Like me, I’m sure you woke up one day bleary eyed, shooing away morning grumpites with 240 CC’s of coffee. You then sat down with your second, comfy-warm cup of happy to stare at an overwhelming list of games in your Steam client that yet-again provoked embarrassment and guilt. And then you see the latest deal, buy it, try it for 10 minutes and think how neat it would be to make a Let’s Play of it. So. You exit the game and go about the rest of your day, never really making time that day.
When you do go back, you realize you need to relearn all the controls and you forgot the story, which eats into your scant time you’ve set aside. Frustration bites and you move on. Two hundred and ten games and you’ve never really played the majority of them, let alone got anywhere substantial. It’s a strange anxiety brought on by the ease, accessibility and value of games mixed with numerous sources of large-scale sharing. I mean, let’s face it. Buying the games isn’t nearly as big a deal as buying the expensive computer parts, recording and editing software, microphone and other accessories to improve the quality of your recordings. A plausible dichotomy of consumerism and prosumerism.
A lot of us just want to consume a game. It’s a great past-time and relaxing. Some of us want to do something further with that game. We want an Instructables, DIY quality to the time we spend on it. Thus the mountains opened up and gave rise to Twitch, Forge and Sony Entertainment Network, among other services. I loved pontificating about the social minutia that sprang forth from playing MMOs. And I will continue to love focusing now on Indie and Retro gaming. The latter I think has already made me happier and less obnoxious.
It’s a little like our younger selves rifling through parts of songs to assemble the perfect mix
tape CD Spotify list. What year is it, again? But we’ve allowed aggravation to shoulder its way in and take up residence.
It’s a strange contradiction. We know we have it good. We live comfortable lives and have more pass-times than we think we ought to. Games rain on us like sugar-coated water-droplets from Heaven. We know this. We’re not daft, but we still complain about the way we cause our own anguish. My experience could be so much more with this game, so I don’t just play it. It might spoil the greater thing that could come out of it. No. No it won’t.
When lightning fizzled my brain-pan, I realized it’s just nonsensical stuff that I put in my way. Now, if I want to play something. I just play it. It doesn’t matter if I really want it to be on video. I’m not losing out on some kind of authenticity for an audience by having played a game already. And, sure, I can still hold back, but it’s less holding back and more putting one game to the side, while I still have two hundred and nine other games to occupy myself with, until I’m ready to give an audience an untainted experience of me panicking wildly while I try to play Outlast!
I apologize for this post not having much merit or point. I suppose a moral of the story might be: Just have fun, which sounds kind of empty, after reading over my scribblings. One more thing; I am having a bit of trouble sorting out my wordpress account(s), so I wouldn’t use my ancient moniker this post is tagged with to try and track me down. For now, the best places to find me are on Twitter and YouTube.