Friday, August 26, 2011

It's the Magic: Phyrexian Jalapeno Paupers

For the past three months, I’ve been collecting Scars of Mirrodin cards without having the time to do more than draft them. They’ve been sitting in their little Scars of Mirrodin ghetto while I get the time to properly integrate them into the rest of my decks or consign them to the purgatory that is my boxes of unused cards.

I finally, had the chance to do so, creating a number of decks heavily based on themes that Scars of Mirrodin introduced (Metalcraft, Infect, Proliferate, Infect, Sacrifice, Infect). As I flipped through my piles of SoM commons time after time in search of more Pristine Talismans, Grim Afflictions, and Remember the Fallens, I passed other commons and dismissed them with little thought.

I think the root of all evil is laziness. Exclusion and hate are products of not making the effort to learn about other people's perceptions. Snap judgments benefit no one and even when I'm look at magic decks, I keep that in mind. The only card I’ve seen that didn’t deserve a second glance was Takeno’s Cavalry[1] and I’ve got to ask myself, could any card be that bad? Besides, if Mitt Romney can argue that companies are people, I can argue that Magic cards are too.

So, after passing these David Copperfield-esque paupers, I've slowed my car, stared at them, and considered their status as the result of a real person's labor and thought so that I might enumerate why they'll still be starving in the gutter while I and Porcelain Legionnaire will be eating pop tarts and drinking diet coke at my palatial estate.
Loves diet coke and pop tarts almost as much as I do, but he has first strike, so it's a wash.

Death-Hood Cobra is, that guy that seems okay, but who has real potential. Like, you could be pretty cool friends, or whatever, but if you just put in some time and effort, that guy can be a blast. But then, three months later you’re still putting in that time and effort and sure, it’s a blast, but it’s just so much work. At the end of the day, you’d rather just have someone to pal around with without having a nagging feeling in the back of your head that you could be having a really great time instead of a great time. If you could ignore that voice, this guy would be great.
This guy is great. Unlike Death-Hood Cobra guy, after you get him going, he’s a little slow to come around, but the work pays off. I don’t hang around him much because I’m just not prepared to put in that kind of effort on the slim chance that something might go wrong before all that work pays off. Somewhere, deep down inside, I know it’s worth it and I should totally just fucking reach out, but…no…no.

Artillerize is fine. He’s all “lets be awesome sometime and fuck shit up tonight,” and since fucking shit up is mostly fun and consequence free, you like that. Howevercomma, when the sun rises the next morning, you’re holding a bag of biomatter and dodging cops while trying to remember what happened to your shoes. Yes, Artillerize is Zack Galifianakis. If that’s where your life is right now, he’s great. If you’ve got a steady job, a spouse, and/or some kids and want to know that you won’t have to go looking for one after spending quality time with your buddy, Artillerize is not for you. Otherwise, get hung over.

While Artillerize guy is all about compatibility right now, Immolating Souleater is screwed forever in my eyes. Personally, when I see Immolating Souleater, I think, “man, that’d be great if I ever want to pay life to trade a creature,” or “how much life should I pay because my enemy didn't block?” I don't know because that's not how I play. Immolating Souleater is good. I know that, but just like sometimes good people can't get along, I will never, ever get along with Immolating Souleater.

Phyrexian Hulk is big and everything, and while I do sometimes underestimate just how important pure physical ability is, I can’t help but to compare it to Serra Angel, and Phyrexian Hulk always loses that match up. "It’s just a creature," I tell myself, "albeit a big one." I  can’t get past how plain and ordinary it is. I want something with some bite and with some dimension. The real tragedy is that Serra Angel isn’t in Scars of Mirrodin, but Phyrexian Hulk is. It’s no good for me to compare Phyrexian Hulk to something that’s not around, but here I am, passing up a fine opportunity because it falls short of an ideal.

As always, I'm at the top of my word limit. Until I learn how to edit these things down without sounding like Bizarro, you might have to become accustomed to two-parters.

[1] Well, maybe a second glance of incredulity.

No comments: