-or- a pyromaniac's confession
I don't really consider myself a gamer anymore. It is a stage of my life I am just not actively engaged in anymore. But I still play games from time to time, and still enjoy them.
Especially when feel wound up.
There is just something cathartic about blowing stuff up. I have always been fascinated with explosions, fire and other forms of destruction and mechanical mayhem. Life and circumstances now dictate I don't blow up quite as much stuff as I used to. But virtual destruction is still a viable release. Fire up UT2004 and play some Onslaught. Get behind the turret of a tank and just start blasting things. Good times. Invoking the meteor storm god power from Age of Mythology is just too satisfying. Nukes in the Command and Conquer games? Love 'em. The bigger the boom the better.
This obsession goes back many years. I have vivid memories of getting into stashes of M80, bottle rockets, and firecrackers and playing around with them. Remove the lead from a bullet, extract the gunpowder, put it in some gum and you have a nice little boomer.
The highlight of my destructive experience was, interestingly enough, in school. AP Physics in high school, both junior and senior years, involved many, many explosions. How better to teach physics than with fire, right? Our teacher had tanks of oxygen and hydrogen. We would mix them in balloons and fire flaming projectiles at them. Most impressive. We blew out windows, knocked down ceiling tiles, shattered a glass aquarium, and just generally had a good time.
But life hasn't provided me with a continued outlet for these destructive tendencies. So when they grab me I game a bit. Better than looking for other things to blow up I suppose.