In a minute, I’mma need a…
Objective lists of bests always make me scratch my head. I know there will always be at least some bias in lists, but my favorite rankings I hear from people I talk with are the ones that are very emotionally biased. I’m talking nostalgia, events that transpired during plays, purely sentimental acts, and emotions just taking over. Even if this means emotionally attached to a certain game design. Even if this means emotionally attached to a bad game design.
If you’ve been here, you’ve heard me talk about the ULTRA, the Ultimate Loosely-Thought Ranked Analysis. This is my internal ranking of all the games I’ve ever played. This list is processed by a current top twelve list that rotates as new games enter that list. When games are added to that list and leave, they graduate to the ULTRA where they are ranked.
There is no other process other than just sitting there thinking and discussing with other players. Things move up and down that list all the time depending on discussions, thoughts, and epiphanies. There is no extreme, numerical game design analysis. It’s just thoughts. While I have studied a lot about game and art design in video games, those things are not what I pride my list on. I love my list because it’s so emotional.
When I speak to players I like to bring up the question, “What are some of your favorite games?” I say “some of” because asking for a number one game is usually too difficult or stressful to answer. Just give me a couple of games where, if you had to recommend to a random player, these are the ones you’d choose. I want them to choose whatever loosely-thought, emotional choices they made. I want to get to know the player as a person, not as a critic.
Each viewpoint that the player brings to the table is what makes everything so unique. Their likes and dislikes of the game tell me a story that gives me a greater understanding not just of their thought processes and perspectives, but also their goals and what they value. I believe every experience in life does have an impact. This is why I oppose those who bully others online and why I oppose those who think just because something inappropriate is on a screen and “isn’t real” is okay. It’s the same emotional connection that gives the reason why you can’t go about saying that certain anime is okay even though there are definitely pedophilic things in it or other similar stuff. Whether you like it or not, watching that thing is going to affect you for the same reasons that other “innocent” things affect you for good. I can’t believe I’ve had to make that argument (and have it be ignored by said person). Why do I always hate being part of this entertainment community?
I digress. Let me talk about something a little less depressing.
I love Remedy Entertainment’s Control. I deal with some addictions in my life, and I don’t handle them well. I used to be addicted to gambling (darn you lootboxes), but thankfully I’ve gotten a lot better at that. So that’s one of the many down. I’ve been through therapy, drugs (ironically, for drugs), and other treatments. It’s not an easy road, but it’s a road that always makes me feel like it is my choice. Addictions blur the line between what is choice and what isn’t. It also brings up a ton of other contextual sociocultural things that also ask the same question depending on said contexts. It’s just…not fun. (I hope if any of you are dealing with similarly degrading things that you are getting as much support as possible.)
Playing Control felt different. I felt free. It’s technically considered a horror game, and I don’t do well with those, but I managed to get through the main game. (I haven’t finished the DLCs, I’m saving that for spooky month.) I’ve thought about this a lot, and I’m not sure what it was. That week I played Control I was free from all my addictions. I felt like I really was in control. It wasn’t because I played all day and night or anything. They were normal sessions. Maybe it was Jesse’s independent attitude and my role-playing as the characters that gave me strength. Maybe it was the emotional connection I had with her confusing experience. Maybe it was smashing stuff with the physics in the game. What if it was just good gameplay and world building? These are just some of the ideas, but I honestly can’t pinpoint why. That whole experience is one of the biggest reasons why I love Control.
It’s so…simple if you look at it. The event was complicated for me, but if you look at it from the outside in, it seems so simple. It’s very emotional, and it’s super insanely biased. It is in fact, probably one of the most biased positions on the ULTRA. Control sits at #6.
I think what I am trying to say is that I love people. Don’t get me wrong, I am a hermit. I rarely go to events for the social parts. But I admit that I really love people. Sounds like an oxymoron, but I think it somehow works. I’ve been following other players like Later Levels, where life, games, and being a parent all coincide. And how about The Gamer With Glasses, a gamer trying to get through life and talk about their love for RPGs. Or Ace Asunder’s unique perspectives on gaming feel empowering and eye-opening. Their views on games tell stories. These are stories that help me grow.
I am far, far from a perfect person, especially as I have just been kind of vulnerable about my life just now. I value the struggle, and all the hardships in my life have given me the opportunity to become a softer person. I have chosen that. I want to see that. I want to see how video games are a force for good for people in the world. How has gaming shaped struggles for you? How has it helped, even in the most minor of ways?
Hearing emotional lists and likes of games helps me realize that the player I am talking to is a human being, and with that human being comes struggle. And with that struggle is usually someone who is trying to be a better person. And with that striving person, maybe another reason for me to hate being part of this media community a little less and love it a little more.
Thanks for reading. I’ll see you again later this week if my work isn’t crushing my soul.