In part, the wasteland of The Waste Land is high culture. It’s the sprawling tradition of genius texts that have been shredded and strewn about by an increasingly shallow popular culture. T.S. Eliot would have hated video games.
Bioshock Infinite should actually be more violent, or at the very least, its violence should be treated with more gravitas. Either way, there shouldn’t be less violence, but there should be less combat.
The new Tomb Raider chronicles the birth of a survivor, but it's a story that is easier to see than it is to feel.
What is unique, perhaps, about Scarlet Blade is its extreme consciousness of the medium and how it exploits the medium to create what may be a new kind of pornographic experience. And it does so by acknowledging the player's role in the game as a player, not a mere voyeur.
Among all the masses of people attending PAX are an equal number of varied experiences and varied interests, some quite similar and others so fundamentally different that they don’t even begin at the same place. And somehow PAX finds a way to cater to them all.
The game opens with a prologue straight out of a hillbilly cannibal horror flick.
League of Legends' minute updates and additions ripple outward into hugely varied and surprisingly educational forms of play.
This is a game that provokes only existential angst in me through its reflection of endless maintenance within a system. I feel like if Franz Kafka had created a game, this would be exactly his kind of game.
By beating her down, has Crystal Dynamics successfully created a reasonable image of Lara Croft as a survivor?
All that artistry, all that texture work, all that effort put into a game that demands that I look the other way.