Chris' Holiday Gift Guide for Tweens and Younger

I really like video games. I enjoy books and movies and art and all that stuff, too. But it's video games that truly have my heart. All forms of art have the power to elicit emotions. Even better: those emotions vary from person to person! It's a fantastic aspect of human creativity to create media that speaks to everyone, but says something different each time. Video games take that a step further by allowing the consumer to participate.

However, it's only recently that the technology behind video games allowed for a dynamic experience. Dragon Age: Origins is my favorite game right now because the choices I make matter. I can truly play the game as I want. Each character in my party is a dynamic personality that responds to everything I do. I can create a strong friendship so we can fight shoulder-to-shoulder with confidence or I can make an enemy who will try to slay me in my sleep. This is a game that has real (virtual) consequences to all my decisions.

I am compelled to play this game because the characters are interesting enough that I start to think about what I do next. Sure, killing this person may be amusing, but what will Morrigan think? In that case, she probably wouldn't mind, but it's an extra bit of immersion that I love.

Great games are the ones that make me swear at defeat and cheer at victory. I want to win the big battles and beat the main bosses and be the Ultimate Badass of my virtual empire. It's the perfect catharsis to wade into a sea of virtual bad guys (one could imagine them as managers, exes, or former gym teachers) and demolish them all with my ultimate badass weapon of badassery.

I've been saying for years that I want more games that make me care about whatever I'm doing. I want to feel the character's pain and share their triumph. I played a game that makes me wonder if a line has been crossed.

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 is the sequel to my second-favorite First-Person Shooter (behind Halo) and has been more-than-a-little anticipated for a while now. The story: the uber-nationalist terrorists are bad and need to be destroyed.

MW1 took a bold chance by killing off a seemingly-main character early in the game. He gets caught in a nuclear explosion after stopping to rescue a stranded comrade. He didn't die immediately. You, the player, see the explosion and mushroom cloud just a moment before the pressure wave knocks your helicopter out of the sky. You wake up unable to walk, stranded in the smoldering chopper. You can crawl out to see the devastation, the razed homes and blown-out skyscrapers. All that's left is the swirling, Hellish wind that dares even stone to persist. And you. You keep crawling. Maybe there's a safer place to be. Maybe there's a health pack nearby (that magically survived). Maybe there's a checkpoint to reach. No, all that's left is death. You linger with your character as he gradually succumbs to burns and radiation before the screen goes white and the next level begins.

Nothing like that had ever happened before. Especially in an FPS. MW1 earned rave reviews for turning the players' perspectives and creating a new experience within a still-fantastic game.

MW2 keeps the momentum going, but with an interesting twist. As the game first boots up, the player is greeted with a disclaimer warning against objectionable material. That's pretty standard by now. After agreeing, the player gets another "are you sure?" sort of message. There's lots of ass-covering; I have to see what's gonna happen!

The second(-ish) level is the potentially-objectionable one in which the player--in deep cover--accompanies the uber-nationalist bad guys on their latest terrorist strike: powerful automatic weapons in a crowded airport.

Part of the success of MW1 is that it was, and still is, prescient. I've done some traveling recently and I have friends and family who travel quite often. For the first time in a long time, a video game made me uncomfortable. Even once the level loads, the player may pause and skip the level or simply not participate. There are hundreds of passengers.

I've never bought into most of the anti-video game rhetoric. Killing pixels is just different than killing people. The passengers are pixels and programming with no families, friends, pets, or soul. Inflicting enough mathematical damage so their renders are instructed to slump on the "floor" is a throw-away action for a gamer.

It was only afterward that I realized that's how our enemies see us. Perhaps sans the "mathematics" and "rendering" parts, but as, for all practical purposes, non-beings. It's a startling mindset to find and I know that it's a mindset that could be indoctrinated into the easily-influenced.

That said, I still don't believe video games are bad. Rather, they emphasize the importance of teaching kids right from wrong, real from fake as early as possible to keep fantasy from merging too permanantly with reality. Without that boundary, how does one perceive the "hordes of virtual bullies" that are so easily quashed in the game from just "the bully" tomorrow at school?

There's a reason video games come with ratings.