More Than a Game

Disclaimer: Extensive use of Halo terminology

The video game industry has come across a good deal of flak these days, some found in its obsession with making and remaking WWII first person shooters and that from real life human critics. The first is easily dealt with but the latter is an issue that gets more complicated as the gaming world progresses. I speak in the defense of the video game.

Those attacking the virtual game culture do not play the games themselves; do they have the right to criticize what they can't understand? They spend all their time making people feel as through their life were meaningless but their main purpose is to hide the fact that they know their own life is as useful as an 8-track in Tokyo. The critics say that all video game aficionados are nerds and losers who could better use their time trying to solve and combat meaningful problems not found in a hard drive. They do not seem to understand that video games have become a huge means of social interaction and are sometimes the sole reason that these nerds and losers have not killed themselves already.

When I moved away for college, I came armed with an array of electronic devices at my disposal: a laptop, stereo, XBOX, alarm clock, shaver, and a few others. Can you guess the single most important gadget that I brought along? If you guessed shaver, then you obviously value hygiene too much and should culture yourself by living a week in a dormitory. The correct answer would be the XBOX, the A+ would go to those who answered the XBOX with the game Halo 2 that was equipped with a system link. This, more than anything else, has helped me meet some of the greatest guys I have ever known.

Although some of the other residents of Yosemite Tower 1 may not enjoy the screams of pwning or the wails of being pwned, they are the communists that are trying to destroy America's freedom and deserve to be stuck with a plasma grenade to the face. Why should they care if our dinner conversations consist of how many n00bs we sniped, how incredibly awesome Halo 3 will be, or if Master Chief were a real person he would use his radar to hunt down and kill every terrorist on the planet with a swift beat down. A mastery of this game is essential if you want to be anyone in today's society. It can toughen up the feeblest of individuals to face the fiercest of problems that one encounters on a daily basis in the college world. It is to our generation what golf is to businessmen. It is the one true benchmark of progress.

If anyone wishes to continue with the criticism of video games I invite them to the second floor of Yosemite Tower 1 at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo and either pwn-up or shut-up.

God Save the Queen's Physically Fit Children.

I was fortunate enough this spring break to experience life in the Old World. Well, not so much experiencing life but at least seeing it. My flight (that I shared with darling little infant Satans) brought me to Land of Tea and Crumpets and Nation of Stuck-up Waiters who get Their Asses Kicked by Nazis in Half an Hour. Both these places were quite interesting to observe, more interesting to converse with their people, and the most interesting to converse with these people when they have had too many beers. The cities were crammed full of old architecture, artwork, and culture and still managed to acquire a modern lifestyle. There was such a beautiful difference from the United States.

Yet there was one particular detail that smacked me right in the blooming face and I didn't like it one bit; where were all the fat kids?! There was a moment when I almost broke down in a panic attack when I boarded a subway car full of uniformed schoolchildren who weren't eating a single candy bar or Big Mac amongst themselves. I had to avert my eyes, as I surely would have expelled my morning feast of bacon and beans onto their properly fitted forms. When I had regained myself I went through all the possible reasons as to how such a horrific pandemic had swept this once great empire.

The fist thing that came to mind was that the country just didn't have enough food to feed its people. It made perfect sense; I mean it does seem to have a much larger population that it can possibly farm for. Every restaurant I had been to always served portions that never quite filled you up but never left you feeling hungry. I'm sure it must be worse for those common citizens who could not afford to eat in restaurants for every meal. It was obvious they did do a bit more walking than the common American child due to their efficient public transportation system that hindered the creation of a soccer (or shall I say football) mom class. But this minor physical assertion of walking should find an easy fattening solution from the holier than God chocolate that they have in every convenience store on every street. I doubt I will ever be able to eat another pathetic excuse that Hershey's calls chocolate here in the States. Cookies n' Crème? Try Cookies n' Crap! That brown gold they have over there would blow away the cocaine market if it ever decided to cross the Atlantic. But I digress.

What I am trying to call to attention is that these people need our help. They may not be starving like Africa, (we'll get to them some day I'm sure) but they just aren't plump. I felt ashamed and guilty for living in such luxury while I looked at the children of our mother country and their absence of double chins. As I boarded the train to take me away from this place I stopped by a vending machine chock full of scrumptious treats and bought one. I was about to give it to the poor blissfully ignorant child to my right but when I saw his crooked tooth smile, I knew that candy bar would do no good in fattening him, and I solemnly took a bite.

The Plague.

It's not every day that you start to itch all over and huge red plateaus start to grow from your skin. Today must not be every day. This inconvenience of mine just started with a scratchy head and arms and eventually led to where I am now, conquered. But leprosy is not the only thing to visit me today. The kindness of others has too, and has more than anything else, prompted me to write this message.

So I've lived with these people since September, and the bondage and comraderie that is felt between us all is stonger than that of a covalent bond (yes, I live with engineers). Some of the kindness and sympathy that I have encountered today has rivaled that of a true family, and I can say this with strong conviction. All they did was give me some lotion but it touched my heart. The help offered, selfless caring, and deep emotional concern was all so genuine that the only option I have is to attempt to share it with others through writing. Now, if I had all the time I needed I would gladly sit here and write some poetry. Unfortunately, it ain't happenin', but I will leave with this:

Of all the people I have met on the road
Only a few have touched my soul
But they have made the grandest difference.

Take me down to the paradise city...

Back in the concrete tower that I have finally accepted to call home. Yosemite Tower 1, Grand Ave. San Luis Obispo, 93410-2300. Quite glad to see everyone, from my roomate to the ultrasound picture of our future member of the tower in 7 months. I am still shocked how much crap you can fit in a 19' x 8' room and still have room to sleep on a bed.

The Christmas, 'scuse me, Winter Break was a great time too. It was nice to not have any readings/assignments/work at all to do for once. I enjoed some totally gnar snowboarding up in Mammoth and a jolly tour of a couple museums in Los Angeles. I even had a show with the David Bowie cover band. But when the time came, actually a few days before it, I was ready to head back to San Luis Obispo. The small central coast town where you can find surfers and swine just a few minutes apart with a drive on the 101 freeway.

Good luck with the new year everyone, and let's hope those damn democrats in the Congress don't take away our right to shoot people in the face...because if that happened, what would the Daily Show talk about?