The Secret Life of IGN

We track the elusive editor creatures in their native habitat.

One of the rarest and most endangered creatures in the world is the Editorius Gameus Onlineus, commonly known as the editor creature. This species has nearly been driven extinct by a shrinking Internet economy and a shortage of good games. Few outsiders have ever seen these strange and mysterious creatures in their native environment -- it is far more common for the world at large to interact with them through strange, cryptic e-mails, bizarre message board posts, and the occasional new game review posted online.

But what are IGN editor creatures actually like in their native environment? Concerned researchers, who wish to study this little-known species before it completely vanishes, have set up several hidden wildlife observation posts to covertly observe these creatures in their native environment. So far we've been pleased with the results, and the hidden cameras have given us some insight into the lives of these creatures.

An elusive Cassiminus Oversleepus, caught on film by a Wildlife Observation Post.

But as any good biologist knows, observation of the species through remote control only tells part of the story. To really understand the behavior of these mysterious animals, it's necessary for a researcher to spend time with the gentle beasts and become accepted into their social units. This is what I set out to do.

First I had to infiltrate their native environment without arousing suspicion or causing alarm. This was easily accomplished -- I set my alarm for 8:00 AM and arrived at the office at 9:00 AM. At this time, no editor creatures are even awake, and very few arrive before ten. Those who do are usually so groggy and incoherent without their soda or coffee that they stumble right past me, muttering and yawning.

I was in.

The wild landscape of IGN is silent and deserted early in the morning.

Next, I had to make sure I blended in with the rest of the community. For that, I'd need a disguise, but fortunately, editor creatures are similar in size and build to a normal human being, so a few garments could complete the transformation.

Most editor creatures wear faded blue jeans, often stained with food, grease, or other unidentifiable substances, so I put on some Levis and opened some Cheetos, smearing my pants with the orange gunk. Next, I found one of the numerous free gaming t-shirts scattered around the environment and slipped it on. My disguise was complete.

Free game t-shirts litter the premises, so disguising myself as an editor creature is a simple task.

Most editor creatures have pretty poor eyesight anyway, caused by years and years of staring at television and computer screens. None of them noticed the stranger in their midst.

Next I began to study my environment. As you can see, much of the IGN wilderness is a wasteland of cubicles, lighting fixtures, and truly ugly carpeting down up in a whirl. But this native ground has been thoroughly marked by the presence of the editor creatures. Everywhere were signs of their presence -- piles of discarded game boxes, heaps of broken game controllers, and scores of discarded t-shirts dotted the landscape.

Some editor creatures are neater than others. Here we see how the PC creatures have bagged all their games and stored them away in this cabinet, much as a squirrel will store nuts in the winter.

Every day, each editor creature spends a good deal of time rooting through its stack of books, papers, CDs, and other rubbish it heaps about its desk. Often this is the most activity an editor creature will exhibit for an entire morning: a search for vital game discs or other nutrients which it needs to sustain itself through the long day.

Here we see a typical editor in creature action. This time it's a Spencius Dookieus posting on a message board.

But most of the creatures' time is spent slouched in a chair, staring at a monitor screen. The editor creature will stare at these screens for hours on end, apparently hypnotized and fascinated by the bright lights and moving images they see. Sometimes however they will move their fingers or twitch in response to the screen, and occasionally they will signal their fellows with a great bellow to come over and look at something particularly unusual that has appeared on their screen. But most of the time, it is a slouch and a blank stare, a very eerie scene.

Everywhere were signs of their presence -- piles of discarded game boxes, heaps of broken game controllers, and the scores of discarded t-shirts dotted the landscape.

After several hours of merely observing the editor creatures and their curious immobility, I decided to try to engage some of them in social interaction. I carefully made my way into the demo room, a shadowy cave where loud sounds of gaming were coming from. On the screen was a vivid display of shooting and exploding, while in the chair sat a very active and excited participant. I tapped this creature on its shoulder and hooted and growled at it, a typical IGN method of introduction.

Imagine my surprise when the chair turned around and I found myself face to face with not an editor creature but a mascot, in this case, the famous and edible Pickle Boy.

Besides editor creatures, the IGN environment is also shared by the dreaded Sillius Mascot.

"Whoo hoo!" yelled Mr. Pickle, "I am the best Wolfenstein player in the office! Would you like to challenge my greatness?"

"That's quite all right," I told the strangely animated, living thing. It is quite common for IGN editor creatures to establish their dominance by playing these odd, electronic games. However I was in no way ready to challenge the Pickle Boy's mastery of his computer game, and besides, I felt oddly hungry too. I did not want to become too friendly with the Pickle Boy either, less I grow too attached to him. I didn't want to be emotionally saddened when the Pickle Boy was eventually seized and devoured by an editor creature, as would inevitably some day be the case.

Soon I spotted what looked like another editor creature seated before a computer monitor. Carefully I approached, and noticed some pertinent details. This editor creature seemed too strong and powerful to be a native of IGN, and its bare chest and powerful muscles seemed completely out of place. Still, I cautiously approached it and tried to engage it in conversation.

At first glance, you might think this was a hardworking editor creature, but is in fact a cardboard decoy, meant to occupy you long enough until you wander away.

Soon I realized my mistake. This was no editor creature, but a cardboard cutout, just one of many set up around the IGN wilderness. These cardboard cutouts are placed near the periphery of the IGN area, and serve as distractions and decoys to those who would attempt to enter IGN and engage the inhabitants in conversation. Since editor creatures rarely respond to other peoples' conversations, it can be difficult to tell the difference between a cardboard cutout and the genuine thing.

Often I have seen an accountant or a public relations person spending five or ten minutes talking to one of the cardboard cutouts, while the editors are left in peace. The accountant or PR person usually goes away after a while, none the wiser, and the editors quietly celebrate.

This decoy looks much more like an editor creature, but it too is a cutout, designed to fool the unwary.

Having been fooled once, I was determined not to be fooled again, and so I made my way towards where I was sure a real, live editor creature would likely be -- the well-traveled corridor between the demo room and the mail room, where new games magically appear. It was there that I encountered my first editor creature of the day who was not hypnotically slumped before a glowing screen.

An actual, authentic, editor creature! But what is the meaning of the GameCube?

It was a great sighting too, an extremely rare example of the Editorious Playstationus, one of the most elusive creatures in the entire IGN wilderness. But what was that it held clutched in its hands? Clearly that was a Nintendo GameCube it was holding! A Nintendo GameCube belonging to the Playstationus' bitter rivals, the Nintendoites!

What treachery was afoot? What mischief was being done? Quickly I moved in with my camera and note pads and began to investigate¿