Effect Effects

You know what really misplaces my modifiers? Watching a movie for its CGI effects.

Sure, the extreme geeks who do that sort of thing as a hobby are more or less off the hook, but the rest of us — come on, people. It’s like reading a book for its excellent grammar construction, eating something because it looks good (when you know it’s going to taste bad — like cheesecake), playing a boring video game for its graphics, or listening to a CD because the handsome booklet cover.

—Or listening to music for its chordal progressions. I don’t care about your clever chord combos if the other parts of your music are yucky! Sure, some of the best music contains excellent chord progressions, but they rarely draw attention to that sole aspect — but instead excel in most all aspects. Okay, got that out of my system. Moving on:—

None of these qualities are bad, but are instead generally pleasing. After all, we expect books to have good grammar, food to look good, video games to be fun, and CD covers to be tasteful — but what about when those are the only merits present?

Let’s stick with the grammar illustration: Like grammar, CGI is a fine thing which may be enjoyed in its own right, but when that is all that remains recommendable in a final product, then something is wrong. Take Avatar: Horrible plot-line, leftist propaganda, naked female aliens — however you slice it, a waste of time, money, and artistic sensibilities. Sure, it probably entertains, but so does reading the dictionary (something I need to do more often).

One good thing does not redeem everything else. Hm, reminds me of our music discussion... Anyway, am I off my nut here? Or am I simply missing something?

Go Play Outside

It is expected of the younger generation of the masculine gender to play (at least on occasion) some form of electronic game. And why not? These games make supreme conversation starters, set an agenda for meetings with new friends, and are—after all—eminently diverting.

Whenever I consider this matter, I recall what I wrote in my journal on March 3, 2007. I was not wholly easy on the pastime:

The actual time playing blew by even faster than the day—how worthless video games are! The time was wonderful, yet horrible. I was sickened by […] the waste of time in which we were all engaged. And yet it was so terribly fun. They have all been poisoned by it, none less willing than the last. I am tainted, but not taken. These golden years will be spent, but not in that. I will die before I let something so trivial ruin my life. Every time I concede to the open arms of that unclean thing, I shall remember—“not in whole.” The game is Free? No! I have not the time. All who are taken in are fools—and yet I am the greatest fool of all, who knows the evil, yet still returns to the beautiful fiend all to often. Why must it all be so? He who has not tasted of it desires it all the more—to know, to see. He who has tasted is not satisfied. He hungers more, and just when he thinks he has mastered it—it returns. We are all fools! What can be done? I can pray, and He will answer. How, I cannot tell, but the Lord is Holy and Just: every minute wasted in this life shall be held to him [who wasted it]. None shall escape. Dear, that felt good.

Though I’ve never held fully to the sentiments in this tempestuous narrative, I must admit that I had a point.

How easy it is to find oneself among the strongest advocates for scheduling the next LAN Party — but those have one redeeming factor. That of course is the social aspect, without which they would be the pinnacle of imprudence. (Another benefit is being able to listen to opera, but I’m afraid I am among the few who fully take advantage of this.)

What can you show for a single hour spent before the computer playing [game title] with friends? How much less from playing alone! Certainly we have all realized this at one point — generally when some other obligation has conflicted with our gaming habits so that we are forced to make a decision between the two. We initially act upon our disapprobation thus:

Death to the invader!
Strike a deadly blow,
As an old Crusader
Struck his Paynim foe!

Let our martial thunder
Fill his soul with wonder,
Tear his ranks asunder,
Lay the tyrant low!

And often continue thus:

Thus our courage, all untarnish’d,
We’re instructed to display;
But to tell the truth unvarnish’d,
We are more inclined to say,
“Please you, do not hurt us.”

“Do not hurt us, if it please you!”
“Please you let us be.”
“Let us be, let us be!”

Sometimes, I get the sense that we almost fear what life would be without them—is our happiness contingent on them? Are there not thousands of things supremely better? Sitting on the couch thinking is a better occupation than sitting before a computer gaming.

Of course, you should talk, you say. I don’t pretend to be unaffected by this phenomenon. Once I figured out how to run in single player mode a particular game left over from a LAN party, I proceeded to waste more time than I care to recall on it. I finally took out a righteous rage on it and deleted it completely.

If other things seem less enjoyable, perhaps it is on account of the dulling of our senses rather than their realization of something better. Banging your head on a mattress won’t seem quite as painful once you bang your head on a door a few times, though perhaps baning your head on the mattress was far better. (Lame illustration, but that’s what came off the top of my head.)

But even if gaming doesn’t conflict with school, family, church, or anything else—if we have an hour of the day which need not be spent in any particular pursuit—even then, is it not a waste? Squandering precious hours on what is less than nothingness.

Waste:
to consume, spend, or employ uselessly or without adequate return; use to no avail or profit; squander: to waste money; to waste words.

Wuld my argumentes sond moore connyncynge in Middel Englyssh? Ywis, Ich finde the thoght yeveneth me gret plesire. Yf shreuehede ist too seveere, these games shoud lest-wis be consydered unadvisede.

Ich opene y-floore to expoundynge!