We had ourselves a dandy little argument break out in the office Wednesday morning. Jamie Kelly was extolling the virtues of the new version of the hyper-violent Grand Theft Auto, noting that he’d played the game for five hours. That struck Rob Chaney as a colossal waste of time, not to mention the potential danger he felt it posed to Jamie’s brain.
Their conversation got pretty interesting, so we asked them to go toe-to-toe here at 360. We’d love to hear what you all think of games like GTA IV. Innocent fun or violence provoking? What say you, Missoula?
By the way, look for Jamie’s piece about the game in Friday’s Unwind section
Jamie,
When you told me you spent five hours yesterday playing “Grant Theft Auto IV,” my gut cramped.
I’ve never played “GTA,” or spent any time with contemporary video games (except an early multi-player version of Doom). So I confess ignorance from the outset. But I question the personal value you gain by spending that much time on an activity that concentrates on virtual violence and greed.
As a highly talented musician, you have the ability to play and enjoy your instruments in pursuit of music at a level at least as fulfilling as your ability to play video games. Both music and video gaming are relatively solitary, intellectual experiences. What does playing “GTA” do for you that music does not? And is it worth the side-effects of marinating your mind in death and depravity?
Given what we know of Abu Ghraib prisoner abuse and school house shootings and You-Tube beat-downs, what’s the value of pursuing the virtual experience of the same? I read about “The Lord of the Flies” to better understand how humans are prone to the horrific sides of our nature. But I don’t want to go to the island.
I should confess that I do believe in violent solutions to some problems. I think fighting implies failure of better, more constructive problem-solving efforts. But I accept the necessity of knowing how to fight, violently if necessary, for what I believe in. I don’t believe in living like a violent social outcast, and don’t see much value in learning to behave like one.
Prudishly yours,
Rob
Rob,
“Grand Theft Auto IV” is fun. Fun as hell. Easily the best game I’ve ever played.
I play, Rob, whether it’s the piano or my PlayStation, because it’s fun. My fingers move, my attention is commanded, my eyes are wide open.
I spent five hours last night exploring the vast and breathing world of “GTA IV,” perhaps the same amount of time I’d spend with a new Chopin waltz at first reading.
The game is violent, no doubt. But so is “The Godfather.” So is “A Farewell to Arms.” I read the latter in eighth grade, shocked at the bunker scene.
Yes, you are a prude. And what do prudes do? They spit on all the fun everyone else is having. They degrade our art, calling it a waste of time, calling it mind-corrupting, calling it whatever else they need to do to trash our levity. They’ve been doing it long before Pac-Man hit the arcades. They’ve been doing it probably since the first cave-boy discovered throwing rocks in the water was more fun than skinning dinner. They are the Luddites of the soul.
“GTA IV” is filled with “violence and greed,” as you say, but prudes only focus on the unsavory aspects of this franchise and others like it. I know you like “Star Wars,” Rob, and did you know how many innocent men and creatures were killed on that Death Star? How can you be a party to that, Rob? Did you cheer in your heart?
Yes, it’s ME doing the killing in “GTA IV,” but it’s also me doing the decision-making: To kill or not, to have mercy or not, to unearth, uncover, understand this stunning virtual world. To solve. I am not, as you say “learning to behave like a social outcast.” I am learning to explore and solve problems. To use logic. In this game, it just so happens that problem-solving sometimes (but hardly always) involves a bullet to the head.
You say you question the “personal value” I gain by spending so much time playing “GTA IV.” Why is it that there is a segment of the population that wants everyone to be a egoless humanities major, a navel-gazing self-reflective philosopher who doesn’t know how to have fun?
Fun, Rob. Surely you’ve heard of it.
Jamie
Jamie,
Sticks and stones may break my bones, so I expected more of that and less name-calling. “Egoless humanities major,” ” Luddite of the soul,” “navel-gazing self-reflective philosopher”? I think I’m getting a blister.
I like fun. I spend a lot of energy in pursuit of fun. I support others having fun too. So let’s talk about GTA4. What kind of fun is it?
Playing chess is a war game, and it’s fun. But while I know a pawn attacks a knight diagonally because that’s how the real foot soldier’s pike best skewered the horse, the game gives me space to concentrate on strategy and tactics, not dripping horse intestines and armor-clad popsicles.
And yes, I cheered when the Death Star minions went super-nova. But I also gasped when Obi-wan sliced off the guy’s arm in the bar. Why did George Lucas show that bloody arm, but skip the shot of clouds of dismembered body parts floating through space? Because he and every great movie director knew that too much blood and guts deadens the impact and stalls the story. It’s a waste of effort.
So when you assume I want to take away your fun and respond with a name-calling tirade, I’d say I’m justified in wondering about how you’re “learning to explore and solve problems. To use logic,” as you put it. I once thought pulling the wings off of flies was fun. My pursuit of fun hasn’t changed, just my standards and preferences.
The other night, I was watching “Desperado.” It remains one of my favorite movies, for its visual style, tense story-telling, and yes, its whiz-bang violence. But toward the end, my 10-year-old son showed up just at the scene when a really bad guy gets his demise by taking a truck to the face and then going for a drag.
Martin’s response was “Whoa - I didn’t need to see that.”
My concern with GTA4 is a matter of degree. How much do you need to see, to virtually experience? At what point does your pursuit of fun deaden your soul? Don’t tell me you can simply compartmentalize it. The whole premise of advertising is that if they show you the product enough, they can change your mind.
Rob
Rob,
As long as you’re hopelessly stuck on the violent aspect of GTA IV, let me wade into that pool of blood hip-deep.
There is no evidence that violent video games cause real-world violence. Zero. Zip. Quite the opposite, in fact. In the time since such games were introduced, youth violence in this country has plummeted. I’m not suggesting causality, just stating a fact.
Does GTA IV need to be violent? Of course not. But its hyper-exaggerated brand of bloodletting is undeniably attractive to people who wish to easily slip into a fake, alternate universe for a little reptilian-brain fun. I am one of those people. Cut in front of me in traffic, will ya? Well, Mr. Driver, meet Mr. Uzi. It’s a devilish outlet for our aggressive tendencies, and it is quite satisfying.
You ask “what kind of fun” is GTA IV? Let me tell you about the sandbox.
Remember the sandbox as a kid? Surely you do – and there’s a reason that GTA IV and other games like it are from what is called the “sandbox” genre of gaming.
You can do, literally, whatever you want to do: take a rocket-propelled grenade and blast a hole in police department HQ, drive anywhere, walk anywhere, fly a helicopter over the city. And let me clue you in on the GTA series: You can also participate in “wholesome” activities, like grabbing a slice of pizza, playing a game of pool or darts, or going on a polite date. If that’s your thing. For me, it’s boring. Why? Because I can do that crap any time I want to in the real world.
Would I want a child playing this game? Certainly not. But we’re talking about consenting adults here.
So the next time you get all indignant about a video game, please remember: Every day in the United States, there are lots of grown men who dress up in medieval armor and have mock battles with swords. In real life, even.
Go pick on them for once.
Jamie
