I’m not playing Hearthstone: Doctor Who and Vinnie Mac got me covered (for a 1-2-3)

When I were a young ‘un the Star Wars films were re-released in the cinema. I went with the Beaver Scouts and found myself watching A New Hope, despite actually wanting to see Who Framed Roger Rabbit-aping basketball extravaganza Space Jam. You see: our lovely-yet-rapidly-aging leaders thought a film about a traffic jam in space would be a bit boring for a bunch of eight year olds, which is fair enough, however off-target their interpretations of the conspicuously vehicle-free poster were. At the same time the lovely people at Walkers crisps decided that all the children, regardless of their moviegoing preferences, would benefit from sharing in the great warmth generated by the beloved cinematic series. They started hiding little plastic Pog-like disks in bags of their delicious snacking aids, all of which were emblazoned with a precious image from the hallowed Star Wars history books. I never managed to get a full set of fifty, but that wasn’t really the point; I satiated my internal hunger to seek stability and security for a bit and managed to help a $10billion-plus corporation achieve its lofty profit goals for the year. That’s a win-win all day long in my mind.

Game Dev Story is a bit mean to its staff, int it?

Wolfenstein 3D, Custer’s Revenge, Ethnic Cleansing , Super Columbine Massacre RPG!, that game where you shoot JFK: all are examples of aspects of the real world being looked at through the lens of video games. They’re all - to differing extents and in their own ways - difficult to laude as works of high (even low, in most cases) art or defend as rounded, fair or (maybe) even worthwhile endeavours. They are all button-pressers: games that wear their controversy-courting intentions proudly on their sleeves (sometimes just above an insignia-emblazoned armband). While the first two examples are merely sillily offensive, it’s that all five are grounded in very explicit real world contexts - as part or complete recreations of specific events and happenings - that imbues them their power to wilfully shock and/or disgust. Game Dev Story isn’t like any of these because it hasn’t a divisive bone in its body. It does, however, centre itself on a very real world industry, and by doing so is actually quite mean in the process, if, of course, you’re inclined to look at it that way (which I am, just so you know).

Stumbling around in the dark: Metro 2033 with the English turned off

Metro 2033 is a tale of survival, hope and skulking. It’s an atmospheric and affecting, sometimes scary, sometimes tense, rewarding and exciting look at life after a (you guessed it) nuclear holocaust. Most of all, though, without the English dubbed dialogue it’s a surreal duck into a world of half-whispers, confusion and mistaken identity.

The ability to remember aspects of popular culture is a skill that’s lost to me. ‘Remember how great that line was in that film we watched a decade ago? It was right striking wasn’t it? To the point where after hearing it only once we can now quote it verbatim and will do so forever.’ “Well no, not really my old hypothetical chum. I certainly won’t be ‘cos I forgot it almost the instant it was spoken in favour of paying attention to the intervening years of my life. Sorry to have put us both in this very awkward position.” Quotes, scenes and overarching narratives can all be heard ‘round water coolers the world over. Some boffins can even remember and render entire video game maps from memory; a feat which I find admirably super-human. I though, am rubbish at remembering stuff.

Big game hunter: Our inability to hold games to equal standards (when they nick stuff from each other)

Last week Our Zach Alexander pulled the still-warm corpse of the last round of !!CLONING scandal!! discussions from our collective freezer and got me thinking about it all over again. Channelling Mattie Brice as if by séance from earlier in the year, he discussed the ugly head-rearing of the double standards we often encounter when the contentious topic of cloning is raised. Both Alexander and Brice are quick to identify that decrying something as a clone is a heavily subjective act, and that how one approaches the debate and frames their standpoint within it is highly reflective of their ideals both politically and humanistically. I’d like to take their sentiments and step back just a little, if I may, and try to unpack the contradictions surrounding why it’s often, but by no means always, seen as damnable to wear inspiration on one’s sleeve.