Welcome to the twenty-sixth installment of the EVE Blog Banter, the monthly EVE Online blogging extravaganza created by CrazyKinux. The EVE Blog Banter involves an enthusiastic group of gaming bloggers, a common topic within the realm of EVE Online, and a week or so to post articles pertaining to the said topic. The resulting articles can either be short or quite extensive, either funny or dead serious, but are always a great fun to read! Any questions about the EVE Blog Banter should be directed to firstname.lastname@example.org. Check for other EVE Blog Banter articles at the bottom of this post!
This month’s topic was proposed by @KatiaSae of the much praised “To Boldly Go” blog. Katia asks: “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. As an astrophotographer, I’ve found it in the stars and planets of New Eden. Where have you found it? Perhaps you’ve found beauty in the ships we fly? Maybe it’s the sight of profits being added to your bottom line? Or maybe it’s the pilot portraits you see in the comm channels? Where ever you’ve found it, write about it and post an image.” Don’t be afraid go beyond the simple visual aspects of EVE as well. Is the EVE Community in itself a thing of beauty? What makes EVE the game, the world, the Community, so appealing to you?
It is said “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” To me, that’s just a piss poor rationalization to explain away some neurotic fool’s outlook towards our bleak universe. No offense.
An elderly couple holding hands as they walk along the promenade without a care in the world; a group of friends sharing conversation and drinks over dinner; a local star slowly crawling over the horizon of a planet with your ship aligned to enjoy this unique sunrise; glorious and mysterious nebulae, twisting and folding in and out on themselves, casting light and colour across the blackness of space; the sleek lines of a Firetail; the satisfaction of conquering a sweet piece of ass; the list could go on ad nauseum, but what’s the point?
It’s all bunk; a naive and idealistic point of view. It reveals immaturity, a lack of understanding of what truly drives our societies forward. Governments are reactive, never proactive. Things start to go wrong, a blind eye is cast until it reaches a boiling point where it can no longer be ignored; then, and only then, is swift and decisive action taken, and often the act of rebalancing swings things too far in the opposite direction until it all starts to go wrong again and the cycle is repeated ad infinitum.
I took another sip from my scotch and scowled. This universe doesn’t cater to the weak.
The elderly couple? So caught up in their ignorant bliss, they failed to see the young gangbanger marking them, following them until that moment when he could earn some reputation for himself amongst his peers by looting the couple. If they put up a struggle, they would die. Not much beauty in death.
The group of friends? They were so self-absorbed in their own fun that they didn’t realize just how loud and obnoxious they were, deterring from those around them at the restaurant also trying to find a moment of “beauty”. This universe is about taking for yourself and screwing those around you.
That pilot enjoying the sunrise over a planet? That moment of distraction, that single breath enjoyed at the awesomeness of the event was enough to sign his death warrant as an Interceptor locked on and snared the unsuspecting ship with a web. To the pirate captain, that was beauty. Another ransom; another kill.
The Republic Fleet Firetail was one of the most beautiful ships the Minmatar could boast, and yet for all its appearances, it lacked substance and punch. Few pilots flew them anymore since Concord changed their specifications. It didn’t surprise me really; governments swinging the pendulum of balance once again and ruining what was good in the name of making things better. The poor Firetail had become like so many other things of “beauty”; shallow, sexy appearance with no heart, no soul.
And women … it used to be that scoring a nice, young hottie was enough to give a man a sense of accomplishment, but wake up once with your id and bank account information gone, and you realize you were a foolish old man that got played.
I felt the scotch on my lips. I could smell its sweet aroma wafting into my nostrils as I finish drinking, the ice cubes clinking together as I set the glass down on the bar.
There is no beauty in this universe, only moments of ignorance.
I paid my bill with money I borrowed from a corp mate, hoping the Republic Security Service had succeeded in tracking down the bitch that stole from me.
I walked over to the rowdy group of twenty somethings and told them to shut the hell up, to think of someone other than themselves for once. It’ was a damned public restaurant. If they wanted to carry on like imbeciles, at least do it in private where nobody had to suffer through their blatant stupidity.
I glanced out the space side viewport and saw in the distance the telltale signs of ship battle; it would be the last sunrise that pilot every enjoyed.
I turned away from the viewport and forced myself to stop listening to the news on the vidscreen; the Republic still apologizing for the riot that resulted in several Starkmanir religious leaders being killed. Now Shakor had personally promised his full attention to the situation. Translation? Things would get worse than need be for the opposing point of view. There would never be any balance.
I sighed deeply as I left the restaurant and walked along the promenade in the direction of the elderly couple. They were so completely lost in each other’s company that they didn’t even realize they had turned down a dark and deserted alley way. The young hooligan was new; he had already pulled out his blade. He was too anxious, too green.
I turned down the alley after them, realizing the only beauty I could think of at that moment was my boot lodged up this punk kid’s ass. The thought caused me to grin like an idiot as I felt the adrenaline start to surge.
The couple was in shock, filled with terror, the man having been knocked to the ground, the woman crouched by his side, holding him. They both stared directly at me. The young thug turned to see what they were looking at, and seeing me, nearly dropped his knife.
His expression changed to open mouthed fear, and I smiled as I watched the front of his pants darken with his own urine.
Maybe there was beauty in this universe after all.
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