor proud, he frolicked gaily. While that joke might strike some as crass and probably too easy, even for me, i am forced to remark that the racial stereotypes that informed my city names were far, far more crass indeed. You could probably guess them without giving it a moment's thought, i know i didn’t.

Yes those stereotypes couldn’t hope to justify the first joke and that’s the point really. The power rushed to my head like a surge of adrenaline or an another thing that works as a suitable, succinct simile. War! Religion, and institutional racism and homophobia! All had taken root on three separate islands independently. Once calm headed rational fellows, and myself, had been taken in my the spreadsheets, forced to sink or swim. we thought 'To hell with the little guy,' and sought out the quickest means to vilify them.

What happened next will add to my word count but i must note i haven't the foresight to know what my next session will bring but i shan't let its hindsight scrub my words thus far. Can humanity be redeemed, i wait with baited breath.

Part 2

The ego, myself. Produced a navy the likes of which the world had never seen. Bloody rampage followed. It began with espionage, the Iroquois stole, china denounced, war followed. In what seemed like the blink of an eye four cities were annexed. Next the id’s Celts rolled in like wailing Valkyries catching Ghandi unprepared allowing the super-ego and id to create their own Warsaw pact. Next was England, it’s religious zealotry out striped even the id’s as it ejaculated white hot religious fervor straight into the faces of other nations. Doubly concerning, they had declared war on the superego for reasons unknown.

Peace came with the price of blood, England was conquered by the trio but in her dying breaths the queen Elizabeth revealed the she’d been receiving funds from the Celts, so too had the Iroquois. The id had engineered wars to override the good sense of its contemporaries, it craven desire for gratification made manifest in the burning rubble of two lost empires.

What came next was the long silence. The tripartite psyche, now the only ones left, festered their animosity unable to find an external other for their Hegelian ascent to self-hood. Friendly exchanges became paranoid probings of the enemies intent. The high seas were filled with ships ferrying coin and a plague of fear that threatened to sink the islands into another brutal war. an incident of general land grabbing (literal!) brought tensions to boil in the far east, a now staving city bereft of aid became a sour joke to its calloused governors.  

Things came to a head when a set of deadly propositions were dropped into world governments lap: China tried to ban people copying their technology and failed, then the Celts banned crab. Finally japan proposed china be embargoed, so China’s fleet set sail and for a time it seemed war was about to surface again… 

Though the game isn’t yet over history waits for no one. So i must publish this story without an ending, at least for the time being. I’m sure you’ll all wait with baited breath for a follow up but in summary: war makes a mockery of all, power demands one renounce or become enslaved to teleology, and a writing desk and raven both have legs. This game has horses so i rate it civ 5/5.

The league of legends conspiracy: unmasked, disrobed and now totally nude.

I was, wasting time on / using, reddit when a message popped up in my inbox saying that i ought to review a new specific game or rather that i ought to apply to review a game that this person was associated with. While i haven’t bothered to reply for fear their refusal will shatter the bracket of glowing golden ego i am now cloaked in, i have however elected to share this detail with my adoring fans to keep them sure in the knowledge that i am too lazy to ‘sell out’ or ‘take my work seriously’ furthermore unto the quagmire.

League of legends is a powerful opioid drug manufactured by in a snowstorm by an as yet unnamed demigod for it’s nefarious scheme of destroying the world. Now if that sounds just a little unhinged to you then well done, you took that literally; you fucking idiot. That being said it’s time for me to don my tinfoil hat as i unravel the conspiracy of league of legends.

That sounded like a decent thing to say but i know next to nothing about conspiracies, which makes me remarkably well informed for a conspiracy theorist, but hey that’s just a set up for an reference, an internet reference. The game is a moba standing Massive oba (oba meaning ruler in the Yoruba language spoken in west africa) this initially didn’t seem to make a lot of sense until the game took a despotic turn eating up by free time and subjecting me to an endless tirade of debasing and humiliating experiences or as they are called in game: matches.

Each match lasts about as long as an episode of the X files but unlike the X files the truth isn’t out there all there is ‘out there’ is four angry teens out to talk shit about you... and the enemy team is there too. Talking about individual encounters or events that transpired during my playtime is much like trying to recall the events of a drunken night out. Ultimately i can’t decide if i had fun or not. So assume i did, maybe, i mean i‘m kind of sore and for some reason there's a bruise on my left cheek so… good times?

Much like a cult the game introduces strange and unhinged behaviours into the minds of it’s players. Sadism, antagonism, loathing and tantrums or SALT for short. Players on the losing team often exhibit symptoms of saltiness, seeing as they are collectively at a disadvantage though that won’t stop the instalocking AP jungle fizz from feeding because you didn’t give them half of all your minions and a kill every two minutes. It’s perfectly possible to win the game and feel nothing but puerile hatred for oneself and one’s team, this is called competitive mode in game. There’s also the possibility you’ll start spending a lot of money without gaining any tangible benefit, a fate i cleverly avoided by being broke.

Each game is structured like a story by laughably racist hp lovecraft. Each story starts normally enough with a long and boring tirade about geology and then bam! Madness, horrors beyond your own awareness and a light smattering of pseudo scientific racism and racial stereotypes. I’m pretty sure that latter elements are just dota trolls working to destabilise the game in a vile conspiracy to undermine the values the community... or i would be sure of that if it wasn’t half the darn player base demanding i provide them with oral satisfaction on the basis because they didn’t bother to ward the river.

After that all bets are off and the game progresses to the team fight stage. This is supposed to be part where the players engage in a bout of jolly cooperation. The reality is a cornucopia of decadent egotism that’d make even most vain regime on the planet blush with their comparatively meek sensibility. Tilted and salty individual attempt to interact with fellow teammates, this is about a friendly as starved chimps engaging in bare knuckle boxing. It is at this point where the illuminati wins… for some reason, i’m not sure why but if i keep reillterialing the point emphatically it will only serve to make my rational argument more solvent.

As of march there are 134 playable champions in the game, so we’ll say over 120 because that’s a nicer number and to be honest no one plays Skarner anyway. Apparently Mordekaiser is now the least played dude, i guess he is no longer neuero uno brazil. Mind you i’m not sure he ever was. Anyway, is that too many champions? Who knows? Pundits probably.

The game has lore but it’s about as meaningful as changing your profile picture on facebook to show solidarity with the current humanitarian disaster or star wars movie, i can’t remember if have heard this joke elsewhere but if i openly admit to the possibility of stealing it then it’s okay right? To say any more would be giving it more credit than it’s due, even this is a bit much. Anything more i ought to say? Probably but I’m not wildly interested in spending my sunday morning remembering when i could be watching the swallows in garden. Oh, Aram is a thing… it’s at least slightly less tryhard.

Over 120 champions and only one is a horse (half horse), now this is a conspiracy. I therefor rate this game. 0.5/about 120.