So Onlife has hit the big four-oh. Forty (for the most part) bi-weekly installments add up to, well, I don't know. Approximately a lot of days. I thought of doing some lame April Fool's prank, but I couldn't think of anything worth dedicating an entire column to. So I decided to do a complete 180, and approach this milestone installment of Onlife with a frightful level of earnestness. This week, we explore the nature of fun as it pertains to MMOs.

To an MMO player, fun is fleeting. Jumping into a new game is certainly fun. I personally attribute this to the learning experience; you're learning how to maneuver an avatar in an all new world whose rules might not be all that different from others you've visited before, but at the very least, they offer a new take. Learning your role is part of this exploration, and the very best games allow you to experiment early on without too much pain. The literal exploration is fun, too. Though you may not feel the same about a world after living in it for a year, encountering all the new landscapes for the first time is quite memorable and exciting. Learning how to mesh in a new world's social system is at times both amusing and frustrating, but the novelty of the experience is hard to deny. In my experience, these first few weeks in a good game offer the purest form of fun that MMOs are capable of offering.

Disney World is fun.

After all is said and done -- when you're well familiar with the lay of the land, the game's hardcoded rules, and the linguistic shorthand used by the playerbase -- how often does fun come into the equation? Well, to really think about this, we have to figure out what we mean by "fun." Is it a sense of elation one feels while in the process of surmounting challenging game content, or is the feeling of accomplishment gained after the fact? Does fun even have anything to do with game content as implemented by the designers, or has it more to do with the sorts of things that manifest themselves when thousands of people find themselves digitally inhabiting the same place? Or, perhaps the ugliest possibility: Are we tricking ourselves into having fun because we've become so habitual in our playing habits that we trick ourselves into thinking we're having fun when our characters acquire wealth and power?

There probably isn't a single answer. Players who are less invested in their games can probably derive elation and satisfaction from elements that hardcore gamers may view as trivial. Meanwhile, more socially-inclined players will likely place a higher value on interacting with their fellow inhabitants, while those more content-focused might view excessive interaction as an impediment to their goals. Personally, I know I've found myself getting a little bit annoyed by chatterboxes who, in my opinion, needlessly bog down the workings of otherwise efficient groups. In any case, I think we're ascribing too many MMO-centric attributes to our exploration of fun. Let's face it: games were fun before they were married with persistent worlds. In fact, they were probably more fun. Why is it that we make concessions for MMOs? And how can they be brought back "down to Earth" in these regards?