[GBM] On Free Will

Day 2,599, 14:09 Published in USA USA by Paul Proteus
Dear subscriber, we live to write another day

As always, Mood Musik

This is going to be somewhat of a spiritual successor to an earlier article, similarly named, of mine. Time has passed, and yet, not much has changed.

The Fallacy of Stability


Perhaps it's time we had some anarchy

What's frustrating, to me at least, isn't necessarily that the political atmosphere of the eUS hasn't changed, but rather that the dialogue surrounding it has remained static in spite of events that I'd have hoped would have forced some reflection.

In spite of the success of rainy's campaign against the mundanity of a single-candidate scenario, and in spite of the actual competitive nature of a campaign cobbled together by players considered borderline non-entities by the national narrative, we've learned nothing.

In spite of the fact that WildOwl is essentially running unopposed, his (and my) friend's endorsement feels a need to chastise any tangential, and clearly satirical announcements, as a threat to stability. From an excellent writer, I read that this game is past redeeming through community outreach. I read that we cannot "fun our way out of this."

I don't know if it's possible for me to disagree more.

This game is dying for many reasons. Undeniably, it's a bad game. That certainly contributes. Yet, and perhaps it's a result of my own naïveté, I can't help but believe this attitude contributes. It is an odd game – and eRepublik, contrary to what you may hear, is a game – in which we are to give up on having fun. It is an even odder online community-based game in which we are to also forsake the very concept of expanding and engaging our community. Most damning of all, perhaps, it is a game I do not want to play, in which we continue to guide, and create make-shift repairs to Theseus' rotting ship, with a steady hand no less. It is still eRepublik, but at the same time it's not, it's hardly even a game.

Rather, the eRepublik I play for is what we make out of the rubble. What happens when we realize the game we are playing is no longer what we signed up for. What happens when we realize that we can make something new, do something different, mine entertainment and satisfaction out of what remains for the few months we have left to do it.


This is what I say to your play-style

We can choose to play a pale imitation of 2009 until the lights go out, or we can create something special. There is so much we can do that wasn't possible.

None of that involves single candidate elections. None of that involves planning our President in a back room half a year in advance. If we play with the goal of taking turns letting old players preside over buttons and wrack up medals, and give up on reaching for anything more, we're not only going to lose out on retaining newer players, we're going to lose 5 year veterans like myself, until all that's left are a handful of people, switching off clicking buttons and entering Credit Card info.

To choose stability over risk, to choose the unexpected over the interesting, to limit ourselves, is ultimately, and quixotically, the pursuit of the reverse. As we strive for stability, we achieve the opposite.

Refusing to take risks, is, in its own way, suicide.

A Brave New World


Why bother when it's so much easier not to care

As the inexorable march of time continues, as parties slip into irrelevance, and newer players find fewer and fewer resources available to help them, I see absolutely no reason why we must resort to cynicism.

Ultimately, when playing a dying game, fun is the only option we have.

Being said, I look forward to WildOwl's term, he's a good guy and a strong candidate. More so, I look forward to the future, and next month, when perhaps things will be less black and white, when the opposition is more than a self-depreciating joke, and when we can recognize just how important a little unpredictability can be.

That's all for today, carry on~


And, your moment of zen:


Props to Dely who found this

Until next time,

Paul Proteus