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On Rewarding Socialization In MMORPGs
Thanks to Skotos.net for their article discussing how social interaction affects gameplay in MMO titles. The piece suggests: "That the majority of MMORPGs, MUDs, and other multiplayer games ultimately support achiever players over socializers, or even killers, I think begins to outline how poorly we understand - and support - true social interactions in today's multiplayer games." It goes on to discuss freeform socialization ("We slap a chatline into a game. Then we spend as much time making it look nice"), competitive socialization ("the richest form of interaction possible in multiplayer games, yet ironically it's more often been seen as a problem than as a potential virtue"), and co-operative socialization ("One of the few games that has really tried to push this envelope is Asheron's Call with its ideas for feudal structures.")
Most of the players of these games are geeks, like the /. crowd.
Therefore they have no social skills anyway. Most people play games to get AWAY from life and INTO a world where they can use their strengths and avoid their weaknesses.
So why spend time working on a feature that most of the players have little skill in using anyway?
Sure, someone's going to say how much geeks use text messaging. I'm sure they do. It's a nice way to communicate without having to learn social skills and to avoid REAL interaction while pretending to be openly communicating.
NIGGERS OWNER MANUAL
INSTALLING YOUR NIGGER.
You should install your nigger differently according to whether you have purchased
the field or house model. Field niggers work best in a serial configuration, i.e. chained together. Chain your nigger to another nigger immediately on unpacking it, and don't even think about taking that chain off, ever. Many niggers start singing as soon as you put a chain on them. This habit can usually be thrashed out of them if nipped in the bud. House niggers work best as standalone units, but should be hobbled or hamstrung to prevent attempts at escape. At this stage, your nigger can also be given a name. Most owners use the same names over and over, since niggers become confused by too much data. Rufus, Rastus, Remus, Toby, Carslisle, Carlton, Hey-You!-Yes-you!, Yeller, Blackstar, and Sambo are all effective names for your new buck nigger. If your nigger is a ho, it should be called Latrelle, L'Tanya, or Jemima. Some owners call their nigger hoes Latrine for a joke. Pearl, Blossom, and Ivory are also righteous names for nigger hoes. These names go straight over your nigger's head, by the way.
CONFIGURING YOUR NIGGER.
Owing to a design error, your nigger comes equipped
with a tongue and vocal chords. Most niggers can
master only a few basic human phrases with this
apparatus - "muh dick" being the most popular. However, others make
barking, yelping, yapping noises and appear to be in
some pain, so you should probably call a vet and have
him remove your nigger's tongue. Once de-tongued your
nigger will be a lot happier - at least, you won't
hear it complaining anywhere near as much. Niggers
have nothing interesting to say, anyway. Many owners
also castrate their niggers for health reasons (yours,
mine, and that of women, not the nigger's). This is
strongly recommended, and frankly, it's a mystery why
this is not done on the boat
HOUSING YOUR NIGGER.
Your nigger can be accommodated in cages with stout iron bars. Make sure, however, that the bars are wide enough to push pieces of nigger food through. The rule of thumb is, four niggers per square yard of cage. So a fifteen foot by thirty foot nigger cage can accommodate two hundred niggers. You can site a nigger cage anywhere, even on soft ground. Don't worry about your nigger fashioning makeshift shovels out of odd pieces of wood and digging an escape tunnel under the bars of the cage. Niggers never invented the shovel before and they're not about to now. In any case, your nigger is certainly too lazy to attempt escape. As long as the free food holds out, your nigger is living better than it did in Africa, so it will stay put. Buck niggers and hoe niggers can be safely accommodated in the same cage, as bucks never attempt sex with black hoes.
FEEDING YOUR NIGGER.
Your Nigger likes fried chicken, corn bread, and watermelon. You
should therefore give it none of these things because its lazy ass almost certainly doesn't deserve it. Instead, feed it on porridge with salt, and creek water. Your nigger will supplement its diet with whatever it finds in the fields, other niggers, etc. Experienced nigger owners sometimes push watermelon slices through the bars of the nigger cage at the end of the day as a treat, but only if all niggers have worked well and nothing has been stolen that day. Mike of the Old Ranch Plantation reports that this last one is a killer, since all niggers steal something almost every single day of their lives. He reports he doesn't have to spend much on free watermelon for his niggers as a result. You should never allow your nigger meal breaks while at work, since if it stops work for more than ten minutes it will need to be retrained. You would be surprised how long it takes to teach a nigger to pick cotton. You really would. Coffee beans? Don't ask. You have no idea.
MAKING YOUR NIGGER WORK.
Niggers are very, very averse to work of any kind. The nigger's most prominent anatomical feature, after all, its
Untitled, inspired by Scooby Doo
"GROOBY ROOBY ROOOOOO!!!" exclaimed Scooby, as his powerful 121/2 inches of angry canine lovestick spewed gallon after gallon of semen over Daphne's naked ass and thighs.
"Oh Scooby, that was amazing, as always,' panted Daphne, as the dregs of her 5th consecutive orgasm died away. "But I do wish you would keep your voice down in the future; you know what my Freddy's like, he gets so jealous - I sure he knows there's something between us.'
Fred and Daphne had been 'going steady' for some time now, Fred believing Daphne to be a virgin; however, Daphne had neglected to mention to him the hot lesbian affair she was conducting with Velma (the way she cried 'Jinkies!' upon climax still rang in Daphne's ears) and the fact that she was here in the back of the Mystery Machine every other night, letting Scooby satisfy his animalistic urges upon her.
But she knew she was a slut, and, goddamn it, she liked it. If it had a pulse, or even if it didn't (as had been the case with numerous supernatural entities in the past), hell, then she was game.
Much as she loved Fred for his sturdy sensibility, his all-American good looks, and his impeccable dress-sense, she found him prudish at times. "Not until we're married, Daph!" he would protest, each time she made her amorous advances towards him. Maybe it was his strict Catholic upbringing. Was it any wonder, she often reasoned, that she had to satisfy her cravings elsewhere? If only Fred could understand, if only he could see the fires that burned within her, within her very being, within her moist and welcoming loins...
Well, in the meantime...
"You ready to go again, Scoob?" she purred, winking seductively, and already back on all-fours.
"UR-HUR-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" chuckled Scooby, obviously overjoyed at the prospect.
Just as Scooby was getting ready to deftly plunge his gargantuan helmet into Daphne's juicy crevice, Daphne warned: "Please, Scooby, try to keep it down this time - I don't want Freddy to hear..."
"You don't want Freddy to hear what?"
They both looked round. The doors of the Mystery Machine were torn open, and there, his white sweater glinting in the moonlight, stood Fred, the fire of anger burning fiercely behind his eyes. He surveyed the scene before him - the Great Dane, in an obvious state of extreme arousal, hunched over his precious Daphne's naked ass - and he felt decidedly un-Christian thoughts brewing in his mind.
"You don't want Freddy to hear...what???" Fred repeated, with even more bile.
"Freddy!!! I...I...it's not what it seems...we were just...Scooby! Get off! Bad dog!", Daphne stuttered and protested, trying in vain to pin the blame upon Scooby.
"Oh don't start with that shit, you fucking bitch," spat Fred, his face contorted. "I know what you two have been up to. Every night you come out here, I've been watching you through the Mystery Machine's windscreen. You two make me sick".
"But," he continued, "as I watched more of your trysts, I came to realize that...I like sick."
An evil, mischievous grin spread across his lips.
"And now...it's time for your punishment."
Unable to move, unable to breathe, Daphne and Scooby watched transfixed as Fred produced a number of items he had been concealing behind his back; a coat hanger; a 12-inch, jet-black dildo; a length of barbed wire; an extra large tube of KY Jelly; and a curious, shapeless item that neither of them could make out in the gloom.
"RAAAGGYYY!!!! RELLLLP!!!!" cried Scooby in desperation.
"Oh, Shaggy can't hear you," said Fred, advancing on the pair menacingly. "I'm afraid I had to introduce him and Velma to the joys of S&M, followed by violent anal rape, followed by death."
"Freddy? Wha...what's happened to you?" stammered Daphne.
"Oh, nothing much, baby...I just decided to start living," said Fred through clenched teeth. "Unfortunately, the exact opposite can be said for our little friend here..
The niggers and other mud races, which are anti-civilization by nature, have been "tolerated", the result being that the civilization is gradually ceasing to exist. As a nigger, for example, cannot be made to identify with that which is not in his nature, he can only make America like that which is in his nature: an anarchical jungle. Those who reign, therefore, are responsible for the growing mayhem in our country. They are responsible for the growing destruction of the American civilization.