Last week, in the chaos around the total meltdown of Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning developer 38 Studios, one line stood out.
Last week’s rough launch of Diablo III neatly illustrated the biggest problem with the game’s ‘always-on’ internet requirement. It was a reminder that consumers have lost a portion of their ownership of the game, that we no longer have complete control even over whether or not our game will start.
I’ve been thinking of a way to explain to straight white men how life works for them, without invoking the dreaded word “privilege”, to which they react like vampires being fed a garlic tart at high noon. It’s not that the word “privilege” is incorrect, it’s that it’s not their word. When confronted with “privilege”, they fiddle with the word itself and haul out the dictionaries and find every possible way to talk about the word but not any of the things the word signifies.
Everyone has a Diablo story.Mine is pretty straightforward. When Diablo II came out in June of 2000, I plopped down on a computer chair in the attic and camped up there for months, ganging up with internet friends to defeat Mephisto over and over again in hopes that he’d drop something gold and that I could click fast enough to get it.
From the disappointment over The Elder Scrolls Online to the steep decline in subscriber numbers for Star Wars: Old Republic, one thing is becoming increasingly clear: the time of the traditional MMO is drawing to an end.
The announcement I’ve been waiting for ever since ZeniMax Online Studios was founded has finally arrived: there’s a massively multiplayer online Elder Scrolls game on the way. Now I can deliver my list of demands suggestions for making The Elder Scrolls Online the best MMO it can possibly be.