Things aren't as good as they used to be. Sure, we now have the fabulous wonders of Battle.net to eat away the hours, but things used to be oh-so-much better.
Back in the good old days when I was just knee-high to the hairy-palmed troglodyte that I have grown to become, we had the Multi-User Dungeon. The wonders of text based, interactive game play seemed to be boundless, ending forever the long hours spent running up your parents' phone bill trolling BBS (Bulletin Board Service) after BBS in the pursuit of a genuine piece of decent pirated software. We were in a golden age, my friends, where people of a like mind and similar dysfunctions could get together under the pretense of completing a fantastic journey unique to them by virtue of their active involvement in the plot.
The fact that it generally devolved into hours of "You see grassy plains all around you. Go N, S, E, or W" while running madly from some uber-powerful player killer seemingly hell-bent on rending your level 2 head from your eloquently described body is irrelevant. So is the fact that you were still level two only because every time you tried to complete the level three quest, there were already 15 other people camped in the room where the required NPC should be, or would be if someone hadn't come along 30 minutes ago and killed him as some sick practical joke on a bunch of little newbies with only a wee wooden sword for protection. These things were irrelevant, it was the spirit of the MUD that made it so worthwhile.
Not that playing Diablo on the free Battle.Net gaming service isn't superb, splendid even. The dazzling graphics, awe inspiring sounds and wonderfully crafted team play are matchless. But, despite all the glitz and glamour involved with ridding the world of the minions of hell, there is a distinct something missing from the whole experience. Everyone feels it when they play, that little void in their otherwise fulfilled existence caused by the complete absence of cybersex.
Thousands of completely unanimous strangers congregating online without even a whiff of an opportunity to get a little funky with a similarly perverted member of the opposite sex is a shameful thing, but Battle.Net is just not the swinging place to pick up chicks that I thought it'd be.
For starters, there's the character selection. I'm a pretty upfront guy when it comes to letting people know the size of my staff, if you know what I mean, and I always assumed the most others were the same. Imagine my surprise when I realized that there were actually guys who wanted to play as a chick! I'm no dummy, and I've always known that there are a few weirdoes out there. Running around in women's clothing, playing big hardy jokes on all of us red blooded 'merican males, leading us out on wild adventures that came to a shocking finale when we finally discovered the family jewels, but I never expected to find so many of them hanging around in the same place. Many a time I received the proverbial kick in the ghoulies upon propositioning what looked to be a hot sorceress chick. I began to doubt my own sanity, not to mention my masculinity, when I realized that I must have been attracting them to me, as this certainly couldn't be the norm.
Wandering day after day through the Realms left me dazed, and worried that I may have been in a dwindling minority, when yet another realization dawned on me. There is absolutely no privacy on Battle.net. No sooner had I actually found a chick in a chick body and began to work my funky mojo when some oaf barbarian came wandering in and spoiled what would have otherwise turned into a rather sordid affair. There isn't a dank, dark corner anywhere that a raging hetero can use to practice his one-handed typing.
Cybersex isn't generally a popular activity on Battle.Net, not nearly as much as it was a part of MUDs.
Oh, how I longed for the open ranges of the MUD. It was there that I learned not only exactly how depraved and sordid every single one of us is on the inside, but that I could type with more than just the index finger on my right hand. The experience helped me blossom into the well-rounded, rapid typist that I am today.
The MUDs are mostly empty these days, what with everyone being enamored with every bit of eye candy put before them. I'm afraid the days of text coming in quick bursts like the panted breaths of two lovers embroiled in a moment of passion are long gone. There is nothing left to do but sit alone in the dark, bashing away at the forces of evil... one-handed. Or maybe I'm just hanging out in the wrong places.
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