Everyone already knows what happened to Ryan Davis. Age 34, on his God damned honeymoon. It just seems so unfair. I'm not going to go on about his legacy or what he meant, because that's been said a thousand times. Everyone knows who Ryan Davis was, what he meant to this site, to gaming journalism, and to gaming as a whole.
However, I've seen a few threads on the Giant Bomb forum wondering whether people can still game this week, whether the podcast should go on, if maybe we should back off a bit. My answer to this is simple.
Look around you.
Look at your game systems, and think back on the amazing times you've had. That's Ryan Davis.
Look at some quick looks, or read a deep, insightful and thought-provoking review. That's Ryan Davis.
Laugh at a stupidly made video game adaptation. That's Ryan Davis.
Hell, look at that stupid ass Giant Bomb logo with the smiling bomb O. That's Ryan Davis.
We're here, mourning the loss of a great man, and we should be. But let's not forget that this man, this unassuming-looking, rolly-polly bearded dude's legacy, was gaming and his wide-eyed love and wonder toward it. Video games and game journalism are what gave us Ryan to begin with. For many of us, our first time with Ryan was on The Hotspot in the late 90s or early oughts. It was a review he'd written that swayed our decision whether or not to get a game, or seeing him acting a damned fool on On The Spot, or him and @jeff talking about post-Gamespot life in an Arrow Pointing Down episode. He had a passion for gaming that so blessedly few people have ever had, even after seeing how seedy it can be, even when it seems the rest of gaming journalism had grown jaded or even hateful of it.
There are those who ask whether now is a good time to talk about and play video games. I say it's the best time. Go back and re-learn what you love about video games. Forget about all the nonsense about DRM and legislation and console wars and all the other nonsense for just a while and just play some damned games. Enjoy yourself, and let that feeling of child-like glee fill you for a while, because that, more than anything, was Ryan's gift to the world. Cherish it, and hold it closer than you have before, and Ryan will live on in all of us.