Warcrack: A Social Commentary on World of Warcraft

“I need you to use Holy Nova when the mob comes, Scun,” instructed the armored creature, resembling something of a giant cow, to a smaller, more petite elf, with glowing green eyes.

“Everyone’s been here right?” A female voice, questioned, hoping that the answer would be instinctively positive. Now was not the time to be pointing where to run when the goblin monster came charging at high speed toward the crowd.

A few smattered yes’s came from the rest, standing in a haphazard semi-circle, a handful of meters away from the monster they were strategizing to engage; a few though were sitting cross legged and drinking from a pint that seemed to appear from thin air.

Adjusting my own headset, I brought the microphone up with my lips to verbally the reply to the “Ready Check” that my guild leader, Biggles, had initiated.

I’m a Level 80 Blood Elf Priest. A typical night running around as my luscious 3-D fantasy model, consists of raiding Naxxramas, farming for gold, and enchanting a melee weapon to the highest bidder. Clearly, if you haven’t the faintest what I’m talking about, you’re not one of the 11.5 million players, or the equivalent to the population of the state of Ohio, that log on to World of Warcraft on a daily basis. From the barely legal to the legally handicapped, there is no limitation to those who will spend countless hours trapped behind a computer screen of this visually captivating, yet retina impairing, world. If the tedious task of skinning dead crocodiles and racing around to find a treasure chests in graveyards inhabited by the walking dead, isn’t fascinating enough, then what is? Feeling shy? Then maybe trying to beat the record of most hours logged will sate your hunger for limited social interaction -- can you surpass the current holder of 463 days in under two years?

But unlike those who crave communication through emoticons and scantily-clad blue elves blowing kisses, some of us do a have a life. Despite spending my vet visits discussing boss tactics rather than the well being of my own furry feline, I go to school, play in a band, work, and actually leave my house to gather with people that put my senses to a Schwarzenegger-worthy work out. But what about the other sixty-two percent of the collective whole that is online gaming? Horror stories and clever nicknames like “Warcrack” have been floating around since Blizzard’s conception of the droningly addictive game. I’m pretty positive rival online games haven’t warranted the use of comparing them to illegal substances, like Warcraft has. Time stealing and relationship damaging, World of Warcraft has become more than a game; it’s become an unhealthy, and growing, obsession.

Admitting you have a problem is the first step. Take a leaf out China’s book; forcing their over thirty-one million online game players, only a fraction of that being World of Warcraft, that it was taking a neurotic toll. Don’t expect to play more than three hours a day on any “internet marijuana”, before the feds step in, giving you the proverbial “Game Over”. Like a recent nicotine patch junkie, still searching for anything to wrap and light despite it containing nothing resembling a cigarette, Chinese game players are far from deterred by the government’s parental controls. The booming sales, jumping nearly seventy-five percent from year to year, show that mythical creatures and fantasy lands won’t go extinct that easily. Three hours is better than no hours. The mindset in the States would be similar, if only our government stepped in to limit play. But fortunately for those who have already quit their careers and given up tangible friends to be committed to Warcraft, our government has done no such thing. Now there is no stopping the caffeine addicted players from sleepless nights of completing a job no one hired them to do.

But why does that mentality seem so appealing? Warcraft is a monotonous display of point and clicks, slaughtering innocent animals for experience that can’t be traded in towards the real world, and carrying around severed heads in a clearly defined, internet dimensional knapsack. Insanity is doing a task over and over and hoping to get different results. When that task is shrouded in multicolored polygons and non-playable characters with one dimensional cognitive abilities, it’s difficult to break the hypnosis in what are the cyclic adventures across Azeroth.

Instant gratification stems from all walks of life, from compliments to climaxes, so why not give it in a video game? Blizzard is no help with sating those who race to be the character with the most gear, so gaudy it would make Bjork cry. With their new achievement system, and lowering the amount it takes to get from one level to the next, boasting your “e-peen” to other faceless members of your Warcraft tribe has become suffocating those casually wanting to pass on through. By giving small bonuses to players who seem to always be skirting around the main cities no matter what time of day, there’s always a reason to keep coming back for more.

To those socially inept, Warcraft, like many online games, has become the new MySpace. Move over eHarmony! You’ll never find a larger congregation of burly men wielding axes or eye-appealing Blood Elves poppin’ and lockin’ than in the Wide World of Warcraft. Unless you count the weekend Blizzard holds its annual convention. Forcing those brave enough to venture out of the tomb that is their parent’s basement to play amongst others like them, it raises the possibility for those virtually virgins to become suave Prince Charmings of the Warcraft fame. Because waving to a girl across the cafeteria just isn’t as romantic to the female players as riding up on a white tiger and asking if she needs a lift to Stormwind from across computers. Even testing your new pickup line such as “Would you like to see my legendary sword?” would be ideal. Of course, if conversation gets awkward, you can always talk about the only thing you’ll have in common: World of Warcraft.

So the next time you’re turned down by your best friend for a wonderfully promising night on the town, because they’d rather let you down than their thirty some odd guild members they‘ve never met face to face, repeat the mantra: it’s not their fault. It’s simply Blizzard, for making those quests just slightly more thought provoking than conversation with you. It’s the media, for creating parody episodes of South Park and the Simpsons, that barely make them question their fanatical ties to the game, but rather laugh along saying “How true! I would ask my mom to bring me a bed pan so I never had to get up to go to the bathroom while playing either!”. It’s the other players, for encouraging dysfunctional sleeping habits, unnecessary verbal battles and condescending behavior to those we fondly call “noobs”, just to show the online gaming population who can be first on their server, to become nothing more than a faceless name on Wikipedia. And it’s you, for not understanding that your lack of involvement in the prolonged battle of the Horde versus the Alliance is just as catastrophic as a nuclear holocaust.

There's a great story about Pablo Picasso. Some guy told Picasso he'd pay him to draw a picture on a napkin. Picasso whipped out a pen and banged out a sketch, handed it to the guy, and said, "One million dollars, please."

"A million dollars?" the guy exclaimed. "That only took you thirty seconds!"

"Yes," said Picasso. "But it took me fifty years to learn how to draw that in thirty seconds."