A Tale of Rage

Recently, I saw a thread where people were having a discussion about game rage. Not being a rager myself, I read over the text chuckling smugly at people's stories of how they broke various pieces of equipment, bones etc, safe in the knowledge that one such as myself would never get angry over something so trivial as a game. One such as myself, who has died a thousand deaths in Dark Souls and barely uttered a 'meh'. One such as myself, who has died a thousand deaths in Spelunky and merely shrugged, blaming my own lack of patience and skill. But that was then. That was not tonight. That was before Cave Story.

You know how it is. You find a new game, laugh at the lack of challenge involved and immediately crank the difficulty up to the highest level. You play with caution. You learn the mechanics. You take your time and before you know it you're leaping around the screen picking enemies off with finesse. Sure, you'll die a few a times when meeting bosses for the first time, but after a few attempts, you learn their patterns and take them out. But every now and then, you'll meet that one boss. You learn their tells, you figure out which weapon to use but still you can't beat them. You know that they're not the toughest boss in the game, hell, you've already fought tougher but try as you might, you just can't beat this boss.

It starts slowly. A long sigh, to let the game know you're getting a tad tired of it's shit. Maybe a bad word or two to let it know you'll go Sephiroth on it's ass if you need to. You feint throwing the controller. Of course you would never actually throw it, because it's just a game right? It's around this point that ordinarily I would take a break. Step away from the computer. Come back later and kill the boss in double quick time. But that was then. That was not tonight. That was before Cave Story. This time I did not say 'meh'. This time I did not blame myself. This time I committed the ultimate pussy move that I laugh at other gamers for doing. This time, I blamed the game.

I did not recognize that I was playing badly and convinced myself to have just one more go. And then another, and another. I told myself that this poorly designed, glitchy boss fight would soon end. But it didn't end. It didn't end because the real boss was winning. The real boss was not the one on screen, but was boiling within me. The real boss was my rage.

Blinded by red mist, I threw a straight right hand at the table upon which my startled laptop perched. Like a great tree falling, the table leaned with a creak. Cups and pens leapt off in a desperate attempt to save themselves. Cables and wires twisted in panic. Peripherals slid from their stations into the great nothing, and in a final crash, the table and laptop hit the floor. And then all was quiet.

I looked at the peeled skin on my knuckles, and the reality of what I had done hit me. I raised my arms to the gaming gods and screamed out to them. "What have I become?!", I cried. But the gods did not answer. They left me in cold silence to judge my own actions. To ponder the enormity of the sin I had committed. My attention then turned to the damage I had caused.

Slowly, and with a grave sense of doom I looked over to the fallen table, its legs pointed towards me. I knew I had to see what lay on the other side and face what I had done. I took a deep breath, and with great fear and hesitance, peered over the table edge.

To my great surprise and relief, the laptop lay among a scattering of objects and spilled coffee, completely unharmed. Not even a scratch or mark had been taken in the fall. I raised my head skyward, and thanked the gods quietly. I had learned a valuable lesson. A lesson many man and woman have learned before me. A commandment passed down through the ages from gamer to gamer. A commandment that has been heard at every internet cafe and LAN party since time immemorial: Thou shalt not rage.

In grateful silence, I reached down to pick up the laptop. There on the screen were the words 'Try Again?'. "Not today, Toroko" I said. "Try again I shall, but not today".

 

My new "tick" happens to be slapping my hand on my desk. It's less embarrassing than my old tick. I used to throw myself on my bed and kick my legs, but I am forever blaming the games. #GGunfinishedgame ;_;

Lol, you're old tick's hilarious. That sounds like a proper tantrum.

my rage never occurs occasionally until i get to a certian point in a game and then gravity kicks in and kills me, my rage is throwing myself into a painful wall

I have to say that was well written and I did enjoy the story. Kudos.

 

As for rage I know when I'm starting to get mad and I pull myself away. Generally it's not the game but day I had before the game and nothing wants to work with me. Generally on those days I just leave games alone, for the sake of my wallet and my hardware.

One of us!

One of us!

One of us!

Like it or not, Samiad. Like it or not.

I only rage once in a while, because I happen to be good at most games I play; and I can accept when I am not, usually. I expect to be beaten on beat-em-up games, because I never fucking play them.

Occasionally, the old tick comes back to haunt, despite my age. I regret to think if people hear me over my headset when I am sobbing like a child. "It's not fair! IT'S NOT FAIR!" Little do they know that I would kill them if I saw them in person, and it'd be br000tal!

I definitely posted in the previous rage thread. A story of smashing my Tekken disc when I took it out my PS1. Hm, guess that's why I don't play beat-em-ups.

My "rage" usually never amounts to anything more than muttering a few curses, a rare cry of frustration or maybe I'll reposition myself in a disgruntled manner. Never thrown a controller, screamed at the screen or anything outlandish.  Most of the time I'll just stop and go watch a show, get a snack and leave the game for another day.

I can't afford to rage like some people I know.