This is something of a rant, though I am loath to edit it as my feelings at the time were quite strong; while not wholly responsible for the success of an article, it is pretty useful.

I realise that the above is a rather dramatic title for what will essentially be an opinion piece. But I enjoy dramatic titles, and I think, beyond the post-modern hissy fits and the paeans for "popular" language, I will only isolate myself from those of you who own more stormtrooper breakfast flasks, can remember the idiotic callsigns of everyone in Battlestar Galactica, or (as you may see from my "About Me" section), can remember which planet the fucking Yuzzhan Vong are from. And so I will stick to what I know. And what I know is writing long-ass articles about the things I like, and why everyone else is starving them like a jealous Rotherford housewife whose neighbour's cat can fit through the catflap they bought at Ikea. You know, the faux-pine one that makes the nice thwump sound when something passes through it, like a cat or the housewife's fist holding a plastic saucer full of industrial-strength lye.

Oh well. I did it anyway. I am hoping that I will get a chance to explain the title, and speak about videogames as well. In fact, I am going to do so right away.



I am now reaching the age and the social inclination where I have absorbed a metric anal ton of culture. I do not use the phrase in an appraising fashion; culture is not a value term. It is what it is. And, bad or good, my position as a fairly well-off middle class product of the private school system in the Western world has placed me in a prime position to do some quality, old-fashioned, curiosity-borne earning. Here are some bad, and good, examples of what I have digested over my time from Oxford hospital (Where I have a memory of my father standing in the hall nervously eating a sausage roll; as I was squeezing into the waiting arms of a probably terrified intern, who most likely remembers my porcine, pleading eyes to this day, this is entirely fictitious, but now I cannot picture childbirth without it involving sausage rolls. It would probably improve the experience all round.) to jobless, failing poet, musician and ceramic hen enthusiast:

THE GOOD

- Videogames. Yes, videogames is culture. Not always good culture, but culture nonetheless. More on this later.
- The music of Sufjan Stevens. Say what you like - actually, no, you may not say what you like about him. Because your opinion is entirely moot, as his music is so cosmically undeniable as an art form, as a renaissance in pop music, as a astounding, self-taught achievement, that any denial of said facts would be rather like denying the existence of the pig whilst eating bacon. You fucking toolbag.
- Scotch Eggs. The American continent might hold the dripping, wheezing trophy when it comes to food that is colossal, food that is monstruously blunt and crass. If it was an armed force it would be... well, the American Armed Forces. But British food... we may sell it in tin wheely bins on the side of our depressingly brown little roads, but its deadliness is small, concealed, and inventive; a little known fact is that if you leave a Ginster's pasty long enough it will grow a handlebar mustache, impregnate all your female family members, and you won't mind a bit.
- The films of Peter Greenaway. Seriously, have you seen this bloke?



Well, he's just a bloke. But he made this and this, and we should be very thankful indeed.

And now, the bad.

THE BAD

There it is.

- Steak and Cheese.com. To call it a voyeuristic wank-fest of melting, insane sensibilities that presents an open palm to those curious teenagers who think that muscle tissue is a fun evening would be kind. I was one of those teenagers. I am better now.
- The Times Bestseller list. The lunatics have not just taken over the asylum, they have paralysed the guards with nerve gas, made them wear their accumulated feculance as a hat, and have convinced their wives to enter into a totally untenable and unreasonable joint pension scheme.
- Everyone loving Japan. This is really just jealousy on my part, as I wanted to go there first, but John Smith and those bloody Jesuits just had to be born at the correct time.

So, yes. I could go on. But I won't, because that is dull and attention-seeking. If I was graphically minded I would have had "videogames" straddling the two columns like a rather less impressive metaphor than the Colossus of Rhodes.

But I am not. And, on the whole, I love videogames. I always have. They are as much of a waste of time as books and music and films and love and making forts out of mashed potato when you are a child; that is to say, they are not a waste of time at all. They are vibrant, different, exclusive, inclusive, brash, subtle, literary, brainless, and gorgeous. Truly really shitting gorgeous.



I am taking a leaf from Kauz's blog and posting this picture because it illustrates the point. Also, the only pictures I could find of Crysis involved poultry.

But videogames are at an important stage. We are established. We are a culture all our own, spanning age groups, genres and the sheer prejudice that has weighed us down for years. We make all our pocket money back and then some, as an industry. We are accepted, and even clueless wonders are listening to what we have to say. We are Gutenberg with his first, gluey prints, we are the invention of the synthesiser, we are Hitchcock making an actress fat for the fun of it. We have arrived.

And haven't we done well?

That is what we think. We look back at all the achievements (and they are achievements), and we make the biggest mistake we ever could, exacerbated by the very modern phenomenon of total, endless media coverage, and total, endless, debate.

We are resting on our fucking laurels.

They are gorgeous laurels. So waxy, so full and green. You need only read my previous, rather excessive post on Zelda to see that I absolutely love tradition, and laurels, and proven style, and heritage, and all that marlarkey. I have tremendous respect for the systems that are in place that we all know and love. Though these may be superficial examples, here are a few of what I am writing about:

- the checkpoint and save system
- the health bar
- weaponry and death, in general, in videogames

A very small slice of the gamut pie.

The first thing I want to get out of the way is that videogames are art. There is no way around this. It is not an opinion. They have been created by humans, and there they are. Provoking us like the little sods they are. And the way that even the most insignificant game can stimulate the most hilarious poignancy is both ludicrous and quite wonderful. Games are art. We may not always like the art, but as long as some kid dreams about leading a team into a field to take turns stepping forward and twatting a rotary dryer with teeth, there will be a little, immortal piece of art, right there in his dull little noggin.

And so here we have it, our own little artform. A very new one, but one that has changed more in its lifetime than many other forms of art. The closest in terms of evolution, I would say, would be film; the common factor in these two examples is technology. The reliance that videogames has on technology means that the rate of growth in the two sectors are identical. The reason this laurel-resting has occurred is:

- the growth of technology is such that truly invasive investigations into the nature of gaming are impossible.
- the cost of development, as used to be the case with films, is so high that the art is segregated by cost, vision and reality, as well as market
- the birth of the internet and "gaming culture" as an organism means that every superficial facet of the industry is endlessly debated, rumours spread, and balance sheets read.

This is not to ignore those who have decided to shimmy us along the ledge. People like intelligent gaming commentators, N'gai Croal and his ilk; people like you, who every day post thousands of excellent, literate articles on the nature of our obsession. Indie developers, who squeeze every last drop of innovation from the tools they have to create excellent games (though that is not to say that all indie developers are evangelists; there is a huge corporate agenda in many cases, and to ignore it is rather immature).



The conventions I have mentioned, and hundreds more that one can see in 90% of titles released today, are not our friends. We must not feel obliged to continue them. We, the public, could make such an idea happen. We could demand new ideas, innovation, NEW SCIENCE! Not sequels. Not intellectual properties. Such a thing is horrid; if it produces good games this is not by virtue of itself. Making intellect into a commodity, while perhaps necessary in a business, is an ugly thing.

So, why change the convention? Why would one throw away the whole concept of acting, or lighting, or the camera altogether? Why does the health bar not do an adequate job of portraying vitality, or quick-time events an adequate job of skipping immensely exciting portions of playable game-time? Why would one want to throw away all the excellent, excellent titles being released every month?

Because they are single ideas. No society, or industry, or movement, or whatever you wish to call videogames, can subsist on a single idea. HUDs are beginning to make me weep. The genres are beginning to blur in the aisles.

What must we do to make people think? Where are those who will say "this isn't important anymore, it has been said too much, too often. You are too smug. You must keep building so that it never falls down."

The meaning of the title is two-fold. Gaming needs to die and be reborn. The innovators need to step in from the cold and throw their mittens (ace word) to the table and ask what the fuck motion control actually does; much like I am asking what 3D films actually do. What action do they take? Though you may argue such developments are developments, are they really? Are they really what we deserve? Is there not the money and the trillions of man hours available to really do something, to really say something, to really start something? Fuck, I might give my two cents in my next piece.

On the other hand, my title is a plea for us all to kill ourselves. Well, not quite, but I am having trouble with my running theme. I mentioned the bestseller lists; they exist. They are enjoyed. I do not enjoy them. I may be seen as a snob, or a bore, or just like every other pseud who thinks he expels fragant gusts of peachy air instead of stonking vegetable matter and dog vomit. But it is not a matter of quality of person. It is a matter of quality of product. The ability to push boundaries. The ability to really change things. Changing a control system is not an innovation. It is a method of experience. It is like saying that a new sofa makes Peter Greenaway a better filmmaker. It doesn't. It makes you comfy, and this is a damn fine thing in itself.

Obviously I do not wish for videogames to disappear and then rise phoenix-like; I enjoy these conventions, and they have their part to play. But we cannot allow them to be the entire industry. Without invention, we are nothing. We are smug children with a sense of entitlement larger than a sense of curiosity. And I know there are enough of us to care. I know that evolution is important to more than just a few of us.

When One Must Kill Himself, One Must Destroy What He Loves First. I love videogames, but I would interested to let them be destroyed, just to see what happens.