We here at the SLN Videogame Depot welcome back correspondent Jax Hamleg, who has returned from extended medical leave as a broken yet very opinionated man. Take it away, Jax.
Look me in the eye and tell me something, motherfucker. How many loot boxes have you purchased? With real money. Real dollars that could’ve put food on your family’s fucking table. You make me fucking sick.
Ironically, it was in being sick that my spiral into gaming and despair began. Sick with a case of legs torn off by hurricane force winds and a penchant for buckling my belt four or five notches tighter than was necessary. Sick with a case of hubris. Without my legs or my work but with a steady paycheck and benefits package, I wasted away into a horrid little gremlin, spending hours playing terrible videogames on my overpriced Razer laptop (replete with rainbow light-up keys) and my durable but off-brand android smartphone.
I have seen things that would make a normal person laugh awkwardly and find an excuse to leave. Things that would send a chill down your spine if I also explained the very esoteric and technical context surrounding them. I will never again be able to look in the mirror and see a man. I only see something so disgusting it shakes my belief in a loving God. I see a gamer.
Before my Kafka-esque transformation I used to travel to interesting places with a talented and brave cameraman, and I too was brave, because I delivered the news live, as it happened. What do I deliver now? Advice. Advice that comes from a place of deep suffering, in the hope that I can save you from the hell I have made for myself. Advice on which videogame loot boxes offer the best value.