Brooke Writes Books... and Other Musings...

Well, not exactly. More like a computer game addict is probably closer to the truth.

Okay, let me back-track just a bit here. Yahoo Games put up this new one about a week and a half ago called Fish Tycoon. You start out getting $300, some fish eggs, free fish food, and two tanks. The object of the game (which is real-time by the way...) is to grow the fishys to adulthood, breed them to make more fishys, and then sell them. Sounds pretty simple...and pretty safe...

But oh, it SO is not.

You have to feed these fish. Cure them of diseases called "ick" and "fungus" (okay...real fish get these things, too...but I don't have "real" fish...I now have "fake" fish). They have babies (after I make them go kissy-kissy in the isolation tank). They get sick for no apparent reason. Oh, did I mention you have to feed them? A lot! Or they die! And that is very sad cuz then you have to put them in the trash can.

It is a very obsessive thing. You can't leave the tank longer than eight-ten hours or else disaster strikes...and every last fish has croaked. Even if the plan is to sell the suckers as soon as they mature, they are still my babies! I don't want any of my babies to crump. I want them to go to nice homes with nice fish-parents who will continue to take most excellent care of them.

I personally believe it is the melodic music that plays every few minutes for the addictive nature of this game. It sucks you in. Even when it becomes VERY annoying, it is there to remind you that you have responsibilities. Helpless fishys are waiting for you to feed them, force them into having sex for the purpose of bearing children (these guys are both male and female depending on the need...), medicate them, sell them to the lovely sound of the cash register ringin' up another sale.

Now...lest you begin to worry that I've gone over the edge, and you may have to stop reading this Blog for fear of not wanting to associate with a crazy person, I told two friends about it, and now they are as addicted as I. It is not our fault that we arise first thing in the morning and race to turn on the computer to feed fish...FAKE fish!... feel badly when a fish...a FAKE fish...goes belly up... begin to feel sorry that we are making 200 year old fish have more babies...

It is the draw of the "cha-ching" of the cash register that draws us...the glory of being a successful Fish Tycoon...or the pathetic possibility that this latest obsession brings new meaning to the phrase: gotta get a life!