This may or may not be based on something that actually happened. It is.

Somebody, who will not be named, gets angry and throws controllers/remotes/etc. It's one of us, but isn't me. That's all I'll say about it.

I normally wouldn't even point the finger like that, but "Voldemort" (if you get that, thank you) was able to reconstruct a remote that had been blown into all of its pieces, effectively unlearning any sort of lesson, free to go about smashing whatever, seemingly without consequence. Well, fuck that, I say. Quit breaking shit, jerk. The internet is onto you.

And, look, it's not like I haven't done it. It's just been a good long while. Long enough that I can be uppity about it.

Meeting people is easy.


Let's start this off right; yes, I have, in the past, thrown objects during fits of gaming anger.

I'm not a violent person. I rarely even raise my voice to another human being, regardless of how filled with righteous anger I might be.

I think this is because I expect human beings to be imperfect, to let me down, and generally just be horrible to one another. What I seem to have a low tolerance for is machines failing to carry out their designed purpose, which is something I've mentioned before.

So, when I feel I'm being cheated by a machine, my first reaction is apparently to throw something at the wall.

In the case that inspired this comic, it was the remote control for the Bose surround system that I've had for about a decade. This thing has served me with loyalty and vigor and is deserving of my respect. It was an innocent bystander to me losing game 7 in the playoffs against the Senators in a manner I'm convinced was utter fucking bullshit.

I was able to repair the device, a fact I'm still somewhat amazed by. It was completely blown apart. Any thing that was connected to any other thing was very much not, and all of the pieces were scattered around the living room floor.

The next casualty was that very night, when Call of Duty's servers didn't see fit to give us just one or two more players on our team to even up the match (it was 4 vs. 6 in a game of Demolition, which made things particularly difficult). I was in a position to make a game-changing play, and it failed because I didn't reload before going into a room.

Now, in hindsight, that's blatantly an error on my part. But I was already pissed because of my persecution by the game's servers, forcing us to lose to people we would have beaten in a fair fight. So, when I failed, I didn't see it as my fault. It was the game's. And, for that, the headset that came with the new XBOX payed the ultimate price.

I know it's incredibly stupid to exact one's wrath on inanimate objects, because it's not the object's fault. It's either the fault of the user or the designer, both of whom are humans, and therefore should be expected to fail on occasion.

It doesn't feel good to throw money out the window (or, in my case, at the wall). It's not cathartic and it doesn't make you less likely to fuck up next time. It's just childish.

And that's why Paul will continue to make fun of me for it.

That sonuvabitch.