Start Lindsay Lohan’s The Price of Fame and you see a randomly selected quote about the nature of fame– in the same way that Call of Duty used to show you a pithy (and often anti-war) quote about the nature of armed conflict after you died, before the game put you back into the action.
What the king in front of the dining table doesn’t realize (or what he does realize and doesn’t want to be reminded of) is that it doesn’t matter much what dishes he actually chooses every night. What matters is that the ritual of the dinner spread will repeat tomorrow, and the next day, and on forever.
The Facebook post announcing a new game jam to be hosted by the Phoenix chapter of the International Game Developers Association generated many more comments than items like it usually did. It was because the jam had a corporate sponsor.
Next up: just how funny can a mug be? Channel 5’s Dean Herbert has the story. Dean?
Sterling snorted reflexively and shifted to a certain even-handed bass register he used with small children and guests. “Ah. Games criticism. You’ve been reading again, have you?”
This is not to say that real human interactions are not ritualized to the point of mechanic in some ways, but that procedural rhetoric about human life nearly always makes a specific argument: life works this way, life works that way.
The problem with today’s big-budget video games is not that they aren’t Citizen Kane– it’s that they are too much like Citizen Kane.
What is the purpose of a game? For some it may be entertainment. For others, fun. Still others are looking for an experience unlike any other.
Every fancy new game has had its graphics, its “combat”, its whole engine built or re-built “from the ground up”.