If you’re as inquisitive, potentially neurotic and certainly harbouring myopic, distant tendencies as I do, then your probably frequently left pondering questions posed by friends, families and colleagues; is there really a superior being that watches over us? Will we ever truly reach a state of former prosperity after this recension? Is the sky green or are we all just merely colour blind? How has Keanu Reeves retained the status of “actor” without actually submitting any such vocations for over 2 decades? All very probing, intimately diverse conundrums, all requiring sufficient deliberation and level of sophisticated, detailed analysis, that even Stephan Hawking would struggle to evaluate such queries with a definitive and accurate hypothesis. But above all over routes of inquisitive enquiries, with incessant though passionate curiosity, is how I can refrain-with increasing abstinence-from Saturday night television, and alternatively devote my precarious time to gaming instead?
The sheer volume of allotted time I’ve apparently, negligently dedicated leaves many people with an apprehensive contortion, of perplexed bewilderment so clearly tethered across their complexion, with just the tiniest, discernible hint of resentment and perhaps even vague notion of pity, as though my methods should only be subtlety audible through hushed tones. To them such diligence to gaming is a propensity only reciprocated by an isolated teenager, bereft of any social interactions. What seems to escape these individuals is that I enjoy dispelling the monotony of laboured, wholly uninspired TV like colonic irrigation, rather than suffering the indignity of sacrificing the scattered increments of internal functions that deteriorate with an exertion of its incessant presence, accosting what little intellectual capacity that hasn’t been corrupted, by protecting it from further penetrating fissures. I don’t hold any concealed vendetta or a moralistic aversion to the proceedings, nor do I deliberately tarnish what appears to be a highly revered form of entertainment, but I simply nurture a considerable lack of empathy for regurgitated concepts, intent on reducing the general populace imagination for ingenuity, especially considering the abundance of talented on-line contributors ,without the collateral allurement afforded by television correspondence.
Besides all the negativity and menagerie of episodic comas, as well as putting aside my internal antagonism, there is a surprising, beneficial ramifications from regular television frugality. Its seems like a selfish request to depart from the vicinity of your partner in favour of the blissful accordance of your console, that cordially entices you like a burlesque dancer, with her alluring trappings and exotic persuasions. And though my girlfriend isn’t the least bit inclined to subvert my gaming aspirations with embittered resentment, nor does she associate with games in the similar, cathartic enthusiasm that my years of potentially excessive perspiration, have bestowed. But programmes that I perceive as derivative and repetitive, seem to enrich my girlfriends jovial persuasions, which as a consequence allows each of us the desired time–without the restrictive approximation of ourselves–to hinder the credible enjoyment you can have from being separated from one another, admitting the fabled hospitality of seclusion from each others presence. There’s a mutual solidarity in our embellished desires for alternate separatism, that allows for not only further allotted virtual exploits for myself, but a harnessing of your relationship.
But I’ve averted further from the point of this meandering article, which appears to be a flippant revulsion to the industry as an entity. The fact remains that I would rather preserve my resources parrying the advances of devilish abominations in God of War, or pirouetting gracefully with deadly, interspersed reprisals to any foe that attempts further blasphemous advancements upon my person in DMC, rather than observing a distressed individual, divulging bereaved sentiments of how they were inspired to belch vocalised diarrhoea to the nation–for “entertainment purposes”–after the tragic demise of their mother, due to the shock of witnessing her fateful dog being used as an inadvertent ramp for a fire engine, that was attempting to extinguish the flames that had enveloped their family home which is now a smouldering carcass. Perhaps I’m being slightly too remiss in conclusions and blatant supposition, but the only alternative to my futile ramblings, is that television is more emotive and absorbing than any game could ever be. Hmm? Interesting theory, but let me counter that argument with this one, retaliative gesture……*Powers up PlayStation*
Do you seek solace in the company of your games whilst others watch TV? Or can you majestically incorporate both? Let me know your thoughts on this almost irrelevant subject matter. Cheers.