Special Advertising Section
Do you remember your first game of tic-tac-toe? Or hangman? Or Candyland?
You felt a special little frisson, didn’t you? A tiny electric charge, a huge synapse that washed over your nubile, pre-teen body. Like a hip, downtown junkie, you were hooked before you knew it, and there was no turning back.
As you now know, games are more American than apple pie, more mind-boggling than Shonen Knife, more important to the fabric of our nation than the WWF or Tommy Hilfiger. They are the best and most consuming way to distract yourself from the meaninglessness of your pitiful little life until you accidentally step out in front of that cross-town bus and shuffle off the proverbial mortal coil.
Of course, some people need more distraction than others. Some people, weighed down by ruts and habits, throw themselves into games and other pastimes with a vengeance. We prey on them.
We’re Maxis.
We recently introduced our friend Richard to the wonderful world of The Sims. At first he was reticent, having recently overcome quasi-addiction to another game and completed an unusually large number of writing projects. He had hoped to revive his lagging journal and do some writing for himself, and perhaps entertain/irritate some passers-by in the process.
We caught him just in time.
The Sims, you see, is the ultimate experience for obsessive/compulsive personalities like Richard. Our insidious programmers have provided you, the gaming public, so many means of customizing the gaming environment–with houses, furniture, artwork, and hot leather daddies deployed at your discretion–folks like Richard can spend hours just futzing with the color of the carpet. Anyone who organizes their stationery collection on a regular basis is in for the ride of his life.
On behalf of everyone who worked on the creation of The Sims, we hope you’ll give The Sims a try. For breakfast, lunch, or an afternoon snack, there’s nothing like The Sims to get you through your day and render you oblivious to the dreadful state of the modern world. Stock up now–just in case a certain daddy’s-boy finds himself in the White House come fall. You’ll be glad you did…
sturtle [dot] com 