Logitech G203


Is it everything or nothing?

This is by far the most expen­sive mouse I have ever bought at $24.99. It is also per­haps the loud­est piece of com­put­er equip­ment — periph­er­al or oth­er­wise — that I have ever encoun­tered in my entire life with the lit­er­al vol­ume of its click­ing noise, light­ing effects, and the quan­ti­ty of accom­pa­ny­ing bloat­ware. Then again, it is also my first piece of gam­ing gear — a moniker to which I am tech­ni­cal­ly new. A world in which a $50 periph­er­al is con­sid­ered “thor­ough­ly afford­able” is not mine any­more (it nev­er was, but only because of my lim­it­ed ado­les­cent income,) but that’s okay. Per­haps this pur­chase will prove to be the gate­way to my very own Sick Build. Regard­less, my adult life is still full of plen­ti­ful click­ing, and a high-qual­i­ty, “vari­able res­o­lu­tion” mouse should have some sort of place when doing my tax­es, repeat­ed­ly apply­ing for health insur­ance, read­ing dai­ly news for hours, and accu­rate­ly lik­ing Joke Tweets. And — for the sake of a more thor­ough gamer per­spec­tive — I down­loaded all 10GB of Eve Online and clicked around in space for an evening, just in case.

After fif­teen min­utes spent look­ing for the end of the G203’s 6.6-foot USB cable, I plugged it in to my Spec­tre and made the mis­take of man­u­al­ly seek­ing out its Win­dows dri­vers. I thought the 115mb instal­la­tion file was com­i­cal­ly exces­sive for a mouse, but after inad­ver­tent­ly join­ing The G Team, enhanc­ing my new Gam­ing Gear, and appeas­ing the prompt’s request for a reboot, the com­plex­i­ty of the soft­ware more than jus­ti­fied its foot­print, if not its exis­tence.

Nat­u­ral­ly, I was thrilled to opt-in to let my new mouse speak to its moth­er­ship, hop­ing that it would even­tu­al­ly men­tion my hands, which are by far my most flat­ter­ing fea­ture (also, it would be nice if it told them how awk­ward it is to use its soft­ware as long as it remains exempt from UI scal­ing.) Then, the one hun­dred and sev­enth edi­tion of my mouse’s update tool sug­gest­ed that I down­load high­er per­for­mance! (Appar­ent­ly “DPI” means “Dots Per Inch,” and I’m sure 8000 of them is an upgrade from my old roller­ball!)

By default, the huge­ly bright LEDs on the G203 cycle smooth­ly through the col­or­band, which is desir­able to some­one on Earth, I’m sure, but I do not know of them. Come to think of it — out of all of the many Gamers I’ve known and con­versed with about every top­ic imag­in­able, I’m almost pos­i­tive that their own mice — or com­put­er mice as a whole, real­ly — have nev­er come up. Even for these, life is too short to search Con­sumer Reports for com­put­er mouse reviews, but per­haps all of us are in error. I only pur­chased the G203 because all of the majesty of Columbia’s Best Buy (appar­ent­ly the hold­er of the “Worst Best Buy Store in the World” title not so long ago) was sold out of all mice with­in what I then con­sid­ered to be a rea­son­able price range, and it was the one of the remain­ing “expen­sive” but still doable options with the high­est reviews upon a briskly skimmed Google search. Now, I think I can see why. There is a cer­tain qual­i­ty in the way it feels that I’ve clear­ly been miss­ing out on amidst my as-yet-life­long habit of using the cheap­est, knock­off-brand periph­er­als.

First: that ser­rat­ed scroll wheel! Wow! Incre­ment­ed scrolling was the shit, wasn’t it? Can you actu­al­ly read while you two-fin­ger ges­ture scroll? I’m pret­ty sure I can’t, regard­less of how seam­less the expe­ri­ence may or may not be. I can nei­ther imag­ine nor hope this sort of engage­ment — with the web, any­way — will be viable for much longer, but it is a nice option. To be force­ful, notice that options being sort of a theme, here: out of a lack of cheap­er options, I spent a bit more on this, very option-sat­u­rat­ed mouse, and now I can’t move my laptop’s point­er from over six feet away — should I wish — albeit with the oblig­a­tory anx­i­ety over the destruc­tive poten­tial such a teth­er includes, left exposed to the whims of whirling pets or limbs. Of course, you are no doubt won­der­ing why a wired mouse? Isn’t that your whole orig­i­nal lim­i­ta­tion?

Like the smart-mind­ed PC gam­ing enthu­si­ast, I find the poten­tial advan­tages of blue­tooth periph­er­als to be over­shad­owed by their dis­ad­van­tages in a big way. Not so much the inevitable delay of wire­less­ness as was com­mon­ly lament­ed upon by the com­pet­i­tive elite first-per­son-shoot­ers, but the lit­tle slice of bur­den stacked on top of the pile of bat­tery-oper­at­ed devices I already own. Even sans-Tes­la, quartz or smart watch, portable gam­ing con­sole (or, con­sole of any kind with wire­less con­trollers,) tablet, wire­less head­phones, portable speak­ers, eread­er, smart glass­es, and smart jack­et, the pow­er cells in my lap­top, iPhone, and flash­light gen­er­ate plen­ty of charge anx­i­ety enough, and I’d like to hold out for as long as is rea­son­ably fea­si­ble before mul­ti­ply­ing my exist­ing duress. How­ev­er, as per my own obser­va­tions (though not mea­sur­able num­bers,) the G203 seems to be increas­ing the drain on my Spectre’s bat­ter­ies, whether by its huge, always-run­ning soft­ware pres­ence, its phys­i­cal USB draw, or both. Quan­ti­fy­ing the sub­se­quent has­sle of charg­ing my lap­top more often so that it could be mea­sured against that of charg­ing an equiv­a­lent blue­tooth mouse is nei­ther straight­for­ward nor inter­est­ing, but it’s not as if I’ll be using this machine off the charg­er for very much longer after over a year of extreme­ly heavy use.

As long as tools have exist­ed — cer­tain­ly as long as they’ve been sold — they have been divid­ed pri­mar­i­ly into two cat­e­gories: prod­ucts for ama­teurs, and prod­ucts for pro­fes­sion­als. I come from a time when “pro­fes­sion­al gamer” was an oxy­moron (unless you count stuff like snook­er, I guess,) yet now I’m using such a cus­tomiz­able mouse that its hotkeys can be mapped to hotkey map­ping and its sen­si­tiv­i­ty (the dots per inch spec) can be switched “on the fly.” How I’m going to make full use of these func­tion­al­i­ties with­in my word proces­sor has yet to be deter­mined, but when/if it is, it will be com­plete­ly imple­mentable in absolute­ly no time at all. The Log­itech G203 is nei­ther ama­teur nor pro — it is a “prodi­gy,” which from my per­spec­tive has to be an inher­ent­ly nos­tal­gic angle. Top­i­cal­ly, more than any­thing at this moment, I would like to bring the core char­ac­ters of Halt and Catch Fire to life just to show them this mouse, its soft­ware, and all that they are con­stant­ly beg­ging to do togeth­er — like “con­trol­ling [my] Dis­cord client,” what­ev­er the hell that could pos­si­bly mean.

The Log­itech G203 is offi­cial­ly “gamer gear,” but it’s impor­tant to clar­i­fy the term’s mean­ing in both hard­ware and soft­ware for an adult in 2018. And yet, at least it remains over­whelm­ing­ly clear that we will all even­tu­al­ly die.The Log­itech G203 is offi­cial­ly “gamer gear,” but it’s impor­tant to clar­i­fy the term’s mean­ing in both hard­ware and soft­ware for an adult in 2018. And yet, at least it remains over­whelm­ing­ly clear that we will all even­tu­al­ly die.The thing that got us to the thing did so a long time ago — it’s full of nazis and captcha-trained, Pres­i­den­cy-mak­ing Russ­ian robots, now, and my new com­put­er mouse is tak­ing the ini­tia­tive and han­dling all of my cor­re­spon­dence for me. Every­thing is pos­si­ble, but the end is nigh. The same prac­tices we once used in our youth to bide our time and hide from the truths of our finite exis­tence have grown to encom­pass them as well and left no suf­fi­cient dis­trac­tion with which to replace or reverse them — even obnox­ious­ly loud click­ing and bright spec­trum-cross­ing light shows. Now, we must pro­ceed whole­heart­ed­ly under the weight of the knowl­edge that we will soon reach the ulti­mate final­i­ty of the infi­nite rest, our USB mice in hand.