Government vs Video Games

When depictions of gratuitous violence in media come under attack after every mass killing, video games predictably take the majority of this misdirected blame, especially when the killer is twenty-something or younger. Good people who play video games, when they hear of this, are either indifferent or outraged, but no one is ever surprised. I bet no one was surprised the first time it ever happened, either. This kind of reaction might be reckless and inappropriate, but — let's be honest — it's understandable.

When a guy shoots a bunch of people, and they go into his house and find a video game in which the objective is to (virtually) shoot a bunch of (virtual) people, it certainly looks pretty incriminating. I can hardly blame the pundits and lawmakers for jumping to conclusions. More damning yet is that violent video games, unlike any of the violent movies this killer might have enjoyed, have an interactive element which puts the player in direct control of that violence. In the case of first-person shooters, it allows the player to pull the trigger.

Never mind the fact that ownership of these games is so common that their presence in the home of a killer is almost meaningless. When an innocent child plays Call of Duty and doesn't kill anyone for real, it's not nearly as newsworthy as the social outcast who (allegedly, according to some guy, maybe) became addicted to online first-person shooters before slaughtering children. People who get all of their information from the news are obviously going to have a skewed perspective. Those who think they see a correlation, and then blindly make the illogical leap to causation, don't fully realize that the video game has become such a socially acceptable pastime. They don't understand that recent spree killers who are known to have played video games did so only because they were, at least in this particular way, somewhat normal.

It's not entirely insane to draw bad conclusions about the effects of violent media when you simply haven't been told that an entire generation has been willingly exposed to everything from Mortal Kombat to Halo without a disproportionate number of individuals developing psychopathic or violent tendencies. The effortless and instant gratification that we get from video games and other computerized gadgets has only turned us into a bunch of lazy slobs. If it's true that violent crime has actually decreased in recent years, it's probably because we're too lazy to go outside and kill people even if we want to. We'd rather order pizza from our video game console and continue yelling obscenities into our headset while we 360 no-scope the kid on the other team and then brag about how tough we are.

Studies on the possible effects of exposure to violent video games continue to contradict each other, as do the self-proclaimed experts, but if video games do turn young people into murderers then it sure isn't obvious to those of us who actually play them. The gray-haired people who disagree with us have only an outsider's perspective.

Regardless of the facts, the usual scapegoat is used and abused every time a national tragedy prompts a discussion of what might be done to prevent violence. While cooler heads and logical thinking usually prevail, logic necessarily goes out the window for a period of time after every widely publicized act of senseless violence, because during such a time it's considered rude not to be ruled by your emotions. (If something terrible happens and you're not immediately calling for the public execution of the first possible suspect without waiting for a trial, you're a traitor; if children die and you're not calling for billions of dollars worth of unnecessarily legislation, you just don't care about children.) Proposals to restrict the content or sale of video games inevitably pop up here and there, and we all argue about them until our faces turn blue. However, by the time these proposals hit modern interpretations of the First Amendment like a brick wall, we've already forgotten about them, and things go back to normal until the next school shooting.

The cycle is currently in the process of repeating itself, thanks in part to last year's mass murder in Newtown, Connecticut. The push to depict the video game as a dangerous brainwashing tool has since gone into overdrive — not only because of the particularly horrific nature of this killing, and claims that the young perpetrator played too much Call of Duty, but also because violence in media had already been on the public's mind since the earlier shooting in Aurora, Colorado. After the more recent bombing attack in Boston, Massachusetts, I almost expected the anti-gaming sentiment to graduate from "video games cause violence" to "video games cause terrorism" (for it's almost a certainty that at least one of the Tsarnaev brothers had been exposed to at least one video game featuring some form of violence, and that's usually enough for a sensationalist news article). Fortunately, though, it seems that video games are only a plausible scapegoat until the T-word is used.

Regardless of which (if any) crimes can be linked to the consumption of video games, politicians are once again trying to fix the apparent epidemic of violent crime (i.e., a few high-profile cases) by campaigning for tighter restrictions on the medium. This is happening now in my home state of New Jersey, perhaps most notable today for hosting awful reality TV shows and having many of its tourist attractions ravaged by Hurricane Sandy. Am I worried? Maybe I would be if I were 12 years old, but as an adult, I'm outside the scope of any realistic attempt at regulation. Should anyone be worried? Not yet, since all of the proposed legislation I've seen is useless and inconsequential, as if government officials are just trying to look busy without rocking the boat too much. (And I guess that's normal.)

Earlier this month, for example, we heard of an assemblywoman who wants to ban playable M-rated and AO-rated games from public places. While such a proposal isn't by any means outrageous, someone clearly goofed up the details, because the idea as written is little more than a nuisance and a waste of tax money. Such a law, pertaining specifically to video games that are playable in public, could only affect arcade games and those console set-ups in video game stores. But the ESRB — creator of the M and AO ratings — doesn't even rate arcade games, and as for the playable console games in retail stores, I just couldn't care less if I tried. Last time I went to Best Buy, the games on display were kid-friendly platformers and Kinect nonsense.

To get arcade games back on the chopping block, they could just remove the references to ESRB ratings from the bill and apply the restrictions more broadly to any game featuring violence, but the popularity of arcade games is so low that passing the law would hardly be worth the effort. There are a few arcade machines at my local movie theater but nobody plays them. (And when the price of a single play has gone from $0.25 to $0.50 and sometimes $1.00, why should they? We all have video games in our homes now, and we can play them all day without losing a bunch of quarters.) There are still some standalone video arcades along the boardwalk (assuming they weren't all washed away when that hurricane blew through the Northeast), but they don't tend to have more than a few violent games. At worst, they'd have to toss the latest installment of Time Crisis or House of the Dead.

Meanwhile, New Jersey governor Chris Christie (whose high approval ratings have made him somewhat of a big deal) wants to prohibit the sale of M-rated and AO-rated games to minors without parental consent. This idea actually makes some sense, if you believe in the ESRB rating system. Of course, such a law would run afoul of a Supreme Court decision that overturned a similar law in California on the grounds that video games (like other creative works) are a protected form of free speech. For this reason, Christie's plan is likely to fail. But, hypothetically, what if a law restricting the sale of violent games were passed anyway? And what if it weren't immediately overturned by a higher court? I've composed a list of all the things that might change in my life as a direct result:

• There might be fewer underage brats in the online games that I play.
• I might need to bring my driver's license when I drive to the local video game store.

... That's all I've got.

Whenever we hear of possible restrictions on the sale of games to minors, there are those who act as if an outright ban on violent video games is in the works, and listening to all the unwarranted outrage is really tiring. Whether it's all a kneejerk reaction by people who jump to conclusions without carefully reading the news, or a genuine fear of a "slippery slope" that ends with blatant censorship, such an alarmist response is just as unnecessary and unhelpful as the actual legislation that's being proposed.

With a law in place, not much would change for most retailers and consumers, since the industry's self-imposed standards are almost identical to what our elected officials want to enforce. The ESRB recommends that M-rated games not be sold directly to anyone under 17 years old, and most retail stores already go along with this. In fact, on average, game retailers are doing pretty well at keeping these adult-oriented games out of children's hands. According to the FTC, it's easier for a minor to buy a ticket to an R-rated movie than to buy an M-rated game, so it's nothing short of ironic that my governor thinks we should be looking to R-rated films as an example of proper regulation and then "setting the same standard" for video games.

Compliance with this standard would surely be even higher if it became a legal issue, but parents would still be able to buy the games for their kids, which is exactly what they're doing now. Most young kids who play Call of Duty: Black Ops II didn't sneak out of the house and take a bus to the nearest GameStop to buy it. They got it from mommy for Christmas. The fact that so many minors are playing violent video games, while so few are actually buying them, means a lot of parents have no problem with providing the consent that the proposed law would require.

Meanwhile, parents who don't want their kids playing violent video games can easily enforce this decision at home, and this is already happening too. A kid who buys an M-rated game without an accompanying adult isn't necessarily doing it without parental permission; in fact, he or she probably does have that permission, implied or explicit, because otherwise the game might end up in the trash soon after entering the house. Some parents, of course, are just neglectful and stupid, but that's not the government's business. There's no need for state legislators to step in and raise everyone's children.

For all these reasons, passing a law to enforce age restrictions would be little more than another waste of time and money, regardless of whether video games have anything to do with violent behavior in children. On the other hand, for all the same reasons, I'm finding it hard to care whether this or any similar law is passed, now or in the future. Do violent video games cause violent behavior? Almost certainly not. Does this mean adult-oriented games are appropriate for kids? Not necessarily. Although the government might not have the right to enforce it, parents should decide what their kids play and I applaud game retailers for enforcing the age restrictions even when no law is in place. You won't hear me complaining if the government spoils the fun for a relatively small number of kids who actually manage to buy Grand Theft Auto behind their parents' backs without being stopped at the counter.

Happy Halloween! Have Some Spoilers

Halloween is here, and Hurricane Sandy has passed my home, leaving it at least 99% intact. Meanwhile, I haven't much to write, since I already posted this week. So maybe I'll do what a lot of other bloggers do and comment on the news.

Where do I start? Well, Assassin's Creed III came out yesterday... for consoles. For some reason, PC players have to wait until November 20. Suddenly I feel like a second-class citizen. No doubt, if asked about this, the publishers would mutter something about piracy. But even if they were being sincere, I'd have no sympathy for them, since they've already gotten more money than they likely deserve.

Remember when I mentioned Assassin's Creed III in my tirade against the entire concept of pre-ordering video games? I can't shake the feeling that you've all let me down, since the game has broken Ubisoft's pre-order records. I can see why this might happen; it's a highly anticipated sequel in a popular franchise. Furthermore, by offering a "season pass" for upcoming downloadable content at a modest 25% discount, Ubisoft was clearly doing its best to make "buy it now and ask questions later" sound a lot less crazy than it is. But it's still crazy, especially when Ubisoft refuses to release a playable demo.

And then there's news that the game will feature microtransactions (which, in this case, seems to mean trading real-life money for in-game currency which may or may not provide players with an unfair advantage in multiplayer matches). The same people who pre-ordered the game at full price without even trying it first, and then pre-ordered a bunch of DLC packs without even knowing what they would contain, probably won't be able to resist partaking in this final moneygrab... that is, unless they very quickly become disappointed in the game after they've played it.

The critics' reviews are mostly positive, of course, but when the game's ending was (predictably) uploaded to YouTube as early as two days before the official release date, a lot of potential customers found at least one reason not to buy the game. Some fans of the series, even without taking the time to play through this final act, seem to be upset about how the story turns out, and there are plenty of comments along the lines of "wow, that sucked, I'm so glad I didn't spend $60 on this."

For the record, I haven't watched the video below in full, because I might yet decide to play this game (once all the reviews are in and a bribe-free consensus on its quality has been reached, once the price has dropped to a reasonable level, and perhaps once there's some kind of special edition for PC with all that silly DLC included). Needless to say, however, it does contain spoilers.

The conclusion of Desmond Miles' story arc has prompted not only a lot of complaints, but also some comparisons to the ending of Mass Effect 3... which, by the way, was poorly received, largely because the game's multiple endings were so similar. (The video below explains the frequent jokes about the different endings being the same except for the choice of color.)

From what I've heard, Assassin's Creed III doesn't have multiple endings, and the reasons that some people hate its singular ending are accordingly much different. Although (as I've pointed out) I haven't watched the ending myself, it sounds like part of the problem is another ridiculous plot twist out of left field. In a way, this isn't surprising. When a story like that of the Assassin's Creed series relies so heavily on plot twists and cliffhangers, two things happen. First, the story ends up feeling too random or inconsistent, usually after some "grand-finale" plot twist employed in a last-ditch effort to truly surprise players; second, the writers get so attuned to raising questions and leaving things unresolved that they forget how to answer all those questions without resorting to some stupid cop-out.

The one constant here — besides, of course, each game being the conclusion of a trilogy — is that hardcore fans of each franchise felt cheated. After sinking so much money into a series, that hurts.

A similar thing happened recently with Halo 4, whose ending wound up on YouTube a couple of weeks ago, despite the game's official release date of November 6. Microsoft has been scrambling to take the videos down for obvious reasons, and it looks like they've been somewhat successful, because I can't seem to find a high-quality version. (The videos below, which I found and embedded in a playlist, are likely to vanish soon.)

An allegedly sub-par ending, combined with the most banal and corny tagline of all time, has drawn a lot of laughs at the expense of this futuristic shooter. (An Ancient Evil Awakens? Seriously? Correct me if I'm wrong, but that was a cliché long before the Halo 4 marketing team got a hold of it.) I'm not sure if I can fully grasp just how good or bad this ending is, because I haven't played a Halo game since the second installment, but some fans were upset about it. (Perhaps too upset, considering that, with Halo 5 and Halo 6 supposedly in the works, it's not really an ending at all.)

Ultimately, none of this really matters, as long as the bulk of the gameplay is enjoyable... at least, that's the theory. But video game sequels are almost always advertised as continuations of a story, with cinematic trailers featuring minimal gameplay footage. Perhaps the assumption is that we already know what the gameplay is like, since we played the previous game, or that we shouldn't need to ask about the gameplay because any product with a sufficient amount of hype is worth pre-ordering, no questions asked. In any case, the result is a game advertised on the basis of its plot, and purchased primarily by owners of the previous titles, who want to know how the story ends. A bad ending, therefore, is pretty hard to ignore.

So how does the industry avoid disappointing fans with bad endings? Simply to write better endings might not be the answer; that's easier said than done, and the quality of an ending is ultimately a subjective thing. (A vocal minority, at least, will always complain, no matter what.) I think a better solution is to stop making so many sequels — to create more stand-alone games to be judged on their own merit rather than allowing so many new releases to ride on the hype generated by their predecessors — and, by extension, to stop making games that end in cliffhangers in anticipation of sequels that haven't been written. They should stop deliberately writing stories that span multiple games, thereby forcing players finish an entire trilogy (tetralogy, pentalogy, hexalogy, etc.) to find out if the final "ending" to a given story arc is any good.

They won't listen to me, though; cliffhangers are a fantastic way to make money.

In other news, Painkiller: Hell & Damnation is out today. Unfortunately, given that it's just about the newest game on Steam, it hasn't joined the rest of the Painkiller series as part of their Halloween Sale. That's not really a big deal, though, since they've set the standard price at a reasonable $20 instead of jumping straight to $60 regardless of quality like most publishers/developers do.

Five Things I'd Like to See in Half-Life 3

First, a brief history of the Half-Life series:

1998 — Half-Life
1999 — Half-Life: Opposing Force
2000
2001 — Half-Life: Blue Shift; Half-Life: Decay
2002
2003
2004 — Half-Life 2
2005
2006 — Half-Life 2: Episode One
2007 — Half-Life 2: Episode Two
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012

I've left the uneventful years on the timeline to illustrate the gaps between releases and to show how long it's been since production of the series came to a halt. As of today, it has been exactly five years since Half-Life 2: Episode Two — a game which ends abruptly with a painful cliffhanger — was released to the public as part of The Orange Box.

A continuation, presumably titled Half-Life 2: Episode Three, was announced back in 2006, and it was originally supposed to come out sometime in 2007, but we still haven't seen it. There hasn't even been a demo or a trailer. To this day, the official website for The Orange Box still claims that Half-Life 2: Episode Two is the "the second in a trilogy" of episodic expansions for the popular first-person shooter, but Half-Life developer Valve has given us almost no information except for some weird ideas which, if the game is still in production, have probably been dropped already.

Valve is known for long development cycles, lots of delays, and drastic changes during those long development cycles, which lead to more delays. What makes their silence on Episode Three so frustrating is that the Episodes, like other "episodic" games, were supposed to be released in rather quick succession. The whole point, I thought, was to release content in small chunks, as they were finished, so that fans wouldn't have to wait half a decade for the next installment. But I guess that wasn't working out.

If another Half-Life game is ever released, it almost certainly won't be an Episode; Valve co-founder Gabe Newell says they're done with episodic content, which essentially translates to "Half-Life 2: Episode Three is never coming." Of course, that doesn't rule out a proper Half-Life 3, which is exactly what we need. The next addition to the series will have to be a full game (and a damn good one) if Valve hopes to come within reach of the impossibly high expectations generated by such a long wait.

It's likely that Half-Life 3 won't life up to these expectations at all. Valve kind of screwed things up by promising the prompt release of an episodic expansion which never came to be. The endless wait for Half-Life 2: Episode Three seamlessly evolved into an endless wait for Half-Life 3, and now many see Half-Life 3 as vaporware, despite the fact that the five-year gap in this series is nothing compared to the 15-year development of the poorly received Duke Nukem Forever.

But if we ever get a sequel, there are a few things I'd like to see. (Note that spoilers follow.)

1. A more open world (but not too open)

Nearly three weeks ago, some rumors regarding Half-Life 3 made the rounds on all the usual gaming sites. (This is nothing special, really; it's been nonstop rumors for five years, and they should always be taken with a grain of salt, but at least they give us something to talk about.) According to some anonymous but reliable source — sounds legit, guys — Half-Life 3 will be an open-world game, and will be released sometime after 2013. I'm not digging the 2014+ release date, but an open world sounds nice. Until now, the Half-Life games have been very linear. More exploration, multiple paths, and optional objectives would be a welcome addition to the series.

What we don't need is another S.T.A.L.K.E.R. or some kind of role-playing game. Those are nice, but they're not what Half-Life is all about. While I'm sure Valve is aiming to avoid accusations that their next game is too linear — that it essentially boils down to "shoot everything, move to the next room, shoot everything, repeat" — I hope they don't completely abandon the method of storytelling that has worked so well in their games so far. It would be nothing short of jarring to go from Half-Life 2: Episode Two, an action-packed but story-driven shooter with clear objectives, to something more like a free-roam sandbox with not enough direction and too much empty space.

2. A portal gun (or something like it)

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the Portal and Half-Life stories are intertwined. Portal contained some funny references to Half-Life's Black Mesa, and Half-Life 2: Episode Two brought Portal into Half-Life canon with its mention of Aperture Science in the final act. It's an odd relationship, since Half-Life is a semi-serious first-person shooter whereas Portal is a humorous puzzle game... but there are thematic similarities.

While Portal's humor doesn't quite fit with the general tone of the Half-Life series, both franchises heavily feature teleportation, and this is probably why Valve thought it was appropriate to tie them together. The extent to which Valve plans to pursue this connection, obviously, is unknown — I certainly don't expect Gordon Freeman and Chell to team up against the Combine — but after making such a big deal out of the Aperture Science research vessel Borealis at the end of Episode Two, it's too late to drop the subject entirely. It will be downright silly if the next Half-Life game doesn't feature the Borealis and, by extension, other things related to Aperture Science.

With any luck, that includes some kind of handheld portal device, preferably one that's a little more stable than the Displacer Cannon from Half-Life: Opposing Force. Aperture's portal gun, if featured in Half-Life 3, could (in part) fill the role of Half-Life 2's gravity gun as the slightly-gimmicky puzzle-solving item that's also a weapon if you use it right. I know we've all had plenty of time to play around with the portal gun in Portal and Portal 2, but using it in a combat-oriented game could be kind of fun.

3. The extent of the Combine's power

While Gordon Freeman was in stasis between the end of Half-Life and the beginning of Half-Life 2, we missed an apocalypse. By the time we arrive in City 17, human society has already collapsed under the heel of an enormous alien empire, and the occupying forces, it would seem, have since largely withdrawn, leaving what's left of our species under the control of brainwashed transhuman soldiers.

Throughout Half-Life 2 and the Episodes, we see the aftermath of the Seven Hour War which ended in Earth's surrender, but we never see the Combine display the kind of raw power that could bring an entire planet to its knees in less than a day. What we see instead is a somewhat underwhelming uprising against what must have been a tiny fraction of the army that invaded Earth. This is why we know we're in a world of trouble when Dr. Kleiner speaks, after the uprising begins, of the Combine's "inevitable return and what is certain to be unimaginable retaliation."

But how unstoppable are they? What's their evil-alien-empire power level? Could they take on the Covenant from Halo or the Reapers from Mass Effect? We just don't know.

And this, in part, is what makes the story in Half-Life 2 as good as it is. Just enough is left to the player's imagination. We know the Combine are scary, but the fact that we don't know just how scary they are makes them even scarier. We don't need to see the Seven Hour War to believe it, and I honestly hope Valve doesn't give us a prequel to illustrate it. (That seems like a great excuse for a bad game.) But if Half-Life 3 continues (and perhaps concludes) the story arc left unfinished in Episode Two, it would be nice to see the bad guys step it up a bit.

After one game and two expansions, our alien overlords have only embarrassed themselves in their failed attempts to track down and kill a single theoretical physicist. It seems like the right time to see a glimpse of their true power. Besides, we've already spent enough time shooting metrocops and blowing up striders. We need something bigger.

4. A single-player campaign

This probably seems like a strange thing to hope for, since nearly every game in the series to date is primarily single-player. (The notable exceptions are the PS2-exclusive Half-Life: Decay and the Japan-only arcade Half-Life 2: Survivor.) However, we do have a reason to fear for the future of single-player games. Electronic Arts, for example, has abandoned them, and Gabe Newell himself said last year that Valve no longer had any interest in creating games "with an isolated single-player experience."

Naturally, Half-Life fans waiting for the next sequel were horrified, and even though Gabe later attempted to clarify his statement to let us know that the company hadn't given up on single-player games entirely, I'm still a bit worried. While they might continue making single-player games, they seem to have a lot of ideas about making these games more social.

It seems plausible, for example, that Half-Life 3 might be built for some kind of cooperative mode where one player controls Gordon Freeman and the other controls Alyx Vance. I hope this doesn't happen. I also don't want to see Half-Life 3 loaded with a bunch of pointless social features. I like single-player games, and I prefer to play them without being bothered about friend requests and leaderboards.

I'm sure that Half-Life 3 will have its own analog to Half-Life 2: Deathmatch, but it would be great if they could just keep the single-player and multiplayer components separate, so I can play one and ignore the other.

5. An ending (I know, it's a stretch)

The Half-Life games are fun, but they tend to have terrible endings which hardly qualify as endings at all.

The original ends with Gordon Freeman being kidnapped by the so-called "G-Man" (whose identity and motives are never explained), Opposing Force ends with the same fate for Adrian Shephard (who is never seen again), Half-Life 2 ends with Freeman being whisked away by the G-Man again (leaving the story at an explosion-related cliffhanger), Episode One ends with another explosion (followed by a train crash and a fade to black), and Episode Two ends awkwardly with one supporting character crying over another supporting character's corpse. (It was the worst finale I've ever seen in the history of video games, and perhaps that's because it was never meant to be a finale. Keep in mind that, at some point, they were actually planning to finish Episode Three.)

Blue Shift has a happy ending, but it isn't a particularly interesting one.

So I won't be surprised if Half-Life 3 ends with another suspenseful but unresolved situation — another set-up for another sequel that might take another ten years to make — but it would be great if Valve could just give us some kind of satisfying resolution instead. I'm not saying they should end the story entirely, but they could at least cool it with the unbearable cliffhangers. In other words, if Valve plans on rolling the credits right after an important character dies, or having the G-Man stop by for another inexplicable kidnapping, I'd rather not play the game at all.

Five Great Games I'll Never Play

So many video games have been made over the past few decades that no single person could ever hope to play them all from beginning to end. This isn't an exaggeration; it's pretty clear that there just aren't enough hours in a lifetime, especially when you consider that a third of a life is spent sleeping while another third is typically spent on other irritating obligations such as a full time job. I'll let you do the rest of the math, since I'm not exactly sure how to estimate the average length of a video game or the total number of video games ever published, but I'm certain that you'd have to dedicate your life to video games in order to experience everything this medium has to offer.

Of course, no single person would really want to play all these games, either, since no one likes every genre and a lot of games are just crap. The list gets a lot shorter when you limit yourself to games which are generally considered to be worth playing, and there's an even shorter list of games that are so highly regarded and well known that they're almost considered mandatory.

I have to admit, however, that I've missed out on a lot of supposedly great classics. I grew up with Super Mario Bros. and Doom, and I've played my fair share of Zelda games, but there are a number of immensely popular games that I've never played, and most likely never will. For your reading pleasure, I present the first five such video game franchises that came to mind, listed in reverse order for dramatic effect.

5: Metal Gear Solid

I grew up with two brothers, and at some point my mother must have lost her mind, because by the time the Sega Dreamcast came out, we each had our own console. Of course, though we weren't sharing them like we did with the old SNES, it would have been silly to keep more than one of the same console in the house, so after my older brother got his own PlayStation, I got a Nintendo 64. He got Metal Gear Solid, and I got Ocarina of Time. Fair enough, right?

I watched him play the game for a while. It was pretty entertaining to watch, although I couldn't tell if it was really fun to play because he was the kind of person who would constantly get mad as hell at any game that presented any sort of challenge, which is probably why he hardly plays video games at all anymore. (That, and having a life.) I was really only interested in the story, even if it was hard to follow, but I never had a chance to play through the game myself.

Every time a new Metal Gear game is released, I think, "wow, that looks pretty cool, I should play it." But with a story-driven series like Metal Gear, I could never bring myself to play the latest installment without playing through all the ones that came before it (useless non-canonical spin-offs, if any exist, excluded). At this point, I'm so many games behind that I don't think I could possibly catch up. Even if I wanted to try, doing so would be quite an investment, since I don't even own a PlayStation 3. (The alternative is to watch a few dozen hours of "Let's Play" videos on YouTube, which would be fine, since the later Metal Gear games have such a high cutscene-to-gameplay ratio that they're practically movies anyway.)

Update: I must have psychic powers or something, because a new Metal Gear game was announced just after I wrote this stupid post. Too spooky.

4: Final Fantasy

I have my doubts about whether it's possible to enjoy Final Fantasy without liking anime, and my history with anime was short and complicated. I thought Japanese animation was awesome when I watched Princess Mononoke and Cowboy Bebop and Fullmetal Alchemist, but when I saw what typical modern anime was like, I was filled with shame and disgust.

Okay, so maybe it isn't quite fair to say that this has anything to do with Final Fantasy, but there's also the fact that I'm sickened by turn-based combat.

The Final Fantasy franchise is so famous and influential that I almost feel like I can't call myself a gamer without having played at least a couple of games in the series. Then again, I don't call myself a gamer because "gamer" is a stupid word, and on the few occasions when I actually watched my Playstation-owning older brother play Final Fantasy VII, I was bored to tears.

And don't get me started on the character design.

3: World of Warcraft

I never liked MMORPGs, and I've always refused to play anything that requires a monthly subscription fee (which is why I don't own an Xbox 360). It's probably no surprise, therefore, that I never bothered to play World of Warcraft, and that I fully intend to die without ever having played it, especially now that the newest expansion looks like an homage to Kung Fu Panda, or a strange attempt to grab the attention of the furry crowd, or both. (Okay, so the Warcraft franchise never took itself that seriously, but really, this is too much.)

I wouldn't say that World of Warcraft is a classic; it's not quite old enough for that. But it is — or was, during the height of its popularity — extremely important in the gaming world. I am, though, a bit surprised that the game ever became as popular as it did, considering its connection to a series of RTS games that the vast majority of WoW subscribers have almost certainly never played. Brand recognition wasn't a factor, for them; the game must have earned its popularity by being fun, or something. I can't say I understand it, but WoW just managed to nail the perfect combination of whatever things make MMORPGs fun for those who don't despise them.

2: Counter-Strike

Counter-Strike, the popular Half-Life modification turned stand-alone game, seems like a pretty big deal. However, at the time of its release, I hadn't graduated from console games to PC games, and the only "modern" shooters I can remember having played at length are GoldenEye 007 and its spiritual successor Perfect Dark. I never even played a first-person shooter online until my brother bought an Xbox and a copy of Halo and needed a fourth player to beat some racist kids at CTF via GameSpy Arcade.

Also, I'm ashamed to admit it, but it wasn't until 2005 (when I bought the PC version of F.E.A.R.) that I realized how much easier it is to play first-person shooters with a keyboard and mouse. The downside is that I haven't been able to go back to console shooters ever since. Awkwardly aiming with my thumbs just feels so wrong, and I don't understand how I ever managed to enjoy it.

The result of all this is that I missed out on a lot of competitive online shooters, Counter-Strike included. After the most recent winter sale on Steam, I did end up with a free copy of Counter-Strike: Source in my inventory, but I'm probably going to send it to someone else instead of playing it myself. I'm sure the game is fun, and that it rightfully earned its place in gaming history, but it's... well, it's old.

Don't get me wrong; I can appreciate old games. But Counter-Strike is a competitive and exclusively online multiplayer game. Forget the fact that I prefer single-player games and care little for competitive FPS — when I say that Counter-Strike is old, I mean that its online community, while still active, is almost entirely composed of people who have been playing for hundreds (if not thousands) of hours and already know exactly what they're doing. Considering this and the game's competitive nature, I suspect the players in the average Counter-Strike server would be less welcoming to newcomers than the other guys playing another game that came out last month.

Starting Counter-Strike or Counter-Strike: Source now would probably be like joining a random DotA server with no prior knowledge of how the ARTS genre works. (In case you're not getting the joke here, I'll just point out that ARTS players are widely known for being obnoxious jerks who talk trash more than they actually play and who frequently ban people from their servers not for cheating but simply for being insufficiently skilled at the game in question. I even considered putting DotA on this list, as well, since I have no interest in ever playing a game in which being a newbie is a bannable offense, but then I'd have to admit that DotA is "great" in some way, and I cannot.)

If I wanted to break into the Counter-Strike scene, I'd probably be better off buying Global Offensive... but, again, I still prefer single-player games and care little for competitive FPS. Haters gonna hate, I guess.

1: Sonic the Hedgehog

My first video game console was a Nintendo Entertainment System. (I was actually born just a few years after the console came out and, by the time I played it, the Super Nintendo had already been released in North America, but my parents were thrifty. I'm sure they saved some money by getting an old console, and I was too young to know I was playing with outdated technology, so everyone was happy.) Although I did, eventually, inherit a Sega Genesis from a member of my extended family, this wasn't until years later, and I only ever played the games that I got with the console. Sonic the Hedgehog wasn't one of them.

At this point, I could have gone and bought the game or one of its sequels, but I wasn't interested in collecting old games at the time, and I had no feelings of nostalgia for the spiky Sega mascot. Running fast never seemed like a very cool super-power anyway. To this day, I've never played a Sonic game, with the exception of Sonic Adventure, and that was only for a few dull minutes.

I can't really say I have anything against the Sonic games, since I've never played them. I am, though, a little freaked out by the fanbase with which I'd be associating myself if I actually decided to put the Sonic series on my to-do list. At some point over the past 21 years, the Sonic franchise began to accumulate one of the worst followings in all of video game history.

It's almost difficult to describe what makes Sonic fans so horrifying. While the most hardcore fans of any video game series tend to be a bit kooky, Sonic fans set themselves apart from the rest with some of the worst fan-art and fan-fiction ever created — loads of it — complete with innumerable attempts at "original characters" which essentially amount to badly drawn re-colorings of the original Sonic design. I learned to avoid sites like deviantART because of this stuff.

Almost all fan-art is horrible, and fan-fiction of all kinds is so uniformly bad that I wish copyright holders (particularly of Twilight, Harry Potter, Sonic and every anime) would try a bit harder to crack down on unauthorized use of their intellectual property. At the very least, perhaps this would put an end to the delusion that fan-art is actual art and that a work of fan-fiction will ever be recognized as actual literature. (Please don't use Fifty Shades of Grey as a counter-example; erotic fiction is trash, and by the time it was published, the novel had no doubt shed all connection to Twilight, which is also trash.) Anyone who uploads poorly drawn cartoons of "[insert name here] the Hedgehog" to deviantART, or writes erotic fan-fiction based on Sonic or any other video game involving anthropomorphic animals, deserves to be sued into bankruptcy.

I know that playing the game would not mean participating in this foolishness, but I just can't do it. Playing Sonic the Hedgehog after witnessing what goes on in the terrifying underworld of Sonic fandom would be like watching Signs after seeing a video of Mel Gibson and Joaquin Phoenix viciously beating a small child to death with a couple of crowbars. (Disclaimer: this never actually happened.)