I am convinced the children of the future will have 12 fingers.
I was looking at the controller
setup for the new Blizzard Starcraft game for consoles,
called Ghost, and I'll be damned if the game doesn't use every single
button on the controller.
I don't know how many of you have a modern console, but if you're
comfortable playing on one; you're probably blissfully unaware that
you're fueling some mutant gene deep in your DNA. This is the gene
that allows you to master all eighteen buttons on the controller
and still spout off a list of unearthly curses when some noob teammate
accidentally calls in an air strike on you. Every day you spend playing
games, every hour spend in the dark, fetally wrapped around that
ergonomic vibrating extension of your own body (not that one) makes
that gene grow ever more dominant.
The evolution is obvious. Let’s take Pac-man. He had a mouth
and eyes (well, according to the cabinet art he had eyes) but no
opposable digits. He didn't need fingers cause he didn't have to
jump or shoot. All he did was eat. Skip ahead a generation to the
Outlaw on Atari. One giant single-pixel fist. That's all he needed
to shoot his two-pixel gun. Sonic has three fingers, and we finally
evolve into four-finger games with the arrival of fighters by SNK
and Capcom. Remember the first time you saw Street Fighter II in
the arcades? Nobody could need that many buttons. Seriously.
One day, though, should the day ever come that young women will
have intercourse with us without undue coercion or exchange of funds;
we'll spawn our own little gamers. Miniature geeks with one glaringly
The dominant D-pad gene will have matured enough
to form the additionally fleshy stubs of the eleventh and twelfth
fingers. Our kids will be polydactyl (caw
caw! <- obscure Little Ceasars reference). Gloves will become
more expensive, button-fly jeans will be easier to fasten, and games
will have to evolve once again.
The only real constant in life is noob teammates that call in air
strikes on you.
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