The topic of the day (as well as the week and the month and the year) is Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. Oh boy.
The past three to four years has seen the floodgates open up. What was once the domain of the PC is fast becoming that of the consoles. The first-person shooters have exploded on the charts and I... am not happy about that. Not the most popular opinion around these parts, but in the same way you guys look upon the minigame packs and the Suzie Homemaker portable pap with disdain, I feel uncomfortable by the popularity of the shooter genre.
Am I not trying hard enough? Have I just not played the right games? I don't know, but they all start to blend together for me. I feel no connection whatsoever. How can I? I'm a floating gun barrel. How do I relate to that? It's all so impersonal. That guy over there? Point that circle over him, push a button, and BOOM! He's dead. Like divine judgment. Just look at something at it dies. What a power trip.
So... Modern Warfare 2. Wooo. Here we go. Biggest game of the year. Whoop-de-shit. Hold me, the excitement is too great. Another bombastic Jerry Bruckheimer prouction where the viewer can feed instructions to a disembodied hand which will in turn spark carnage and mayhem for the spectator's wonderment.
You know what? The next time I go to a party and someone wants to bust out some Call of Duty or Halo or whatever, I'm going to offer a better alternative: