|
Home Decks Combos Articles Visual Spoilers Art Features Links Search Forum |
|
|
|
|
Editor's Note: Hi folks! We here at the Guild have been sitting on this editorial by Kozy for a while. Kozy offered this gem up a ways back and we are happy to finally publish it. Enjoy, and don't forget to jump into the forums and let him know what you think! ~Streetz~ Evolution: The natural process in which one organism turns into a greater form of itself. This process takes time. Over time, even humans see themselves advancing with increased average height, longer lifespan, and elevated immunity to disease. Even Magic evolves. There was once a time when people thought Black Lotus was a perfectly well rounded card, and that it was surely okay to make a land produce two different types of mana without any drawback. Obviously, Magic: The Gathering has evolved since then. This raises one very significant question, has the Magic player became an advanced human from the ape that it once was? I say no. In fact, it is just the opposite. Devolution.
Not to generalize, but there are certainly those who have achieved the Magic: The Gathering form of Nirvana, completely transcending to the ranks of Akroma and beyond the touch of Wrath of God, such as Luis Scott-Vargas, the player who created the Grapeshot-Elves deck, or Billy Moreno, with his Hulk-Flash deck, and of course not counting out 2006's boy wonder deck Dragonstorm and its creators (Pat Chapin, Gabriel Nassif, and Mark Herberholz). These people are innovators, individuals who have truly mastered every aspect of the game. Play skill, deck building, and of course luck.
This is when the player will completely change into an ugly leech, going around searching online for the next big deck list, the next big meal, that someone else created. But with the fiber of the magic players being reduced to nothing more than disgusting vermin scurrying about the floor, searching for every last bit of glory, no matter how minute or esoteric it may be, one can only wonder about the fiber of Magic, itself. Won't it devolve from the parasites sucking at it? Parasitism is the act of taking another person's deck and using it for yourself. This takes out a whole aspect of the game: building your deck. Well, just how important is building the deck? Does it take more skill to build a good deck than it does to play one? Well how about we ask Father Wizards? "Father Wizards, what's the most advanced part of the game?" [The following video was originally posted here.] "Oh. So it's deck building. Thanks Father Wizards!" So, allow me to use what we intelligent humans like to call syllogism. Deck Building takes skill (more advanced skill than knowing how to simply pilot decks). Parasitism isn't building decks. Therefore, parasitism takes no advanced skill beyond simple understanding. As was said in the video regarding theme decks, “These decks are made by the pros. So that basically you can crack these open, shuffle and play right away. You don't have to worry about building a collection, putting a deck together, or putting a strategy together.” Granted, theme decks are far less complicated than anything you'd find gracing the pro tour, but beyond that, what is the main, fundamental difference? A theme deck actually requires you to build something more advanced because you will be virtually incapable of winning outside of a casual environment. A net deck requires no further thought, nor time, nor skill. All you need to run a net deck is a basic idea of what is supposed to happen and you can crack it open, shuffle and play. After playing parasite after parasite online, I had to search my brain for any possible reason for these things to do what they do. They aren't winning a prize for beating people online with decks that they didn't build. I had to ask myself- what can these parasites possibly gain from net decking? Long hours of wandering through the depths of my mind led me to the answer. Then it hit me, parasites actually get pride out of what they are doing. They actually feel the need to, and do bring themselves up a few levels by doing something that anyone can go out and do. I don't understand it. I don't understand how even a parasite can so pathetically hide behind their pro tour player's drained-dry deck and declare themselves triumphant because of it. They put up their smokescreens like "n00b!" and "if you can't beat 'em.." and expect me to say "Oh. Wow, I never thought of it that way. I, who am experienced enough to design and run my own decks that win perfectly fine, am a noob in comparison to the Oh-Great-One who can't muster up the brain power to use a deck other than one he didn't design and knows will win at least 95% of the time." Then it hits me once more, the only reason that they can bring themselves up is because they win. Winning heavily implies skill. So no matter how they go about winning, whether it be the honorable way, designing and play testing your own deck (like they actually could do this, anyway), or using a deck that they saw via a “Top 8 Pro Tour decks Berlin” Google search, because they win, they can make themselves appear like a skillful individual. I have actually been duped a few times this way. I play a deck that I have never heard of, and get beaten rather badly. Then I say to myself, “Wow, this person is pretty skilled.” But then, terror strikes and woe to the parasites! I have been swindled, taken for a ride, bamboozled, and any other phrase of the sort! This was a net deck, and the parasite got exactly what he wanted: to appear skilled. This is one of the fundamental differences between the parasite and the player. A player desires to better himself, to be skillful, whereas a Parasite wants people to think that it is skillful. They desire only to be thought of as a great player. Of course, a player wants this too, but they want to have earned that spot. They want to have earned transcendence into greatness.
I have many times encountered a half-parasite, half-human hybrid. The hybrids are an interesting species. They continue practicing parasitism under the highly misguided belief that they are still being a player. Spotting a hybrid is as easy as listening to the things they say. “I don't have enough time to make a great deck,” “Not everyone can make a pro tour worthy deck” “I need to prepare for a tournament.” But what these hybrids don't realize is that the players that made the decks that they so lovingly stalk and use for their betterment did all of the things that they are avoiding doing by practicing parasitism. They designed a great deck. They tested the great deck. They edited the deck, and made the time to do so before a tournament. Parasites aren't nearly as good, nor as intelligent as the players that made the decks that they leech off of, but they play the same deck and act like it.
You can discuss this article in the MDV forums
here.
Articles
Spotlights from 2009: |
|
These
three decks, though demonstrably different, have one key similarity, they are
the victims of net decking. I have grown to call this term “Parasitism.” A
parasite is something that lives off of and otherwise benefits from another life
form. Yes, the achievements of already transcended players are being sucked dry
by the numerous rows of sharp agonizing teeth of the leeches that roam the
online world. There has been an infestation of these odious creatures. Creatures
who gain strength by using that which actual players have created, and
ultimately causing those players to suffer. These parasites will spread their
infectious disease across the world of talented players. Pretty soon, those who
aren't naturally immune to the disease will start to change. At first, it will
be the change that turns them to parasitism only to kill other parasites. They
will feel the need to fight fire with fire. The next phase in the disease is
where these players will try to rationalize with themselves, the same way a drug
addict would, telling themselves that swapping out a Disintegrate for a Blaze
makes what they are doing not parasitism. Only the end can come after this. 
The professional in everything started as a beginner.
Parasites are trying to change that. They are, knowingly or not, trying to
transform Magic into the game played by twelve year-olds who play Yu-Gi-Oh, not
by all the rules, because they like coming out the victor, and laughing at their
8-year old companion, who at least attempted to make their own design, because
of it. Parasites are trying to jump the gun to the professional level without
doing everything that professionals did to get there. Soon everyone will be an
immediate professional. And in a game where everyone is a professional, no one
is better. The game will be based solely on luck. That is, unless the players of
the online world do something about it. Resist net decking, resist the end of
Magic: The Gathering.