Mining Tragedy

Monkeyboy and I have pretty much lost the entire weekend to Minecraft, the primitive looking yet viciously addictive sandbox game.  It's simple enough - you're dropped into an uninhabited landscape with the aim of surviving.  You have to fashion tools, weapons, food and shelter... especially shelter, because when the sun goes down the monsters come out.

I reckon the key to it's success is tapping into our ancient survival instincts.  It also reveals your horrible personality defects - I can't delegate anything but the simplest of tasks and I'm doing it in Minecraft too.  Monkeyboy got quite fed up with me ordering him to collect wood/buckets of water, whilst I got annoyed with his untidiness.  Hordes of zombies hammering at the door every night unite us in the struggle to survive though.

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