Gears of Marketing
By now we've all been completely immersed into the hype, the banner ads, the reviews, and the mystery that is "Gears of War". I neither own an Xbox 360 nor have played the game and *I'm* already really pumped about it. Did you know it's a video game?
Not only that, but it involves guns? Really, it does. Everything else is irrelevant.
So, it would appear that instead of your next game-night everyone should all just buy copies of game to physically ingest and then emit penetrating beams of perfect light from your eyes. Who's up for it? I already have my flowing robes picked out and dry-cleaned, ready for the event.
Really, this *is* a game I'd like to check out. If anything it'd be for the chance to attempt to play it for a few moments only to give up in frustration. But then I'll gleefully giggle in sickening delight as a friend lays waste to the gameboard in a furious hail of gunfire. For me, it's all like watching some spontaneously created movie at which my yelling at the screen actually creates change in the narrative.
My initial appreciation of any game is firstly the joy I get at mashing the controls feverishly and the rush that comes when something of use or purpose comes from it. On every other level, it's watching a game being played normally or even with great proficiency when someone else takes helm of the plastic divining talisman. Under my control, the characters spasm and lurch around blindly shooting at objects and people, some of them by chance being my foes. In the hands of a seasoned gamer the screen flickers with a sort of magic; an artistic dance of slaughter and coin-collection replete with sounds, colours, and lights.
To me, gaming is not solely about the mashing, bashing, and power-ups. Instead it's become more of a social atmosphere where we are all unified in a shared adventure in a dazzling dreamscape. That and the chance to blow up the Red Team and run-over hookers in a stolen low-rider.
Not only that, but it involves guns? Really, it does. Everything else is irrelevant.
So, it would appear that instead of your next game-night everyone should all just buy copies of game to physically ingest and then emit penetrating beams of perfect light from your eyes. Who's up for it? I already have my flowing robes picked out and dry-cleaned, ready for the event.
Really, this *is* a game I'd like to check out. If anything it'd be for the chance to attempt to play it for a few moments only to give up in frustration. But then I'll gleefully giggle in sickening delight as a friend lays waste to the gameboard in a furious hail of gunfire. For me, it's all like watching some spontaneously created movie at which my yelling at the screen actually creates change in the narrative.
My initial appreciation of any game is firstly the joy I get at mashing the controls feverishly and the rush that comes when something of use or purpose comes from it. On every other level, it's watching a game being played normally or even with great proficiency when someone else takes helm of the plastic divining talisman. Under my control, the characters spasm and lurch around blindly shooting at objects and people, some of them by chance being my foes. In the hands of a seasoned gamer the screen flickers with a sort of magic; an artistic dance of slaughter and coin-collection replete with sounds, colours, and lights.
To me, gaming is not solely about the mashing, bashing, and power-ups. Instead it's become more of a social atmosphere where we are all unified in a shared adventure in a dazzling dreamscape. That and the chance to blow up the Red Team and run-over hookers in a stolen low-rider.
