I recall the first time I ever laid eyes on Seaman, a weird, morphed man-fish in my television. He'd been born from the cult Sega Dreamcast game of the same name and, quite frankly, I was deeply disturbed.
Like most virtual pets, he needed to be fed and attended to and - most uniquely for consoles at that time - spoken with via a console microphone (chalk up another innovation for the console), and because I'm not the mother type I lost interest quite quickly. Despite his snide remarks and underwater flailing, he soon went belly up. The guilt haunts me to this day.
I thought he was gone, and all that remained was a distant memory. To my horror, I've recently discovered that he is alive and well, and blogging. He still has his biting wit and his sarcasm is intact, but mirroring my experiences of so many years ago, he has very little of worth to say.
Has instant karma come to get me?
In seriousness, official character blogs are a grand idea. Who wouldn't line up to read the first-person musings of a plumber antagonised by magic mushrooms, or the Indiana Jones-like experiences of a femme fatale? I'd love to know what the Prince thinks of Dad while he's forced, Sisyphus-like, to roll a big ball around the world. Their plights are action-packed with daily experiences that would make most weblogs' rants pale in comparison.
Not only could character blogs revitalise the MySpace-curse of sweet daily nothings, but they'd provide the depth of character many non-gamers crave.
