The Soapbox: Actually, it IS a land of rainbows and unicorns

Disclaimer: The Soapbox column is entirely the opinion of this week's writer and does not necessarily reflect the views of Massively as a whole. If you're afraid of opinions other than your own, you might want to skip this column.

My neighborhood is a perfect representation of the general MMORPG community. I walk my dogs around the block twice a day, so I have seen probably much more than any other community member would ever guess. You'd be surprised how much you miss if you don't get out and walk around the block. The cast of characters is always there: there are the old men who rise at precisely Retired o'Clock only to stand on their front lawns with hands in pockets, griping about the price of milk. I walk by and I can tell they want me to participate. Sure, they'll mention how pretty my dog is and might even ask how I'm doing -- but I know what they really want to talk about. Misery might love company, but frankly I think drinking milk is disgusting.

There is one nimble old man, however, who jogs around the entire block at least twice a week. He's tall and lanky, but that doesn't stop him from flapping around the area in his too-old-for-those shorts. Let me be honest: Every time I see him, I fantasize that he is holding up his middle finger at those gripey old men as he passes them by.

Meanwhile, most people are in their houses, laughing at the television and eating dinner. They are happy with life but busy living it. They don't say much and rarely leave the house.

The MMORPG community is just like that. I stay busy walking around the block, checking out the sights. There's the jogger, too. The old men get up and refresh their spots on the lawn, as well -- but in this virtual community they use megaphones to force locals to hear what they have to say.

Again, though, the majority are inside their experiences, happily plugging away at dungeons and chances for epic loot.

I would hope that each one of us could think about it for a minute and figure out which group we belong to. To a writer, the grumpy old men are tiring, but not because their arguments have merit. It's just exhausting to hear about milk every day. Yes, I understand: That patch ruined your life. No, I'm not sure why you decided to tell me that in an article that merely used the same letters that make up the name of your arch-nemesis developer, but I get it. You're angry, and by God you're not going to take it anymore.

Here's the problem, though: If you are one of the gripey old men, you're doing nothing but encouraging the very thing you are griping about. You are passing on no useful information while still drinking the milk. Anger does not translate to information; aggravation does not equate to something useful. After all, a game is like any other product -- don't use it if the price is too high. Not only that, but there are dozens of different dairy products that pass on the same useful calcium into your body. Hell, buy some vitamins and stop griping about milk.

If you want change in your life (virtual or otherwise), you improvise. You explore the neighborhood. You take a jog around the block. You pick up a carton of Soy. The difference between the vocal minority and the silent majority is that the people in the majority have a measure of sanity in their hobby. If the game becomes too frustrating, they quit playing or find another game.

If you find yourself becoming frustrated, take a break. Go splash some cool water on your face and lie down. No, leave the TV off. Open your blinds just enough so that you can see the moon and think: Would I want a mean-spirited little goblin poking me in the ribs while I worked? Remember, developers did not intentionally create that patch to ruin your experience, I promise. It might seem as though they were literally trying to force you to buy that shiny new cash-shop item (after all, how else could you perform like everyone else?), but I can assure you they weren't. You always, always have options. Understand that MMORPG gaming is a circus. It's filled with sights and smells and pretty girls on tightropes -- it really is -- but you will never notice any of that if you're too busy moaning about the stitching on the tent.

MMORPG gaming, for me, has opened up a world that is simply not possible outside of its own unique experience. I have met so many different types of people: disabled players who hardly have the use of one hand yet manage to climb mountains in game, and veterans who simply want to craft a stout piece of armor. In a social game, I even befriended an older woman who was hesitant to tell me she had won the lottery -- as in millions of dollars -- because people reacted to her differently when she told them that. All of these wonderful people and unique situations arose out of the beautiful, basic ability of even the worst MMO to connect strangers together. But all of the wonderful experiences I have had over the last 11 or so years -- the first time I made fire in Wurm Online, the first time I killed a lich in Ultima Online, rebirth in Mabinogi, visiting Seaside in Free Realms -- counted also on my ability to register them as wonderful.

If you're not finding the innovation, you're simply not looking hard enough, or you're looking way too hard -- I promise. It might take four or five or even a dozen games to satisfy you. But those experiences are out there, trust me. There are literally hundreds of titles to look at, and hundreds more coming within the next few years. If you're too lazy to kick out of your box, then maybe you can train a two-dollar mouse to press the keys -- within an afternoon he might fish up a handful of new games to try. Just remember: It's not them. It's you.

Meanwhile, if you're one of the silent majority, you have more to do than anybody. You had better start speaking up. You can literally help steer the future development of these wonderful worlds that we play in. You're the worker bee -- without you and your even-natured acceptance, we'd have no industry. That's a lot of power, but it's useless to those who need opinions other than "meh." Sure, you might have digested the content, but did you love it or hate it? Don't let the grumpy old men speak for you. They won't stop, after all. The NGE happened years and years ago -- watch the comments I get just from mentioning that.

Let's all get to work. Stop waiting for a game to replace your first kiss. I was 14 when I first fell in love, but now I don't even remember what she looked like. It's going to be tough for many of you, and there will be a lot of uninstalling going on. Keep it up, though -- keep supporting the truly innovative games and we will only see more innovation. Here's a good rule of thumb: If you can't play it now, don't wait for it. There are too many incredible worlds that can be explored right now, but only if you go out and download them. Now. You don't have time to try out new games? Let's be realistic -- if you had the time to leave a history of comments on this site, you had time to download a game. If you had time to read a column on this site, you had time to try a new game. If you had time to let some review convince you either way, you had time to try the game out for yourself.

Or just keep griping about the price of milk.

Everyone has opinions, and The Soapbox is how we indulge ours. Join the Massively writers every Tuesday as we take turns atop our very own soapbox to deliver unfettered editorials a bit outside our normal purviews. Think we're spot on -- or out of our minds? Let us know in the comments!