“That’s it! Game over, man! Game over!”

That’s it. I’m done. I’ve had enough. You no longer offer me what I need. You’ve passed your ‘best before’ date and, to be frank, keeping you around this long was an act of optimistic charity.

Art by Torokun on deviantART - http://is.gd/RfEb8G
Art by Torokun on deviantART – http://is.gd/RfEb8G

I have loved you for a number of years, introduced you to most of my friends and family and even spent a significant chunk of my professional life designing and developing games for you.

It saddens me to say it, but… this is the end for us.

The writing has been on the wall for some time. You’re just not the same console I fell in love with. When you’re awake, you seek my attention at every opportunity you have. Your adverts continually ask me to click them so you can promote games, films and products, like that horribly overpowering bodyspray, tailored to the youthful ignorance of the heterosexual teenage boys expertly targeted by the brand’s lusty and busty models.

It doesn’t do you any good, with your needless obsession to document every little moment we share and give it a numerical value.

But more than anything, you crave new games. You remain desperate to prove that, actually, an old dog can be taught new tricks and that you have plenty of life yet to live, despite being at an age that – in all other console generations until now – would put you within touching distance of the RROD at the end of the tunnel.

I care about you, and can’t stand seeing what you’re doing to yourself. This needs to stop, and this is what’s going to happen next.

I will no longer buy games to play on you. I just won’t. It doesn’t do you any good, with your needless obsession to document every little moment we share and give it a numerical value. It doesn’t do me any good, with the sheer cost of trying to be even remotely up-to-date. You can consider my lack of time to have any sort of meaningful pleasure from such an investment as the final nail in that particular coffin.

Some things are better left unsaid
Some things are better left unsaid

Likewise, you know that I have little interest in the majority of your most popular hits. After all, I don’t need to perfect my ability to deliver virtual headshots. I have no desire to capture flags. I only see stress and frustration in playing unwelcoming online shooters I don’t have the time or skill to get better at, just to have a supremely slim chance at experiencing fleeting ephemeral success, only to repeat the stressful slog mere seconds later.

My hopes and dreams for you were to send you on the most incredible journeys, to experience beautifully-realised and vivid worlds, to play host to stories, characters and situations that could only be told as narrative and drama that has to be literally experienced to be truly experienced.

To be fair to you, you’ve often delivered what I asked of you. I have been lucky enough to embark on some amazing adventures, to see some sensational sights and, through you, have played a key role in countless tales of good versus evil.

I don’t need to perfect my ability to deliver virtual headshots. I have no desire to capture flags.

Furthermore, you’ve shown me what fascinating realms lay beyond good and evil. One of the greatest experiences we’ve shared, for example, ultimately showcased more good and more evil across five or so hours than anything else you could offer me. On top of that, the very same game intelligently made me decide my own route through impossible moral dilemmas, and all without much of the audiovisual panache that your exclusives – more typically death-obsessed or family-fodder – would routinely fail to entice me with.

With the benefit of hindsight, it seems the grass really was greener on the other side, where I could explore territories that were uncharted, terrifying or wondrous. Where interactive drama was pushed to some of its boldest limits. Where I wouldn’t have been charged a monthly fee just for the privilege of being allowed to use the film-streaming service that I already pay a monthly fee for.

Silver-Age Batman disapproves of Silver-Age policies
Silver-Age Batman disapproves of Silver-Age policies

But don’t think for a moment that I regret the times we have spent together. Well… I regret some of my actions. I mean, you’ve made it clear you’ll never forget some of the torment I’ve put us through. In all seriousness, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it. Not after all you’ve given me.

So, this is goodbye. I honestly mean it when I say: I hope we can remain friends.

I’ll miss you. I’ll never forget you. But it’s time for me to move on, to try new things, to spend time with other consoles and see what they’ve learnt from the influential times you and I shared.

We’ve grown up together, but we’ve grown apart too. I think this decision is best for the both of us, and I hope that in time you’ll come to see it that way too.

Take care. And thank you.

— Giles

Comments

3 responses to ““That’s it! Game over, man! Game over!””

  1. Mark Paterson avatar

    Interesting read. I too have decided to start weaning myself off the 360 and onto the PS3, especially with The Last of Us and the PS4 on the way. I can’t be arsed with Microsoft’s attitude any more, and once the next generation comes along, or perhaps even sooner, I’ll be cutting them out altogether.

  2. 5G avatar
    5G

    Welcome to the dark side. We have free multi-player!

  3. waywardcloud avatar
    waywardcloud

    Ditto. Just need to work my way through that backlog of games first.

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