This post has not been edited by the GamesBeat staff. Opinions by GamesBeat community writers do not necessarily reflect those of the staff.
A copy of Minecraft in the right person's hands is a truly frightening sight to behold. We've seen what amazing creations can spawn from hours upon hours of work and toil in its expansive 3D sandbox — what awe-inspiring creations can be formed out of very simple geometry and shaped to resemble anything you can think of. It's an armchair architect's greatest tool, which (in my case) scratches that free-form construction itch I've had ever since I built my first Lego set.
Only recently did I start to play this vortex for innumerable hours of spare time — upon the request of a friend who insisted I be his mining buddy. After much reluctance (and some reasoning with my conscience), I gave in and payed for the beta version of this so-called "video game."
The server I joined had a magnificent spawn town (I believe that was the actual name) with towering structures and monuments. All I could think about was how many hours it took to put all of this together. But as my friend showed me around his own virtual palace, I began to understand what Minecraft really was and — later — what it wasn't.
He had built elaborate walkways to protect us from the monsters lurking outside, a great-hall filled with chests to house all of our valuables, a forging room stocked with all the supplies needed to construct anything we wished, and even a private mineshaft to countless procedurally-generated minerals; all of these resources were now at my disposal, and my inner architect squealed. This is Minecraft's greatest strength: utilizing the limits of your imagination.
Not to outstay my welcome, I decided to take a stockpile of building materials and set out to found my own palatial estate — not too far away of course, as I still wanted to reap the benefits of the hard work of others. Venturing just far enough to see his home in the distance, I eyed the perfect spot, a small island on an iced-over lake, to place my mark on this world.
With my plot staked and foundation laid, I quickly began drawing up plans for a luxurious abode to call my own. Block by block, my mansion began to grow, contouring the island's odd shape. But night fell before my creation was complete, and soon my enraptured lust for cubic construction would be sullied by something I hadn't thought to be an issue…gameplay.
As the square sun set in the distance, Minecraft's nocturnal inhabitants suddenly — and I mean that quite literally — appeared. Zombies, skeleton archers, and species of explosive demon-spawn known as Creepers sprang into existence, all unnecessarily difficult to kill and whose sole missions were to impede my progress. In fact, they were such a nuisance that I had to wait out the rest of the night in a tiny dirt hut I constructed to keep them at bay.
So with Minecraft's great creative strength comes an increasingly frustrating caveat (one that will more than likely continue to compound until I can no longer take it): the apparent necessity for Minecraft to feel more like a "real" video game, i.e., the need to add design philosophies from other genres in a quest to appease the nagging question: “Is this really a game?”
This is Minecraft's most notable weakness: the game itself. Without the addition of monsters and survival elements, Minecraft is a virtual sandbox for insane craftsmen to make their deranged visions a reality — a key ingredient to its popularity, and the focus of both my horror and my infatuation. It provides something that few games out currently can: a playground to make whatever you want. Why mar that experience with arbitrary combat?
Just recently entering its beta phase, it's understandable that many aspects of Minecraft are still under development. What the game is presently may be completely different as it closes in on an official release. With that in mind, I hope Minecraft will retain some of what I've found so special about it, and won't sacrifice the unique freedom it gives just for some conventional gameplay thrills. With nearly one million copies sold so far, I would like to think there are people just like me, who prefer to imagine and create, and hope that Minecraft will continue to be a place to express that creativity.