The Virtual Coffeeshop

Making the Sacrifice

The scapegoat represents a single solution to all the troubles afflicting an entire universe. In any game, beating a single level or boss never comes close to the single swift act of removing the archvillain. So, Sonic has Dr. Robotnik; Megaman has Dr. Wily; Ryu has M. Bison; and Earthworm Jim has The Evil Queen Pulsating, Bloated, Festering, Sweaty, Pus-Filled, Malformed, Slug-For-A-Butt ... Each malevolent boss becomes a victim raised to power through the same recycled rituals and then sacrificed for the sake of a balanced universe.

The list might well be endless. Every hero goes on a journey to exorcise demons, and like Jesus when he performs any other miracle, he is celebrated. In videogames, the death of the archvillain returns the game's universe to a Utopia. Religion is directly avoided in videogames, even though its influence is obvious.

Apart from this virtually universal element, religion and videogames rarely collide. The obvious, though still uncommon, exception is Bible games, which tend to play more like video Jeopardy! than traditional videogames. Crave Entertainment's aptly-titled The Bible Game, now available for multiple platforms, is the most recent entry with this goal. But when "gameplay" devolves into something resembling a Sunday school catechism, not much gaming happens.

Whereas The Bible Game might be considered a God game, a larger genre that draws more mainstream attention is the god game. We move from pseudo-game to pseudo- mythology. These titles, which range from Populous to Black & White to Doshin the Giant, serve as group life managers. An entire village or society is at your mercy, and the decisions regarding who should prosper and who should suffer are solely yours. These games are pseudo-mythologies because the narrative, as you play it out, becomes the mythology. No pre-existing story guides the empowered player on how to act. A village's erection of monuments for the player-deity is a flimsy game mechanic serving as a novelty doing nothing to enhance the mythos or the gameplay. The shrines represent a token nod to spirituality, and the self-aggrandizement in the context means little. Despite the very name of the genre, the god-ness of a player is never fleshed out.

Another interesting aspect of god games is they consistently offer the player-deity rule over primitive village people. Is this to suggest that the fiction the game world tries to create would not survive in a contemporary setting? Is the modern player too arrogant and narcissistic to believe a god game could function in her city? If Project Gotham Racing 3 can create a sense of immersion and attachment to its world by recreating present-day Los Angeles, why can't Black & White 3?

Doing so would invite present-day religious iconography. Lionhead Studios wants the player to think of a god (or God Himself) without the difficulties and complexities associated with religion. For the same reason PGR3 avoids depicting churches, mosques and synagogues, Populous follows suit. Despite the obvious place temples and cathedrals would have in a god game, they are ignored. They are removed from the context by unerringly giving the player control over gangs of hunters and gatherers.

As we move from games promising group life management to those advertising group and individual life simulations, we can move from pseudo-mythology to "no mythology." Titles like SimCity, The Sims and Second Life all try to create a complete life within a modernized, closed system. And still, they all deny the presence of religion, religion iconography and places of worship. The seminal SimCity, for example, asserts that a society can function fully without any place of worship. As mayor, the player makes decisions regarding airports, sea ports, hospitals, fire departments, police stations, post offices and residential areas, but is not allowed to consider building a church.

The same philosophy pervades the other games mentioned. EA's overwhelmingly popular The Sims and Linden Labs' burgeoning Second Life both promise a complete virtual existence for your digital avatar. You can earn money, do chores and engage in intercourse. These are, to a large extent, the goals of the game. You cannot, however, visit or attend a place of worship. No avatar is so distinctly Hindu that a Bindi is visible on its forehead, and none is so distinctly an Orthodox Jew to permit preserved forelocks. Both games bear a message for the player, arguing a virtual life is best enjoyed bereft of spirituality. Even a game like GTA: San Andreas, lauded for its huge and complete living, breathing game world lacks places of worship, but is replete with dialog repeating the words "God-damn!"