Blizzard's Stance on Whining (EU Forums)

As usual, a moan-and-groan poster has put up a thread on the EU forums. However, an official CM over on the EU forums has made a most excellent reply. I literally almost laughed--imagine that!

Listen Here Noobs, courtesy World of Raids

Exploring the Exotic - Furbolg & Worgen!

Over the next few weeks, with a consistent Monday through Friday schedule, I will be able to spend more time doing things I enjoy such as writing blogs, reading stories, moderating the Wowhead forums, and playing the PS3 with my brother. Notice there's no World of Warcraft mentioned? My account expired yesterday after I got to spend some quality time with my level 35 warlock, Dimmesdale.

Last week I wrote another article for the Wowhead Blog in which I discussed the history and origins of the furbolg. It didn't get as many hits, but the feedback was good. You can check out that entry here. Be sure to leave a comment so I know what you think!

This week I'm going to continue with the trend on exotic races. Backed by popular demand, the worgen are the subject of this next read. The worgen are a mysterious, extra-dimensional race of beings which apparently serve only one purpose: ultimate carnal annihilation! Sounds like an awesome horror movie subject all on its own.

I'll drop a line here when I release that entry with news on next week's entry as well!

Vision of Reality

I used to think life was going to be a great, wonderful experience. It would be so great to be living out on my own—no school, no teachers, no parents. It would just be me, TV, music, and parties.

Then came real life. Paying hundreds of dollars on bills every month, driving a piece of crap truck, working 60+ hours a week, and not having high speed Internet or a camera cell phone because it's too expensive. Yeah, that's reality. Medical costs, insurance (health, dental, life, 401k/retirement deductions, social security, disability), a crap load of taxes so others can spend my hard-earned money, and purchasing gasoline which seems to keep rising (yet we're supposed to appreciate the fact they aren't gouging prices as bad as they were last year). Sounds like a lot of money going down the drain, right? That's because it is. That's life.

“I thought it would set me on an uncontrollable path which I could never change.”

I didn't go to college straight out of high school because I wasn't sure what I wanted to do. Universities were out of the question, but a small technical college for computers would have been great. I wasn't ready, though. I was struggling in high school because I didn't pay attention. I was really immature and I couldn't get a driver's license due to poor eyesight. I wish I had went to college straight out of high school. It doesn't matter what one majors in, having that piece of paper gets your foot in almost every door imaginable. I didn't know that picking a major or a college was just a small step. I thought it would set me on an uncontrollable path which I could never change.

So I got eye surgery and can see. But man, am I blind or what? A year later, I was recovered completely and I got my license on the, "Yeah, I got this!" Nope. I failed the first time, but I got it the second time (don't ever look forward while moving in reverse).

My family was in disrepair. I stayed at home and helped my great grandmother, my grandfather, and eventually my grandmother get through strokes, cancer, and old age. Yeah, that's reality. So I got a job after one moved out, the other moved on, and one died. Six months later I ignored pleas to get health insurance privately because I wanted my company insurance and nothing could happen to me. I didn't want to pay what would be my one and only bill, other than car insurance, every month. I was stingy, but also proud—and I fell. Click here to see pictures of that story.

“I was . . . proud—and I fell.”

So I spent another year recovering from my disillusioned reality. Bedridden for seven months, I read a lot of books, watched a lot of behind-the-scenes material on DVDs, and enjoyed a wonderful summer view out of my window, watching the tree leaves sway in the wind for hours until falling asleep again. Sleeping away time.

So then after a second year getting mentally prepared and going through physical therapy, I spent three months finding another job. With only six months real work experience, and though I was an excellent worker receiving commendations and references, only three people bothered to give me a chance. Two of them called me in for training the next day, and two of them called me the next morning to let me know they changed their minds. They retracted their offer after having shook hands with me. That's reality, too.

I said there were three. The third one changed my life. I got hired, took state-mandated training and this time I paid attention. I paid attention so intently I got a headache each day from reading, listening, writing.

Today I've been working almost one year, with lots of responsibility and doing things most other employees don't even have a clue about. My boss constantly tells me how my performance is excellent. Our client's management team consistently compliment me on how professional I am. I'm half the age of everyone else and have learned nearly everything in less than a year. This is my turn at life.

I was recently informed I'm getting a raise--a raise larger than anyone else I'm working with. I'm also being moved to a weekday schedule. Though I am responsible for keeping weekend shift held together, I have become so valuable I am needed on weekdays for company image. However, no one is indispensable. Even though that is true there's no reason not to be happy. In fact, I must now work even harder to earn that pay. So this is life before 30. Quite different from what I could have ever dreamed.

“INVENIAM VIAM AUT FACIAM.”

An Existential Relationship

An associate with another company came in today at work and asked about a former employee who worked evenings and weekends. He asked what had happened to my former coworker as he had not seen that person in quite a while. In truth, my coworker was fired (whether he quit or was terminated is a minor technicality, he was literally pushed out due to insubordination). I stated that he was no longer with us, though I suspected he was working somewhere else and had moved on. Honestly, I'm glad my former coworker is gone. Though he was sometimes good at looking after stuff, he was primarily lazy and didn't pay attention to procedure. Mostly he was just a deceitful slob who liked to run his mouth. He took no pride in his work nor himself.

But he had dreams

Or at least he spoke of them. He wanted to go back to school (he did attend for a little while in the past, but he took the free grant money the government gave him and used it to party each weekend until it ran out). He was once declined service at McDonald's on his credit card. It's a shame because those grants are given in hopes of people succeeding at life, but nothing became of it. He substituted a little and bragged on how he made $14 per hour doing that. He lives at home with his mother, debt collection agencies harassing him, and is somehow a step above others in his neighborhood.

Alas, this person doesn't roam in any circle I've ever known or related to. He comes from a low economic, trashy town. He's a step above crackhead, but on par with welfare-huggers and unemployment junkies. So in many cases, since I never see him and honestly doubt I ever will again, he is non-existent.

Is our existence reliant solely upon the perception of others?

If people do not think of you, see or hear from you, or generally know of you -- do you exist? Surely we exist as physical manifestations on this earth, but there is perception and virtuosity. I know my brother exists since I see his physical body nearly every day and speak with him regularly. Thus, I know he is both exists and is real.

On the other hand, my former coworker is out of my life. I'll never see him again and will most likely forget him over the years. To this extent, I know he has existed. I worked with him, watched him set up buffet on the counter, and listened to his cell phone babbling. However, for all theoretical purposes, he could be dead and I wouldn't even know it. So does he exist? Probably in a physical sense, but primarily, to me, in my psyche -- even though my perception of him is malignant, it still exists. It may sound cold, but 'tis true for all the same reasons you, the reader, have no idea whether or not I exist. You simply know someone wrote this, but who? Obviously a person, but could you ever say this substantiates my existence?