I was truly shocked when I read that write-up on Rock Band 4 by a bloke from Pollygums. Not because he came across as an arse, no. It was because he awoke a cold, hard revelation deep within my rather splendid innards.There are times I sit in my local Nando’s and wonder what I did to deserve this most revolting of vocations. I’ve wasted the best part of my life breaking into company HQ’s and rummaging in their bins just to get the scoop on games like Fallout 4 and stories like why Konami hate money. Something has dawned on me: games are actually beneath me people, and they should be beneath you as well… Why?… Because they are stupid.
Why do I do this? I don’t even care that I’m getting paid handsomely to rub shoulders with the top names in the games industry. Gabe Newell once tried to share with me the secret reason behind Half-Life’s neverending hiatus and I just turned away—bored to tears by his childish mewlings–and talked to Gregory Fuqueman from MankWag about the troubling issues facing Chilean Cabbage Spiders instead. I should have known then that this is an industry for the Peter Pan generation. Entitled brats with stubble, plaid shirts and thick-framed glasses. The same goes for the men, too.
That guy from Pollygums? He’s only saying what we all think. Games are a child’s plaything and it is frankly embarrassing that grown humans actually argue about frame rates, specs, gameplay and all that other balls when they could be proactive in creating a better tomorrow for the indigenous tribes of Hoogissafud. That’s what I should be doing, not staring into the endless void of my very being as I play The Phantom Pain with the stark, bleak words ‘’I’m not really Kiefer Sutherland with an eye patch, a piece of Shrapnel in my head and a penchant for fultoning sheep, I’m Kevin Tawkchitte, a regular guy who could have been talking about organic banana bread recipes and what happened on House of Cards with Roger in accounts instead of supping spring water from a virgin’s ear lobe with Hideo bloody Kojima swirling in my tortured mind, eating away at what remains of my extremely cultured, troubled soul.
Open your eyes to the truth folks. Gaming is a lost cause for anyone above the age of seven. It’s too late for me, I have no choice but to go to LA, all expenses paid just so I can get some soundbites out of Andrew House about The Last Guardian on Project Morpheus. You still have time to invest in more worthy causes, like sharing that Facebook prayer chain for Honduran Lemming farmers who need extra coats. It’s cold in those mountains I imagine they have.
Be the change for folk like me people. So that I might one day crack a smile when playing my totally free copy of Rock Band 4 with Metallica and remember what it’s like to be a real boy again.
Oh, and I played some game. It was alright. 6/10.