A slight breeze ruffles through my hair as I prepared my descent into the unknown beyond. It caressed my already disheveled hair as I turned to face it’s origin, causing braids of hair strewn together by a mixture of blood and sweat to flutter about, rearranging themselves atop my head.
But nothing ever changes – it’s still a mess, much like my life – and this world.
Unless I just do this one thing.
I’m going to save the world.
A virtual world. And the wind is definitely no ocean breeze – just mechanised ventilation, Venting away the heat that has been building up in the room. Partly coming from the computer with its tell-tale hums and whirls, and partly from me – sitting on the edge of my seat, clicking away at my keyboard and mouse. Consequently, every now and then, I look out of the room’s window and wonder how all this came to be.
“Oh god, he’s being existential again.”
Ha, not quite.
Sometimes I do wonder how I came to be the way I am – a socially awkward man who spends a majority of his free time voluntarily playing games. I have enough geek t-shirts to last me for 2 weeks, and my fashion sense is unorthodox and unremarkable. My muscles look underdeveloped, consequently I look like a stretched 14 year old manchild.
Which is probably fitting for someone like me, as the general consensus deems – video games are for children. An immature past time for those whose frontal lobes have not fully developed – consequently a skin bag of unregulated testosterone with a misplaced air of superiority.
And with Call of Duty, collectively with it’s toxic community being our most visible representatives, it’s difficult to break out of the damning stereotype. It’s hard to argue when you know that these stereotypes have to come from somewhere, and even harder to welcome when some of them strike a little too close to heart.
Back when I was an innocent child, knowing nothing of the dangerous allure of video games, I watched my brothers giggling at the huge CRT screens. I couldn’t entirely see what was going on, but I could tell that they were having fun – and I wanted in. Tip-toed, I surveyed what I could behold: a strange moving image with little men and cars moving around.
I couldn’t grasp the situation, nor appreciate whatever was going on at that time, but I knew nothing was going to stop me from getting my hands on it.
It stuck to be further that I would expected it to.
Soon, my life revolved around gaming. My parents described it as a spiral into decadence as I devoted more and more time into this hobby. I gave up going out on saturday mornings with my playmates, and prefered to have our adventures online.
Our parents find this zealotry sinister, but also puerile: how can almost childish fantasies occupy the adolescence? When they were our age, they did things differently and held a lot more responsibility. They played outside and occasionally indulged in good television.
And So It Happens
But our parents are also capable of a small chill of apprehension, a chilling thought lingers on the back of their mind: Could video gaming damage my child? A haunting hymn that drives our parents to nights of insomnia, only to be acknowledged by thousands of television personalities.
The prevailing mentality of whom still holds apprehension towards video games paints it a picture of barbaric apes, carnal flesh and outlandish quirks. It conjures up images of celebration in the all the violent splendors, the voices of rage and triumph, to the vainglorious showcase of one’s presumed ability.
I wanted to fight back, to tell them that they’re wrong: I’m just having fun. It doesn’t deserve the puritanical hellfires it is currently being doused in. And yet I am unable to fight back coherently, with a basic knowledge in writing exposition and argumentative – I couldn’t even write a decent thesis to save my life.
A question arises: would video gaming pull through these dark days, will television and radios have? Surely, but slowly.
Of all the accusations a majority of the former generation have been throwing about, would video gaming lead to the decadence of our youth? With the average gamer being 37 years old, it justifies quite exactly the fear that the opposition feels as they watch our community expand into a massive hog of online citizens, not only hesitant of productivity, but of socializing and even stepping out of the house.
Are deviant tastes destructive?
Does the failure of our society consist in the fact that such behavior is tolerated and openly practiced? Surely – the contrary, unless it comes with symptoms of moral obliviousness.
But keep in mind that binge recreation, regardless of activity, would generally attract disapproval.