Today Clash of Clans developer Supercell soft-launched Clash Royale, a competitive multiplayer defense game in which the goal is to spend as much money as possible on virtual cards. At least that’s the vibe I’m getting.
We can hone our bodies and minds until they’re razor sharp—perfect tools of fistic destruction—but in the end we all fall to the same foe: mobile game microtransactions.
A baseball season is long enough that any successful team will invariably slump, break out of it, and with hindsight be able to point to the year's largely symbolic turning point. For the Royals' narrative, that turning point was the clubhouse valiantly overcoming its crippling addiction to mobile gaming.
Clash of Clans is one of the most successful video games of all time. So, as you can probably guess, it has clones. Lots of clones.
"I hate my job," George Yao told The New York Times. After moving across the country to a tiny apartment, to a city where he had no friends, he found an outlet in Clash of Clans. Then Yao found himself standing in the shower with five iPads—individually bagged—struggling to preserve his No. 1 ranking in the game.
By now, most adults are used to the idea that the software and services they use—including video games—record what they do to send feedback to the companies that make them. But when some third-graders found out that games they love have some kind of data-mining, it was a heartbreaking combination of funny and sad.