The Times: Now available in tabloid flavour!

There’s not a lot that can be said about the childish ramblings of a Mr. Giles Whittell that isn’t going to come across as being equally hateful and daft, so i’ll try and keep it brief. Actually, scrap that – you won’t be able to see it of course, but over the last 10 minutes I’ve attempted to sum up my feelings towards the article about six or seven times – and the only ones that really seems to do it justice consists of two words and begin with ‘ignorant’.

But let’s keep it clean eh? For the kids at least?

Well, someone’s got to think about the children, haven’t they Mr. Whittell? Not too long ago I too was a child being taken on wonderful holidays and ignorantly keeping my nose pressed against the screen of a Game Boy, passing through beautiful scenery as my Pokemon slowly traipsed up towards level 100. Of course my parents weren’t best pleased, and they’d have rather I shared their enthusiasm as we walked through epic galleries and museums. But I wasn’t interested in these things. Maybe It’s not something to be proud of, but all of my fondest holiday memories almost entirely consist of:

What I had to eat.

What games I played.

My parents buying me a Game Boy Color in San Francisco. Playing on a Sega Saturn at Epcot. Discovering (eerily for my parents) that I knew the layout of the Metropolitan Museum of art despite having never been to New York before… Later realizing I’d played through it on Rainbow Six. Exploring a ruined chapel in France that was almost identical to the Tower of Babel as depicted in Soliel on the Megadrive was mind-bendingly amazing for an 11 year old. These are just a few of the many magical moments in my life which gaming has been a part of. Oh, and did I mention my excellent general knowledge and logical abilities? Hate to blow my own trumpet here, but when someone’s pissing in the other end of it you’ve little choice…

You see Mr. Whittell, becoming immersed in games isn’t a one-way door… The experiences you have and the things you see and do will stay with you for the rest of your life. You champion the outdoors as being a pure and wonderful place, but you will never look at it in the way I do- because you sir will never play Viva Pinata.

It’s a dark world out there, and if you restrict the imagination of your children by keeping them away from good literature, films, and games- then how will they have the tools they need to look at the mundane and paint it magical?

I’ve wasted much of my life playing games admittedly, but as a result I’ve got a head full of lovely words and colours. Beats smack and teenage pregnancy, eh?