I interrupt this apparently-interminable series on pet battles to bring you the newest item upon which Kia’s Brain is reflecting, with all due respect and deference (and a thousand apologies) to the venerable Bard of Avon, who, were he alive today, would totally play a rogue.
Kia’s Brain: To daily, or not to daily, that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in Pandaria to suffer
The cleaves and ground stomps of outrageous Mogu,
Or to cry out in frustration of too many things to do
And then just not do them. To daily, to farm,
No more; and in defiance of Blizzard to end
The time-sink and the thousand horrible mobs
That dailies require: ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To kill, to slay;
To zerg, perchance to loot – aye, there’s the rub:
For without these dailies, what epics may come?
When we have tricked out our toons to the max,
And bored to tears – then we shall long
For new dailies; what long expansions
Can long bear the scorn of the leet players,
The elitist jerks, the min-maxer’s disdain,
The pangs of bored farmers, the altoholics
Who cry “NOT ANOTHER REP GRIND!”, and the raiders
That blew past the content in two days,
When the developers may their own honor win
Just by making Spirits of Harmony tradeable?
But the dread of endless dailies,
The abyss of dailies, from whose question marks
We flee with our Pandaren Step enchants,
Makes us gaze with longing at empty Valor Points
Which we cannot attain with raiding alone.
Thus conscious does make grumblers of us all,
And thus the desire to be tricked-out raiders
Pales in the light of obsessive pet battles,
And fishing for Spinefish Alphas and mogging,
And so we give the dailies the arrogance
Of our middle fingers.
Oh lord. What have I done??