My Narcissistic Descent Through Minecraft
This is what happens when a god becomes a beast.
Minecraft does interesting things to people; sometimes it brings out our inner-creativity, and some-times it brings out unforgiveable actions that would shame a Kardashian. I’ve done some amazing and creative things in Minecraft, but I’ve also sunk to depths I never thought possible. This is the story of what I thought was a simple and sweet endeavor that ended with a sinister and morbid outcome. Minecraft transformed me from a man into a beast in the pixelated world in which I was god.
I really don’t see the need to bore you with the beginning of my story since that would be more mind-numbing than predictable fortune cookies, so I’ll start from the middle where my transformation really began.
Everything was going well in the Minecraft town of Chris-City. My crops were growing tall, my cattle were penned in, and the city I had built was flourishing with my newest creations and ideas. Everything I had done was splendid, but it wasn’t right. Good is good, but perfection is always better. Let’s face the facts here, any town with the name Chris in it deserves perfection, and that belief started me into a downward spiral faster than pass from Tebow.
What kind of place would be named after someone who doesn’t have their own statue in the center of town? This was a question that lingered for a split second in my mind before I decided to erect the biggest statue possible of myself. But this decision was a poorly made one, for the game didn’t offer the correct shade of blue that matched my kick-ass eyes (they’re blue like the sky of the heavens, thank you very much), so I had to settle on a recreation of Steve, my character.
It made sense in the end, but it would’ve been better if it were a statue of me. Steve and I are one though, so I established a bitter compromise by using a model of Steve in his underwear. It’s how I would like to be remembered anyway, since I’m a sexy beast.
The problem with building such an immense statue was not being able to see it clearly from my home in Chris-City, so I immediately began construction of the Tower of Chris. No normal material would do for this special project, so I made the entire Tower of Chris out of gold and diamonds just so I could pay a little more homage to my wonderful self, of course.
Once I had the base and foundation laid out, I immediately embarked on the creation of my tower. In my head, I imagined it being so high that the sky would be able to kiss my tower’s ass with a high rolling fog. In reality, I could only build it as high as my statue which led to my next problem: the Tower of Chris was the same size as my Chris-statue and I just can’t have that.
After brutally and savagely deconstructing and reconstructing my pimpin’ effigy, all was fine. I had a new and shorter statue of myself (well, Steve) and a golden tower that oversaw my entire village. I was the king of kings, and also a god with no one to rule except my disobedient cattle and chickens. With some quick and infallible thinking, I invited my lovely wife into my domain with the promise of land to use at her own disposal, all for the slight fee of being my personal slave in Chris-City.
So there I was, in the tower made for a god, overlooking everything I had made. My town, my village, my statue, and I watched as my subject (wife) worked tirelessly to build something of her own on the piece of land I had gratuitously given to her.
She built a small shed, it was fine.
She built a decently sized house with lovely windows and a grandiose door, it was good, I suppose...
She asked for more land, and it was granted. She then built an oasis, which was something I had never given to my town. “What is this I thought” as she created something unique and beautiful. Is she disobeying her god?
I scrambled. In a panic, I grabbed everything I needed to squash this heretic who wouldn’t obey the rules and dared to show genuine creativity in the face of their god. After all, what kind of kingdom doesn’t have rules, even though they may be unwritten and undocumented? My justice was swifter than a Kenyan, and more vicious than a pack of hungry raptors stumbling upon a Big Mac. With a flick of the left trigger, I had engulfed her home in a blanket of lava and I turned her oasis into a tower of flaming goo.
As she left the game and stomped away, I had a smile on my face knowing that I could build a bigger and better oasis. No one shows up a god.