They'll Never Understand

Nearly word-for-word, this is exactly how it happened. To this day I am uncertain as to what I heard in my friend’s voice that day, but I believe it was along the lines of unbridled terror. A primal fear that these feminine robots might actually have been sent back in time to end his life, thus preventing the rebellious underground from ever gaining root. More likely it was simply a misbegotten case of man-love envy. If the woman has begun to adapt so cunningly, undertaking endeavors such as gaming, they clearly seek to replace a man’s best friend in every possible respect. Afterall, when you come running, shirt ashambles, from the ravenous love-dens of female pleasure, there are a select few comforts you can rely on your Boys to fulfill. The utmost of these is manspeak, which is a thesis for an entirely different lecture, but only a close second comes gaming.

Nothing says “We’re guys and we mutually appreciate each other’s company in a very straight way” like talking about games. The only thing sweeter then spending 7 hours together setting up (not playing) a game of Warhammer is talking about how your friend forfeited a mere 5 minutes in because of a rogue vortex grenade swallowing his greater unclean demon into the twisting beyond never to return. It has not yet come to pass that groups of friends spend more time sharing deep discourse about gaming then is actually spent playing games, but the pie-chart of justice that would portray the percentages is becoming more fruity by the day.

The internet trend has evolved as such: There were the trend-setters, tredging like pioneers into the realm of the “Girl Gamer” with kneehigh boots and those poles with choke ropes on the ends. They were quickly burned at the stake for such heresey. Then the general masses caught on and a slew of testosterone-induced articles were written to the effect of “OMG Gurlz!” Lately, the trend has progressed to the actual girls, or self-righteously gay males, writing articles about how every previous article was completely sexist, idiotic, and devoid of any useful information. I say to you, all of this is but a diversion from the real problem at hand! Girls are playing games, and quite frankly, this just plain scares men.

Indeed in my own experiences I have been fortunate enough that her interests have served to avoid more unhealthy confrontations then they have caused, but the final count is not yet in. A whole new argument can be postulated: ‘Tis worse to have thine Girlfriend hate thee for playing yonder computer games, or to have thine Girlfriend fight with thineself over who gets to play on yonder computer? The answer to this may never be found, short of a thousand monkeys researching at a thousand computers for solid year, only to conclude that flinging poo is after all the greatest pastime to be remembered.

Back to the story at hand, my friend may have been on to something with his initial predictions. It turns out that she is not a robot in the traditional sense, but a kind of super-cybernetic organism. There is definitely a human in there, but through some sick use of quasi-science there have been unnatural parts of “Gamer” grafted onto the flesh, much like the Borg or even something like an older Anakin Skywalker, more machine now then woman. Piccard would profess that it would be better to shoot the person, saving them the pain and misery that is the life of such a tortured being, but I’m not so sure that any kind of modern weapons could harm her. They only make her angry (and I don’t like her when she’s angry). Or maybe I’ve got the whole thing wrong and she’s more like Six-Million Dollar Woman, who’s ability to aid humankind is only expanded by her augmentations. The true nature of this being I have not yet determined, but you may rest easy knowing that I am on the case.