For almost 20 years now, I’ve been an advocate of video games. As early as I can remember, they’ve been uncontested for the position of my primary hobby. Regrettably, I spent most of my high school years marinating in the GameFAQs Character Battle message board, which is aptly referred to as “Board 8” due to its URL. Spending all of my time playing, reading or talking about video games transformed me into a formidable human archive. Before the Giant Bomb trivia database became bloated with dumbass questions about specific things in Everquest or new Xbox Shooting Game I couldn’t care less about (which I now imagine is full of Persona 4 questions so maybe I should go back), I was pretty proud of my performance. You might guess that I inherited the label of The Video Game Guy (Because He Talks About Video Games) in real life. Unfortunately, you’d be right. I didn’t mind that label 4 years ago, but it’s wearing a little thin now. The reasons for this sentiment are partially interconnected. My own fleeting interest in video games is partially influenced by the face of games in the tail end of this decade. Despite this, I still advertise them as my hobby and go on this website daily just to check things.
The loves of my favourite games can usually be attributed to strong personal associations, their artistic impact, pure, uncut nostalgia or a combination of any and each. Tales of Symphonia is a game that I introduced to and played all the way through with my best friend. An important part of my life is attached to it. Tales of Vesperia is probably a better game across the board, but I bet I’ll never even touch it again. Final Fantasy VIII (as you can read in my review of it) left me with a bad taste in my mouth from its gameplay, but a bizarre feeling toward its unique narrative. I feel it’s a lot more memorable than many other games that are “better” than it. Being objective, I gave FFVIII a 3 star review and proceeded to evaluate Crackdown at 5 stars a week later because of its price and “fun factor”. Both of those qualities are existent in Crackdown, but it failed to resonate with me like FFVIII. My fond memories of games mostly seem to serve as time capsules, though. UN Squadron’s charm is amplified by my memory of purchasing the cartridge on a weekend trip while listening to Wings’ “Jet” (no pun intended) and these recent weeks will totally be “the time I watched Chappelle’s Show DVDs, went into work sick a few times and gradually played my way through Code Veronica X”.
The first three games of the Metal Gear Solid trilogy define my mid-teenage years and I am glad that I can still talk about how the boss fight against The Fear is a great (perhaps unintentional) homage to Predator, but the actual games and their pacing bore the hell out me now. This happens more often than I’d like it to. Killer7: a masterpiece of a game that I was fascinated with the first time ‘round. I found it difficult to get into the second time, even years later after most of it was fresh again. I can still enjoy a few long time staples and even feel the need to dig them out sometimes. Running Star Fox 64 is a ritual I’ll never tire of, but it’s the rare exception. This general apathy does not stop at re-experiencing old games, but also to playing most new (or just new to me) games. Every once in a while, I’ll stumble upon a timeless gem, but Persona 4 is as much of an exception as SF64. This doesn’t stop me from regularly adding to my collection with games that I would’ve liked to have a few years ago, though.
Am I done with the hobby? Have I officially grown out of video games? The old ones I still enjoy playing and reminiscing about, what they represent and the seldom occurrence of me actually discovering a new game that I enjoy whisper “no”; my disdain for what the hobby of “video games” is perceived as by most people (not just FOX News Idiots, I’m talking most of this site even) as opposed to my version of holding onto key titles from the past and all but ignoring new releases shouts “kind of”. I like to experience them in my own little world, mostly playing and discussing them with real life friends. That and they’re really just not fun anymore. The jadedness has set in. This brings me to the other half of my issue. Why overlook new releases? Answer: I no longer favour the direction and tone of the industry.
In one camp, we have the worst incarnation yet of “douchebag gamer culture” further associated with games and marketing everywhere. In the other, we have things like the Nintendo Wii and Project Natal. I’ve written about the benefits of achievements and trophies before, so this might sound hypocritical, but their pros outweigh their cons in this case. I was once asked by a friend if I thought achievements would make games like Silent Hill 2 or Killer7 lose part of their immersion. My answer now is “yes”. Of course it’s also the dashboard, planned DLC and communities that spoil the experience. In my mind, a line has been crossed. As for the Wii/Natal, I really don’t think unique and exciting ideas can quite flourish there. I’m not going to think as much about a game’s artistic merit while I’m fucking around with a laser wand. It also represents Nintendo falling even further from grace with their poorest creative effort yet. I haven’t been keeping score (so help me if I’m wrong), but the only new franchise I’ve seen Nintendo introduce this generation that hasn’t been Wii stuff/Touch Generation is Starfy (a series that has been in Japan for years and probably only required a quick translation job).
They’ve polluted the suspension of disbelief in games I might like with more online ties/globalization and shrunken the odds of games I find to be classics even being created. When I’m already struggling to enjoy the medium, those factors don’t help. However, I keep playing games because of how much I love the memories and the giant collection I’ve amassed. I suppose I’ll try to let go of all but the memories once the next generation of consoles arrives, but I’ll keep reluctantly perpetuating my unique angle on the hobby called video games until then.