Chapter 12. Random Sour Observations

You would never guess it from my comments in this book, but I have a reputation for, shall we say, outspokenness. That reputation is mostly on the mark, although it is often colored by the anger of those whom I have skewered. My particular talent is not for detecting problems anybody can bitch but rather for phrasing my criticisms in a style that hits hard. I hold euphemism and tactful ellipticity in contempt; integrity demands the expression of the truth in the clearest and most compelling terms. I am no heartless monster; in discussions of a personal nature, the feelings of my interlocutor are my primary concern. But in the world of ideas, feelings have no place. I would abandon a discredited idea with ruthless disloyalty, and I assault faulty ideas with barbaric ferocity. Playing intellectual hardball would not, by itself, have earned me a reputation for ferocity. My crime is applying my talent for language and metaphor to such discussions.

Viewed from a distance, some of my more colorful expressions are truly funny. I once condemned the solitary, unsocial aspect of computer games by comparing them with inflatable dolls. It was the ideal metaphor, capturing the pathetic and slightly sick nature of computer game playing. The metaphor hit home because it contains a solid germ of truth; it infuriated people because it demeans their enjoyment of games while simultaneously questioning their manhood.

This chapter is a potpourri of such observations on those aspects of game design that don't fit into any other chapters. Perhaps it should have been entitled "Crotchety Crawford Crapola." Readers whose sense of humor exceeds their sense of identification with ideas will chuckle over this chapter; all others will be outraged.