Fuck elves

Oh, and I remembered the third thing that bothered me from updates this morning .. I saw this picture and this quote from the actress who plays god knows who in Hobbit.

 

Killing? Really? Killing? Because that's what people who love Hobbit want to see? Killing? You're gonna put in another fucking elf with six foot extensions to do more killing?How is this a movie about battles and slaughter and who guts whom with what? Who are these fucking elves? As I remember it, there were only two elves worth naming in Hobbit: one was kind and wise and good (Elrond) and the other was a fucking asshole (Thranduil). I was fine with that, because elves are supposed to represent a kind of polarity in sage ambition (same as wizards) – you can go right and be a spiritual, well read entity of legend, or you can go wrong and you can act as a total dick. Thranduil was a total dick. Everybody knew that. He knew that. That was a whole point. And I understand you need to continue to up the ante on fighting the actual villains (admittedly, interesting addition to Thorin's consta whining), but now we not only get that idiot Orlandobloomiel fifteen years later, shooting more arrows and doing more fake-lens-wide-eyed glaring, as if that's all this movie is about. (I don't mind him doing it three times in an eleven hour saga. But taking time away from Beorn for more CGI Legolas is lame.) Seriously, as if killing took talent and courage. Any moron thug can manage admirably well.

I imagine my problem with »who's the best dressed bully« is because I have gotten to that final stage in playing Warcraft, where I dare to be the tank. Tank is the most complicated and responsible role one can play. (Except if you ask twelve year old boys. Than it's real easy.) There are usually 12 players to every tank in 25 raid groups. Or, the regular deal, five people and one of them is a tank. The other complicated role is that of a healer, but there are three healers to a tank in raids. In a group of 25 players, among six healers, you can be pretty stupid and the group will still pull through. But not easily so, if you're a bad tank.

So now, I'm playing a tank. Rockstar had to help me with the first twenty levels and explained the basics which I live by to this day. Those were good tips. Vital, in fact. And after a while, you get to predict stuff that will make the job harder. It's never the trick of being a good player in a good group. It's doing the salvaging of difficult that makes a solid performer (agree, elves?)

Here are some of my favorite responds to retarded co-players.

Me: »Hunter, please turn the growl off your pet. It's pulling apart my CC (crowd control).«

Them: »Just be a better tank.«

(Once you get all the mobs to fight YOU, everyone else can do their part. But if a growling pet breaks it and it does repeatedly, everyone else is consta interrupted. There’s no winning against huntards.)

Me: “Hunter, please turn off the aspect of the pack.”

Them: “Why?”

(After 60 levels, you would think that they would notice that being under that aspect makes your character unable  to move or cast when struck?)

-

Them: »Big pulls, please. Or let the druid tank, he's pulling whole rooms.«

Me: »Yes, because being able to pull the mobs is what's important in a tank.”

(Any idiot can – and usually does – pull lots of mobs on themselves. Keeping them on and staying alive during is where the focus comes in.”

-

Rogue tanks. (Rogues are the fastest moving roles and have the tendency to think themselves the most amazing, but the problem is, but sticky bit is, they are wearing leather, not plait.)

-

Folk who sign in as DPS, but are in fact in tank spec and tank needs and tank spells. But can’t play for shit, so when they break the CC and the healer dies and then everyone else, it’s my fault. They will loot my gear, though. For their “off” spec.

-

And my favorite by far, from a healer: Big pulls, please. (Me: “Will you be able to keep up?”) I will, but you are kind of weak.

(It’s super easy to pull whole rooms and even to control them, but of course the healer needs to be able to heal, otherwise bye bye muchachos. If they are too lazy or too dumb, though, it is of course your gear that’s the issue. Not his.)

………………………………………………………

So spare me the Pai Mei bullshit. Who’s the biggest bully in da cave is NOT something to celebrate your culture upon.

Dyslexic Galdiautors*

As it goes, modern man isn't really afraid of much - not really. I mean - what are you afraid of? I can't think of anything. You need to be fully fledged mentally unstable person to actually have a fear. Not *worry* or a *phobia*. Sure, we all worry about pain and loss and loneliness, or tend to avoid, say, orange food or dirty surfaces.. But to be afraid? Be it a Hun horde, a dragon or a ghetto bully, when all instinct is purged and nothing but logic, intellect and self-esteem remain, it's "Bring it on, bitch!"

As it goes, fear isn't really something that happens lightly to anyone above twelve. It occurred to me, while watching Fringe, that these days an ideal woman is practically a Valkyre - actress Anna Torv portrays a popular character which is independent, righteous, fierce and beautiful in a robust, in-your-face way. What was the ideal woman 100 years ago? Scarlett O'Harra?

Last truly intense, mind numbing fear I can think of personally was a descent from a mountain we've been undertaking last summer. Piček and I did a peak a day before and two peaks that day and the last one was a bitch to get on, yet alone off... I was getting very tired, it was foggy, we were in a natural shaft and the path, mostly on moist wires and rungs, was commemorated with marble plaques of people who died here - a lot. It was Hellfull descend. Anything could go wrong and one of us would fall and that would be it - instantly. Even bigger problem was that we could barely help one another, there was just no room to offer a hand. At one point Piček stepped off a line, which was too low to hold and walk around the hanging cliff and the room it created leaned me outwards almost impossibly - I had no way of managing the next step. My body choked, I started to have a hysterical fit and he simply couldn't reach me. But luckily they trained us in the army to allow these fits to pass, explain we need a minute and then start cursing and kicking. Ultimately, slowly and surely we managed to reach the path on the ground (slippery and brittle, an old glacier slope, but ON THE GROUND). That, and of course driving over Tizi'N'Test were truly frightening moments.

Now, within the confide of my home, nothing much truly frightens me. But I do thrive on reflexive sensations that in the natural circumstance would offer me an adrenaline boost (other than that I am certainly not an adrenaline junky - I find such activities rather boring), so playing computer games come in very handy. A cool Saturday afternoon, post nap, post snack, and the lot of us - us two, sis and her mate and perhaps another (usually a tank), take on serious dungeons. And within those moments, when brain needs to work, reflexes need to work, concentration needs to work and stakes are high (seriously, dude, it's a GAME), I tremble and shake and itch and gasp... :D I love it. No idea how I allow myself to be so genuinely involve with something that could NEVER reach me, yet somehow I experience it profoundly and love it a 100 %. Such afternoons boost me plenty. They make for some actually good memories :)

*the name of  friend's playgroup ;))