Those poor bastards.

 I’ve been playing online games ever since my cousin got me hooked on Quake. I vividly remember the very first time I interacted with another player in Quake, and no, it wasn’t at muzzle velocity.

My cousin Josh put me in a pickup CTF game with a few of his Clan members and some of their friends. Quake itself was still pretty young at that time, if memory serves, it was only out for about five months at that point., and full-on 3d graphics were really making themselves known upon the gamers of the time.

One thing that I’ll never forget was Josh telling me “Dude, you have to look at the flag” as he took over the keyboard and ran my character to see it. I have to say, it was impressive, the lighting effects, the ‘flow’ of it waving, ect. However, the truest sign of things to come happened at that exact moment. Not the flag, but the dude that was standing nearby, guarding the flag room.

“Who is that?” I had asked.

My cousin told me that it wasn’t a bot, it was a person. A -real- person. Right there, standing near the flag with a wicked looking rocket launcher. The thought hit me that at some other area of the country, someone had just watched me walk into the flag room, and was aware of my existence, without even being able to physically see me. So, at that point, instead of sallying forth to collect the enemy flag, or do a mid-field scrim, I sat in the flag room, and started chatting with the dude.

That moment really stuck with me, for all these years. I mean, sure, everyone had chat programs back then, ICQ, AIM, that Microsoft comic chat program, but this level of interaction with a netizen really struck me as rewarding, and I’m not sure why I felt that way, even now. In the years that followed, I made many friends online across many games, in many states and even other countries. In today’s era, that’s common-place. But in the days before those on the net booked-face or other such major social networks, it was uncommon.

Perhaps, given the whimsical nature of this memory, this is the reason I don’t understand the every-day abuse that those poor bastards we know as “CM’s” or “Blue posters” are subjected to. In my time and travels, I’ve met several of these people. Most of them have been very pleasant to converse with, and I dare-say that almost all of them had a soul. Even the online interaction I’ve had with  these representatives has been helpful, if not out-right professional.

Lately I’ve been following the development of Star Wars – The Old Republic, and in particular the tweets and posts of Steven Reid, alias Rockjaw, who is the Senior Community Manager for SW:TOR. One exchange really brought this subject to the forefront of my thoughts. One netizen stood out among the dross of several stupid or ignorant tweets, who goes by the name of “SoulstitchMMO.” After digging around through his posts, tweets, and blog, I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s a self-centered egomaniac and a all around cunt. The exchange was over several tweeted conversations, ultimately culminating in the statement from Soulstitch stating “..No surprise, it’s the same half assed work I have expected from your team.”

Now, being on the web as long as I have been, I’m used to seeing statements like this, but what made me smile and almost applaud was Steven Reid’s reply – “You have absolutely no idea of the work my team does on a daily basis.”

Delicious.

When did we start being such utter pricks to these people? The only thing I can come up with is that we feel that THEY are responsible for our woes, or that they could help you, but simply won’t.

Well, they are people, and people have limits. When those limits are reached, the results can be… well..

… enlightening.