Contrary to the oversimplified characterization of a “magic circle” of bounded, inviolable game activity, gamic activity — and video game-play especially — always unfolds over otherwise rigid boundaries. Video game-play makes simultaneous and unbridled use of multiple media, unfurls across imbricated (and frequently exclusive) narratives and procedural norms, and often challenges the player to gauge against contradictory ontological horizons.

This afternoon, in Darnassus, I ran across some NPCs flirting with one another in a corner of the local inn. Their clothing — pointy felt caps and cotton-trimmed smocks in bright red and green — is utterly out-of-place here, but the significance is clear, nonetheless: It is a Christmas card from Warcraft‘s developers to the players. Later, in the dwarven keep, I met some shady NPCs hawking cheeselogs from “Smokeywood Hollows.” If you have ever grappled with a salesperson from Pepperidge Farms during the holidays, you cannot help but smile.

Part of gaming is reading playfully: It is how we learn to unfold the screen’s codex. In the end, I am attracted to these Christmas card not because of what they do, but what they do not do: They do not spoil the game. Smokeywood Hollows and the flirty elves demonstrate the limitations of a faith in the “willing suspension of disbelief” model of immersion in synthetic worlds.