Game Tapes

Blogging takes all of the things I love about conversation and removes the unnecessary fat: I get to say everything I'm thinking, and I don't have to worry about the pesky parts of human interaction, such as listening and responding to others. I can go on and on and on, and the only things that stand between me and endless rants are basic hygiene and nourishment. Set me up with something that resembles a toilet, several gallons of diet soda and a few graham crackers, however, and I will astonish you with how many incoherent, meaningless thoughts a single human brain can produce in text. This is especially true if you get me going about video games (better known to senior citizens as "GAME TAPES"). I don't have many real world outlets for my thoughts on the subject, so when I'm allowed the one-sided conversation power of the blog, everyone should be on high alert for blabbering.

The effects video games have had on my life are unclear. It's a bit of a chicken or the egg scenario: Am I socially incompetent because I love video games, or do I love video games because I'm socially incompetent? I think it's a little from column A and a little from column B, and the end result of the combination is probably going to be me, age 97, emaciated and alone, lying in front of a flickering television screen as the credits of Super Mario World roll for the forty-fifth time in my life. It's a depressing thought, but at least I know I'll have a mildly good time getting there.

Video games are often cited as the perfect example of unhealthy escapism, and to some degree, I can see where that argument is coming from. I may claim to play video games to relax, for the sense of nostalgia, for the art, or as a way to challenge my mind, but let's be honest: The majority of games I play involve bright colors, bouncing protagonists and anthropomorphized animals and plants; I'm clearly just trying to escape the doldrums of my life into one I'd prefer, such as that of a heavy LSD user.

 I'm not new to escapism. Throughout the 7^th Grade, my author of choice was also the author of choice for bored grandmothers everywhere: Mary Higgins Clark. Between video games and the cherished Higgins Clark canon, I think it's safe to say that I've spent my life wishing I was either a distracted plumber or a murder mystery-solving, middle-aged woman. This probably stems from my inability to get a basketball into a hoop without the aid of a ladder, but that's beside the point.

Unfortunately, because I've let go of my obvious subconscious desire to be the heroine in Loves Music, Loves to Dance, my one remaining diversion is video games, and even that avenue seems to be closing up. More and more video games are aimed at two groups of people to which I don't belong, angry teenagers and exercise-crazed housewives, leaving me with the option of gun-toting fantasies or fitness fantasies. My interest in extreme violence will probably rise at the same time I develop an interest in exercise, which I figure gives me another forty years. Until then, I'll have to deal with the few colorful scraps the video game industry leaves me. I'll keep you updated.

Posted by Meredith Boone