Theme Week - Jormy Redux 1Formulaic
I read a lot of comments about my writing.
Most say it's funny. Some say it's not. Others try and show me how to order discount prescription drugs.
But out of all of those comments, the ones I find the most interesting are the ones that say my writing is formulaic.
Actually... Not all of my writing.
Just the Jormy stories.
Basically, they point out that all of my Jormy stories go the same way. I explain problem, present example of problem, witty comments are made, and... Feed them to a dragon.
Every single time. Problem, example, witty, dragon.
It's like mad libs for people with severe anger management issues.
Now, the reason I find these comments interesting (and not enraging) is that they act like being formulaic is a bad thing.
What the hell?
EVERYTHING is formulaic is you read/watch it enough.
Hey, that stupid Transformers movie is all about vehicles that turn into robots and all the fight scenes look like someone threw a cutlery drawer at the camera.
Hey, this is that episode of House where they try and cure the guy, fail, then House comes up with a brilliant solution with three minutes left to the show.
Hey, this is one of those Japanese turn-based RPGs with a complex, intelligent plot steeped in philosophy, but ultimately ruined by poor translation.
Oh, and the main character is an adolescent boy with both a weapon and a hairstyle that question the very laws of physics.
But don't you just love that shit?
You love it because it is formulaic. You love it because you liked it the first time and you know you'll like it the next time.
The guys at KFC don't decide to switch it up every now and then and sell some freaking hamburgers.
You go there for chicken. You expect chicken.
It'd be pretty stupid to show up one day and get all upset that they're still selling chicken.
I write Jormy stories that way because that's what I do.
I deal with morons.
I feed morons to Jormy.
That is, quite literally, my job.
I don't come down to where you work and slap the damned stapler out of your hand and suggest you should use some f&%@in' paperclips.
By the way... Your job makes me sad.
Jormy is the embodiment of my limitless anger, my unholy rage. Jormy is the not-even-plausibly large sword I use to strike down those people who irritate me.
Plus, it has to be damned embarassing to get eaten by a big, purple dragon.
Sure, I could just ban people with a few key presses. A nice little window would pop up and I could fill in some stock message or error code.
Golly gee, wouldn't that be swell?
Maybe after that, I could hop in my solar-powered car and drive to get myself a half-caf mocha latte.
I better slow down. I don't want to get too excited.
I feed people to Jormy because that's what they F&%@ING deserve. They deserve to have their very last moments in our Vana'diel be horrible and terrible and so very, very purple.
Yes, the incendiary devices cross a line, but still.
I don't use Jormy because I can't think of anything else to do.
I use Jormy because I can't think of anything I'd rather do.
The only thing that keeps me even relatively sane is the ever so familiar feeling of my Jormy macro buttons underneath my fingers.
Don't you wish you had a button like that at your job?
If you did, wouldn't you use it all the freaking time?
If you said no to that question, you are a liar.
Sure, the Jormy stories may very well be formulaic.
But that formula equals awesomeness.
Plus, I just giggle my ass off every time he eats someone.