It's Oblivion time, folks. No, not March 20—Oblivion's original release date. No, not one of those weekends where I wake up and stare at the ceiling for three hours, either. It's finally time for the much-anticipated and maddening The Elder Scrolls 4: Oblivion Remaster, which was leaked and rumoured for so long that it was starting to .
But who cares? Well, me. I care. I was literally liveblogging about the remaster's release yesterday. But I shouldn't. Because I don't really need Oblivion Remastered. What I need is Boblivion, a project I struggle to translate into words and yet translate into powerful feelings unconsciously.
It's a dumb, throwaway gag that I have likely already dedicated more thought to than it strictly deserves, but here's some more thinking: I love this. Not because I think the joke is gut-bustingly hilarious, but because it's the kind of weird, baffling, meta outgrowth that comes when you leave a community to tinker with a game—right down to the fundamentals—for 19 years.
It's like a plant that's been left in one pot too long: mutated and strange and kind of wonderful. It's the kind of thing I'm excited to see develop around this new, shinier Oblivion. Which means it's also the kind of thing that will keep OG Oblivion relevant even with its jazzed-up successor on the scene.