![]() Then I lie down on the couch and close my eyes and curse the Red Marker for all the interplanetary pain it has wrought. ![]() I go to the “Change Difficulty” sub screen and toggle to “Normal,” and the game asks me, “Are you sure?” No, I am not! My will to fight embiggens. As the screen goes red, I realize I’ve been struggling to get through this ridiculous fight for close to an hour. I actually punch myself hard on the thigh when I die for the 16th time - sliced in half by a growling, red-eyed, stab-armed tar monster. I’ve gruesomely died 15 times in a row, and I keep dying because I don’t have the right gun for this kind of fight and my ammo is preposterously low. That’s the highfalutin version of why I play games I’m reviewing on “Hard.” The practical reality, however, is this: It’s somehow two in the morning, I’m trying to turn on the machine that will save the universe, and monsters are coming at me from all directions. Video games are unique because, as systems of immense complexity, they create the illusion of having living, accessible minds themselves. What I’m describing might sound a little terrifying, but just about anything intended for a human audience wants to be held in the mind, the longer and more powerfully the better. Being locked into a game feels a bit like one of those dreams in which you realize you’re dreaming but can’t wake up, or like experiencing a fugue state in which you remain paradoxically attentive. Why don’t they finish me off with one overwhelming attack? Because that’s not what they do. Why can’t I jump? Because it’s not part of the rule set. ![]() In fact, both things seem totally logical. You don’t question why you can’t jump, or why your enemies insist on attacking you in groups of three rather than, say, 50. When you’re really playing something, though, all that ridiculous game-y stuff winds up getting internalized. Video games, even (especially?) excellent video games, are pretty much defined by arbitrary rules and restrictions. Possibly it’s just simple masochism, but someone once said to me, long ago, that you’re not truly playing a well-designed game unless you’ve allowed it to nest inside the circuitry of your central nervous system. ![]() Why do I do this to myself? I have no idea. I‘m a video-game reviewer who insists on playing 90 percent of my games set to the “Hard” difficulty. ![]()
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