Generation G

The Third Generation

So where did we go wrong? No one knows more about videogames than the First Players; we were there while the best and the beautiful battled it out for over two decades, yet that enchanting essence has undeniably been mislaid. It seems we missed one vital aspect that was at the core of what our parents set out to achieve: It is not the game itself that's important, but playing the game. The arcade was more than just a testing ground, it was a place to be with other Players and bask in the iridescent glory of Creation.

The videogame culture has become a technical, sterile showcase of programming abilities where dazzling visual effects and professionally arranged soundtracks have replaced the one aspect that we had taken for granted: participative enjoyment. The evolution of the industry did not need explaining to us, as we were there when it happened (our heritage was still visible on a clear day), but our children have had no such education about the history and importance of the most advanced technology in their lives. It is our duty to ensure that the principles of the videogame culture are not accidentally deleted from history's hard drive.

So, as we stand back and marvel at the breadth of our domain, what can we honestly say our unquestioned answer did for the videogame legacy inaugurated by our parents? All we have given our children, the Second Generation of Players, is a mind numbing overabundance of high-priced, uninspired, 3-D toy adverts and a disheartening apathy for video games in general.

Give me a soap box and an audience large enough and I'll bang on all day about how much better games were when I was young. But in truth, I'm fully aware that I'm looking at it through a rose tinted monitor. There have been some essential achievements in recent years, though often enough these successes are due to the hole into which the industry has dug itself.

One particular attempt to dig upward actually resulted in a positive step toward recapturing the pleasures of playing videogames; that of diverse, alternative controllers. Such abstract regalia as dancing mats, fighting arenas, cameras, light guns, swords, chainsaws and so forth are the core strength of current designers' otherwise barren imaginations. Of all the modern video games my niece and I have endured, none have bridged the gap between the First and Second Generation of Players more than those which employ a proactive, creative method of interacting with the game, and therefore each other. While my wife is in the kitchen chopping carrots, Alex and I are vigorously competing for the virtual carrot chopping record on EyeToy Play before moving on to the rabid window washing simulator, wood sawing championships and nail bashing marathon (no dear, I haven't had time to put those shelves up yet). Ten years ago it was inconceivable to think that a games console would convince us that simulated household chores could be a great wheeze. And it's not just home life that's been infused with bizarre digital merriment.

I've been known to spank the planks pretty hard in nightclubs after one or two shandys, and there's no fear of me ever hogging the rowing machine in a gym, so I prostrate myself at the feet of the mastermind who invented the Dance Dance Revolution ("Dance Dance" or DDR) craze and forged these two seemingly unrelated aspects of modern life into an alloy of pure game playing brilliance. Two inexpensive floor mats with brightly colored arrows, a pumping bass line and a healthy supply of funk are all we need to work up a powerful sweat and set off on a manic trip to videogame Shangri-la. While others are out jogging, staring intensely ahead on a stepping machine, lane swimming themselves into chlorinated oblivion or pumping pieces of iron that have more of a life than they do, we are gettin' on the good foot and offa' that thing with the help of our hypermedia home gym/nightclub, the PS2; keeping stress levels as healthy as our racing-snake physiques!