It's been a while since I rapped at ya, dear reader, and I come to you now with an insight into my role here at GameSpot as a Data Producer. What with all the release dates, box shots, and ESRB ratings I handle on a day-to-day basis, you might think that this job is pretty sweet. Glamorous, even. True, it does have its perks, but beneath the whimsical blog posts and unfettered access to a massive game library there lurk more sinister elements. Duties that would make men rend their clothes, forsake their gods, and claw their very eyes from their sockets. I am currently chest-deep in one such tribulation, writing to you in a desperate attempt to hold onto myself as I slip away amongst the flames, the profanity, and the misspellings. The trial of which I speak has a name, and it is Metacritic Games Comment Moderation.
The task seems simple. Access a website that lays before me all the new comments since a given date. Sort through them and post the worthy ones, the ones that add insight and could possibly be of use to a Metacritic user like you or me. The task in itself is not particularly loathsome, when handled at regular intervals. However, when left untended, this labor grows like a foul weed, rapidly becoming unmanageable, suffocating even. As it swells to Herculean proportions my heart quails, for there are no mythical rivers for me to divert and cleanse this Augean morass. With my meager tools I assault the quagmire. Cutting and pasting. Pointing and clicking. Capitalizing and punctuating. Progress is slow, and my senses dull.
But lo! There are those who would help me in this labor. Bizarre imps emerge from the bog, with comments so outrageous, so profane, or so asinine that I take pause. Those foul-minded commenters whose posts plague so many message boards are an unexpected boon to me, jarring me out of my stupor and galvanizing my push onward with...
Their colorful analogies: "This is so boring it's worse than seeing a bad soap opera while watching a ulgy overweight person doing yoga in the nude." (Coded Arms)
Their blooper witticisms: "Bust-A-Move Bash! should sell a few copies... to Satan. It's the perfect game for the eternally damned."
Their non-native English: "Best online FPS ever. The head-shots are the maximum ecstasy of this game." (Counter Strike: Source)
Their farcical squabbles: "Yeah, seriously, it sux on every conceivable level. And 2 the guy that said it would sound gurgly if they talked in "real life", try telling that 2 the all-too-real mayor of Atlantis, who actually speaks fluent russian WHILE maintaining an underwater city's delicate economy! Zing!" (Aquaman: Battle for Atlantis)
Their misguided devotion: "leave shadow alone he has suffered on show and saw all his loved ones die if you hate the game then shut up and keep your opinions to yourself" (Shadow the Hedgehog)
Their irreverent vulgarity: "pokemon is like sex" (Pokemon Ruby)
The list goes on. Another day I shall bring you more tales of their impish ways, but for now, I must be Sisyphus again. Ever pushing, never gaining.