The month of April flitted away with my illness; enfeebled I was by a ridiculously resilient bug. It edged in, nefariously, simulating minor sniffles, proceeded hastily into infection, and triumphed at end with a pounding round of super tree pollen allergies. I am not whining, just stating the unembellished truth. I accomplished almost nothing, taking an unusual aversion to books and movies. Computer games, on the other hand, filled my days and weeks, a mind weakened me.
Gin Rummy online became the sole vehicle to combat inertia. I sat before my large computer screen and played, sometimes ten hours a day. Food and potty breaks were mandatory, but an inconvenience. Soon the robots I played revealed their subtle personality traits. I perceived slight differences in the styles of play between one robot and another. One was more aggressive, one a bit stupid, another shrewd. Even the animated cards themselves amused me. The 6 and 7 of clubs, when paired, looked remarkably like a pair of flirtatious Argentinean tango dancers. Cute minis and tokens kept things pleasant but there was a strange dark undercurrent.
The robots, I believe, were not robots at all. Looking to outsource jobs, the Game Center had deployed a good number of the political prisoners in Guantanamo to play with their paying members. Our government was glad that terrorists could be kept occupied and that a US company could prosper at their cost. The prisoners themselves hated us, infidel gamers, but they HAD to play, and were punished if they did not lose. Sometimes when I won I felt I was being patronized. If a prisoner rebelled and won the game, there was hell to pay with the guards. Despite that they figured it was worth it to prove their superiority. And, in the end, as I despise losing, I knew they despised losing, and I began to despise winning.
I am up and better. May is here.
Liese Ricketts and her foolishness 