The Heads Up! Display Show

I’ve started to wonder if the entire entertainment industry has a yearly barbecue pot-luck dinner in which movie moguls, A&R big-wigs, and television hot-shots get together and plot out the new hotness; talking for hours, and going over demographics to figure out what this new hotness is.  The video game industry is sort of that out-of-place in the arena of entertainment.  Sure, the industry rakes in tens of billions of dollars yearly, but the industry is still niche.  Though they’ll never admit it in a million years, your typical jocks or “ew, icky games are gross” type of people are still gamers if they own a PS3, XBox or Wii.

The industry is wise to this, so they have devised a clever little plan to rake in more gamers and more cash.  It wasn’t hard for them to figure it out: People like numbers at the end of titles, people like boobs; and the only thing they love more than boobs are big, phallic, throbbing guns.  With this simple formula in place, they’ve been able to release titles that hit people in the mouth.  Punch-drunk, and loving it, these people are able to swallow big-name title after big-name title.   The industry has gone through its growing pains, and now it is able to fire off on all cylinders like a clock-work project monolith; it is impartial to human emotion; always seeing, and always knowing.

A group of weary games journalists have woken up from the dream in which they have been living in.  They had grown accustomed to their dates with PR, in-studio tours, and late-night binge drinking on the tab of Phony Computer Entertainment (Names have been replaced to protect the guilty).  These brave journalists stood up and stated a creed; eloquent in its simplicity, and yet gravely profound to those who have ears to hear, “We shall not stand for shitty, derivative video games.”  Their battle-cry rang violently across the plains, and it shook the very foundation of the industry monolith.  The industry was awe-struck by the valor of these wordsmiths.  They felt as though the earth beneath them could collapse at any second.  That is, until the monolith developed a mind for which it could use to adapt to any situation.   You see, the industry began fighting a battle on two fronts.  The journalists were proving to be quite bothersome, but a new threat loomed over the country-side bearing a banner named Indie.  The industry knew that it surely fall if these terrorist cells gained enough influence to turn their own slaves (the gamers) against them.  The industry knew that this two-front war would be impossible; they devised a plan that would be fool-proof: Ally the journalists with the independent game developers; make them fall in love with each other so that a sleeper agent can be placed within their ranks.

And the plan could not have worked more perfectly.  The plan worked three-fold: The industry would cannibalize itself to give the journalists fodder that will distract them from the big-picture.  Second, activate the sleeper agent to act like an independent game developer, but with full financial and PR backing from the monolith.   And finally the third act was ready.  The coup de grace was to restore the act of making derivative video games.

It’s very easy to see how evil the mind of the industry became.  By the time a new generation of journalists came about, it was too late for them to think for themselves.  The irony of this story is how the journalists still yearn for originality, but their senses have been dulled to a fine spoon.  This is how the industry did this:  It created a war within itself.  It allowed one part of itself to be inferior to the others.  This was integral to the entire plan.  I might even go as far as to say that this was the crux of the plan all along.  This was a very easy countermeasure to the journalists because the inferior part was once the dominating force.  One might say that this was the monolith itself at one point, but only if legend serves correctly.  This inferior part would anger the journalists, because it served them well at one point.  Next, the monolith activated the sleeper agent known as ‘Bustion Woman (Names have been changed to protect the guilty, once again fanboys say “woot”).  This game was disguised as a small indie project, but this project received the royal treatment.  One journalist (God, bless him, we’ll call him Angel Shoemountain) fell into this trap and attempted to champion this big-budget title as the true indie weapon against the evil monolith.  He was blind to the irony of his situation.  Fate became a cruel mistress.

Next, the rise of publishing power-house Lazyhearing (okay it is Activision. They don’t need to be protected). Activision’s revenue came from only three videogames, and this should have angered the journalists; but, the games from this publisher received high praise from these same journalists.  They fell for this clever ruse hook, line, and quicksand.  The journalists couldn’t be marked for their mistake, so they had to think quickly: Let’s name smaller games as derivative, and stupid.  This will confuse the public and keep our journalistic integrity intact.  Smaller games did emerge.  And, mind you, these were good, quality games that deserved positive publicity.  But the journalists, with their reputation on the line, spat in the faces of these meager developers hoping to break into the industry.  These games were not perfect, but they were good.  Since the journalists were distracted, they had to give these games a red-letter label of derivation.   A solid “D” was the stigma that beset these game developers.  Everywhere they went, they heard the same thing “Like God of War, but…”  “Like Final Fantasy, but…” “Like The Legend of Zelda, Metroid, and Castlevania; (etc. ad nauseum) but…”  This was the new creed of the videogame journalists.  Nobody knew how far they fell.  Nobody could know, for the ramifications would be great.

So this is the state of the game, young reader.  The once strong videogame journalists are divided, and almost conquered.  The monolith is grinding away, strong as ever.  I can only hope that you can pass along these fleeting words of advice.  A modest proposal, if you will.

—A Modest Proposal from a Gamer Who Cares—

Dearest videogame journalists,

I know this letter comes at trying times, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  As I write this, I am filled with dread; the present state of games journalism is anemic.   I have heard the words from everyone, and I have been deep in thought.  I could not write until I figured out a plan that could help us rise again in the face of the dark monolith known as “The Industry.”  I know you are betwixt your thoughts, a duality you have been regrettably forced to live in.  I feel fortunate that I have not yet “made it” as a journalist, and perhaps this perspective may help you reestablish your, our, once proud nation.

I hate to say this, but your willingness to view the world in shades of gray has clouded your judgment.  You have been entrapped by your own words, the very words you seemingly wield.  You seem like masters of your craft at one moment, and motley fools the next.  This is because the industry has direct control over you.  I shudder at those words, and I hope you feel the same way.  I have been on the verge of anger, but I know that anger will solve nothing at all.  I was so enraptured by my anger that I couldn’t write for months on end.  I was consumed with such fury that I couldn’t bring the words that I wanted to say to the front of my lips.  I had to stand back for a moment.  I had to stand back, and watch the suffering that happened around me.

Through this time of contrition, I mustered enough conviction to create concrete countermeasures thanks, in part, to concise citations.  It’s so simple: Gears of War is Winback, God of War is Smash TV, and Final Fantasy is Ultima with jobs; furthermore, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare is Space Invaders, Trials HD is Excite Bike; ‘Splosion Man is Portal, which is N+; which is Mega Man who is Mario with an arm cannon.  The truth cannot be unseen, nor can it be unheard.   If we are to win against the monolith, we must embrace the derivative nature of videogames, of entertainment in general.  It’s absolutely foolish to keep going down this same track of accepting videogames that are derivative, and rejecting games that are also derivative.  However, it’s not that simple.  We must use the Monolith’s same weapon against it.  We must outright reject that which we must embrace.  It will be a hard adjustment to make.  The monolith was able to adapt to us, because it is unfeeling.  We are people with real emotions.  We care about our craft, and what we cover, with the ferocity of a lion protecting its pride.  But we must stand vigilant.  If we are to win, every single big-budget title must be labeled, and spat on; it must be beaten and bruised.  No matter the name attached to the software, we must reject it cold-heartedly.  It is the only way that we can win.

We must remind the gaming public constantly about what they are playing.  We must tell them that they are consuming an abomination.  If they check the review for the latest Call of Duty game, they must be told that it is Madden.  When Mass Effect 3 comes out, we must tell them it is Knights of the Old Republic meets Hamlet (Spoilers: Everybody dies. I just spoiled ME2 & ME3 for you ^_^).  And what about Splinter Cell: Conviction?  It must be pounded into every gamer’s skull that the game sucks because it is every Splinter Cell, Metal Gear Solid, Legend of Zelda, and Mega Man game rolled into one.  And every one of these games must receive a 7.9 or below (or if you’re using the Star Scale: 3 Stars, no more.)  It has been scientifically proven that games that receive a 7.9 or below sell shit (but there are rare occasions where that is not so).   It is this new belief that will cause the monolith to go through a full restart.  You see, the industry has divided you over time.  Now, with a singular vision, we will move forward.   With any luck, this letter can be held under-wraps.  If this movement can fly below the radar, we may just have a chance, a hope in Hell.

Sincerely,

Daniel Wise

P.S. We’re doing this for every franchise except for Street Fighter. That shit is tight.