It’s Hard to Talk About Games – Part 1

I’ve been playing video games literally longer than I can remember.  I have some shadowy recollections of playing a Sesame Street game for Commodore 64 when I was 3 or 4, then moved on to DOS, NES, and Genesis games, easy as breathing.  I tell you this not to beg for recognition in a pathetic appeal to seniority, but to explain why I could never explain gaming to non-gamers; I never was one, and I have a hard time understanding what they’re asking.  Someone asking why I play games might as well be asking why I sleep; it’s because I’ve always done it, and the alternative seems awful.

If other gamers share even a little of my mentality, then no fucking wonder non-gamers don’t understand our experiences – we completely lack the language to share them.  If the gamer community is ever going to be more accepting and less insular – if it’s going to get people to not just admit, but appreciate, that games are art – we need to fix that.  Now. Continue reading

Interface

I’ve always believed that people are fundamentally separate.  I envision us as tiny pilots in our own skulls, desperately slamming buttons and pulling levers to make our bodies walk and talk and touch.  I try to tell people about the fact that I live in my head.  Before I can say “and I think you do, too,” they start giving advice on how to “get out” and “live.”  I don’t know how to talk about it without someone hearing “please help me” instead.  I don’t know why it sounds like an insult to be in your head.  I love my head.  It’s where my brain is.

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