Unlocks With A Key Of The Imagination.
We all know this door.)
door, I hate you.
I hate the way you are resistant to knives, to guns, to sledgehammers,
to rocket-propelled grenades, to weapons that rewrite the
very laws of physics, to dark unearthly magic, to punches
that can knock a man’s head clean off.
I hate the way I could kick or smash you down in real life,
with this puny human body of mine. But I cannot in the grand,
escapist fantasy of a videogame.
I hate the way you are so often an easy shortcut for developers
unable or unwilling to devise more satisfying obstacles and
I hate the way you so often lead to nowhere, how you are
nothing more than decoration for a wall.
I hate the way I’m expected to give up trying to open
you when I see the words “this door has been locked
from the other side” or “this door opens elsewhere”,
as though they’re a command from God himself.
I hate the way you always make that click-click, or clunk
or uh-uh noise when I try to open you: the very sound of
I hate the way your key or switch is always so far away.
I hate the way the fate of the world so often hinges upon
I hate the way the letter ‘E’ has worn off my
keyboard because I’ve tried to open you so many times,
in so many games.
I hate the way you’ve added hundreds, perhaps thousands
of unnecessary extra hours to my lifetime of gaming.
I hate the way you’ve annoyed me so much that I’ve
just written 200 words whining pathetically about you.
If you didn’t exist, locked door, videogames as we
know them would be radically different.
Locked door, I hate you.