Last night I did what I honestly never expected to do: I bought a video game that I would never buy for my own future children or want them to play until they were old enough to understand that it’s just a game. But I just couldn’t help myself. I don’t really agree with the concept of the game and it still continues to shock me how terribly violent it is. But it’s just so much fun. And it cracks me up. I know it’s only a game.
I bought Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas ($39.99 at Best Buy).
A couple years ago I wrote this after playing the game’s predecessor, Vice City, for the first time. Pretty much everything I wrote then is still true — I feel OK playing this horribly violent and wrong game because I “understand the difference between make-believe and reality.” But it’s far from a game for the kids. It really does send the wrong message.
Of course, I think that Grand Theft Auto is far less insidious than “games” like Medal of Honor and JFK Reloaded that turn real, historic, and nightmarish events into entertainment. GTA is purely fiction.
I also didn’t expect to find myself so into video games once again. Growing up, I was all about gaming — Commodore 64, Nintendo, Sega Genesis, and Super Nintendo. But I stopped there and haven’t bought a new game system since. Even the PSII I now have I didn’t buy (it was bestowed upon me by Justin). Jen is really into Katamari Damacy and has already beaten the game but continues to play it. It seems that we’ll be fighting over who gets to play the game of choice. And I can say with the utmost confidence that I would never dream of busting out a gat to solve that — or any — dispute like the characters in GTA would.
