Results of Ruminations

Why do we tell stories? Yeah, yeah, I know: To make sense of the world, to preserve our culture and heritage, to explain what we could be. There are lots of reasons, and a lot of them also make sense (which is nice), but I've been thinking a lot about stories lately. Maybe it's because it's late but I'm worried the insomnia that's been plaguing me the last three nights is lurking behind me; maybe it's because my own sense of self-worth and legacy resides in twenty-six fragile letters, pushed back and forth on my keyboard millions of times and my stories remain almost entirely unread; maybe it's because the late July night outside of my now-open window is cooler than July usually is, and that feels like a detail that ought to be remembered somehow, if even in a nebulous, digital way. Maybe there are more reasons for telling stories than there are stories to be told, or maybe because there are really only a handful of each, but the veneer is different enou...

Many years ago, I wrote a video game essay " On Violence ". Looking over it, I think there's some interesting stuff in there. While I no longer put a lot of thought into a video game theory--in part because what seems pertinent and permanent is quickly outmoded and outdated as the industry grinds along--it was fun to see some of my older thoughts on how violence and video games works on a theoretical level. I can say that I'm older now, but though the wisdom is lacking, I see there are other areas about violence that need discussing. This, of course, pertains to the annual trudging through the trenches that I do with my sophomores, looking at how the World Wars came to pass. We've only started this unit, but there's already a bit of...dread, if not in them, then in me. So the so-called "necessity of the wars" comes into my mind. When my middle child was born, I used to read to him for a few minutes as he fell asleep. I picked Violence  by Slavoj ...

A few miles from my house, a mentally ill man forced an evacuation of an elementary school , claiming he had a truck full of explosives. The school evacuated with no casualties or problems and, as of this writing, the perpetrator was in custody. In New York over the weekend, a bomb was set off in Chelsea, leading to a manhunt that has already been resolved . Stabbings in Minnesota . Yet another cop-related shooting, this time in Oklahoma . This is the news of the last twenty-four hours. It can be hard at times like this to declare, unequivocally (also with hyperbole), that this it has never been worse in this country. As a history teacher, it's hard not to want to raise my hand, clear my throat, and say, albeit timidly, "That's not true." The hard part isn't looking into the history books for the evidence. It's feeling as though the data aren't skewed. Anyone can look up the information. In the last two decades alone,  FBI statistics  show a st...

I am one of those people who, after 32 years of birthdays, still likes getting older. Well, I suppose I should clarify that: I love having a birthday. When I was about to turn 24, my first son was born. In fact, it was the day before my own birthday when he came into this world. In part because I was happy to be a dad, and in part because he almost didn't stay in the world for long, I enveloped Peter's birthday into my own. The one day's difference didn't bother me (even though, as a child, I secretly hated my younger brother for having a birthday in March), and I have always deeply enjoyed celebrating my son's birthday with my own. Part of my love of a birthday is from growing up. In a family of four kids, there were plenty of ways in which I could get attention from my parents, but I was always content to just kind of...be there. I didn't do a lot of sports, extra-curricular activities, or trouble. I was pretty content to cruise, rarely doing much out...

I've been troubled, of late, about what feels contradictory and confusing impulses. First, some preface: I'm currently reading Savoj Źiźek's Violence: Big Ideas/Small Book . It is fascinating, deep, and really easy to read (an absolute must for me, as my brain has atrophied more than I care to admit). It contains myriad comments about how we perceive violence, particularly the concept of the symbolism of it. I'm reading it not just for pleasure, but as another useful source for my long-delayed video game analysis. It will often wander down other theoretical and philosophical paths (with more than one unintentionally humorous rant against liberal communists who, from his point of view, simply aren't liberal--or communist--enough), so it's hard to really pin it down well. Nevertheless, it's getting me thinking about violence in general, and war in specific. That's what leads me to this post: War. My class has been slogging through the first half of the t...

There is great difficulty when approaching the Everyman that is supposed to be Solid Snake. His appearance in subsequent games--most canonical, some not ( Super Smash Brothers Melee and the Ac!d games come to mind)--has slowly, almost reluctantly revealed the explosive past and personality of a character who was originally designed to be more transparent. Hideo Kojima explains in an interview: "When I created the main character [Snake], I knew he is essentially the player...I wanted the character to be vague. That way, players will project their own personalities onto the character, and form a stronger connection with Snake." This technique is not unique to games, yet the tropes of transparent characters rarely see such success. Few narratives can readily rely on a blank Everyman, though some do ( Moby-Dick is perhaps the greatest example). The result is perhaps crucial to Snake as an avatar. That isn't to say the character doesn't have personality or a past. The tr...

NOTE: As always, there's a standing spoiler alert for any game I discuss on this blog. Here, I will be talking about Metal Gear Solid for the first PlayStation. Most of the discussion will focus on and spoil only that storyline, but because the five games that comprise the saga (as of this writing, with MGS: Portable Ops taking a necessary place) are linked, it's important to know that some things may get spoiled if you haven't played everything. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ On Liquid In a certain sense, Metal Gear Solid is Liquid's game. Ever one to want to emulate the Patriots--albeit a type of radical, hate-twisted emulation, similar to the one that he has for Big Boss--Liquid takes it upon himself to manipulate, control, and twist Snake's progress. If anyone controls Snake, it should be Liquid, not the gamer. The controller in the hands of the audience is happenstance, for the entire ballet of Shadow Moses is...

NOTE: This one is best read as a follow up to the one about violence and the one about the next level of gaming. I am, admittedly, rather disappointed in this particular essay, but I want to see what others think before I scrap it entirely. Particularly the end—it smacks of being too preachy. You tell me. Also, there is a footnote. Just FYI. Death of the Avatar Roland Barthes in 'Death of the Author': “Writing is that neutral, composite, oblique space where our subject slips away, the negative where all identity is lost, starting with the very identity of the body writing” (Image, Music, Text, 1977). Replace 'writing' with 'gaming', and we have a new instance of death within video games--indeed, may very well be the only death within video games that matters. “[Gaming] is that neutral, composite, oblique space where our subject slips away, the negative where all identity is lost, starting with the very identity of the body [gaming].” Much has been said about t...

There's a gap, somewhere, as necessary as a space between words, yet perplexing all the same. Video games are unique in many ways, but the most important here is the unreality of the experience, connected via a tiny umbilical cord (now wireless) streaming from the participant to the spectacle. This is not 'naïve realism' versus 'representative realism' or any other philosophical thought experiment. Instead, this is the real experiment of what can constitute definitions of reality, but placed inside of a virtual realm. The game is flat, despite having 3D graphics (or the redundant title of 'stereoscopic vision' being added to give the illusion of dimensional depth to games). The game is silent, despite having 7.1 Dolby Digital sound pumping through the speakers. The game is independent, despite being a console attached to a wall attached to a TV attached to a gamer. Perhaps in a quasi-Buddhist way, we could ask, “If no one is around to play the game, is it...

NOTE: This is a long one. It's also a lot more theoretical than conversational. If you have a question, please feel free to post so that I can try to be more clear. There is little debate on what the greatest debate is when it comes to video games: Does the imaginary violence of the game translate into violent behavior in the real world? It seems to be very much a 'depends on your point of view' type of argument. Not only does it depend on one's point of view, but also the particular study itself, what it focuses on, and how well it's managed. It is also important to note the rhetorical tricks of the debate*, since most of the data are coming from second or third sources. But I am no statistician, so numbers do nothing to help me to understand the issue. In fact, numbers about this argument are superfluous, since the entire point of gaming (whether the gamer/designer/critic is aware of it or not) is the individual as the ideal. Let's look at violence, then, shal...