When Board Games Don't Matter

Last Sunday, six young men piled into a silver Toyota and drove to a house on a dare. Apparently, the dare involved ringing someone's doorbell and then running away just before the door was opened. One of the young men ran to the front door, rang the doorbell, and bolted to the waiting getaway car. A middle-aged man answered the door and spied the Toyota escape down his street. Extremely enraged, the squat man rushed to his own while sedan, started it, and sped in pursuit of the young men. As the older man caught up to the silver car, he bumped it at high speed. From what has been reported, he bumped it more than once. After a particularly forceful impact, the young driver of the silver car suffered a concussion and blacked out.

The silver car careened off the road and collided with a tree.

The angry driver fled the scene.

Of the six teens, three of them passed away. Two of the survivors were brothers of the deceased. The driver also survived. My family and I knew all three of the deceased young men. We know two of the survivors. We even spotted them at church earlier that day.

When I reflect on this tragedy, I ponder how I did not do my part in youth ministry to impact these guys. This is not to say that any past interventions would have prevented this horrific outcome, but I think about how every young person deserves our attention. Every youngster needs the love and wisdom of adults to guide them. I find my mind and memory drifting to past moments during which I was in close proximity to them. I dwell on how I could have interacted with them, how I could have been more intentional with my conversations with them, and how I could have looked past whatever was happening to show them that Jesus loves them.

Then I think about my sons and how these boys were sons to fathers that loved them. I know I cannot fully understand what those fathers are feeling today; when I imagine it, the searing pain of loss is palpable, but probably doesn't approach the anguish of these men. Yet, I can comprehend enough to view my sons in a different light. I am thankful that my sons are still with me, but I have guilt about being thankful when those three fathers do not have that option.

I know that these boys are in the presence of God right now, and I know that God is present in tragedy. He has brought a church together in mourning, He has brought justice upon the perpetrator, and He has reached the hearts of many of the youths in the community. Yet, we all mourn. In a way that is essential for any human being, we should be devastated emotionally for we will not see these young men again in this lifetime. We will not see their smiling faces except in videos and photos...

But I know we'll see them again in a place where the sins of humanity are stripped away. There will be joy on that day.

Board games don't matter today. More than ever, what matters is God and people. What matters is that we hold on to our loved ones and those that need God's love with both hands for as long as we can because our time with each other here on this earth is excruciatingly short. The good news is that eternity is long. Treasure your loved ones now and prepare them for what is to come after this very brief sojourn through this life.

“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28).

What to Do If... Board Games Have Become Less Fun

Like most hobbies, table gaming (i.e. board and/or card games) is subject to the ebbs and flows of life. A table gamer may experience weeks, months, or even years of high-peak interest in his hobby, seeking consistent game sessions and new and exciting games to open, sort, and explore. Conversely, a table gamer may be overwhelmed with life changes, such as switching jobs, marriage, having children, moving to a new neighborhood, checking out an unfamiliar church, and so on. What is difficult to understand, though, is when one's interest in a hobby seems to wane for no significant reason. Though I would contend that there is always a reason, the underlying causes may be almost impossible to identify.

Nonetheless, there are ways to handle periods of your life during which, for one or many reasons, board games are just not as fun as they used to be or are not that fun at all. Some of these methods are painfully obvious, yet some of them may be unfamiliar to you.

Take a Well-Defined Break from Gaming

The simplest method for dealing with this malaise is to stop gaming for a while, though I would not recommend taking an open-ended break. I suggest taking a clearly delineated break by defining the start and end of the break. Call it a "fast" from gaming. The fast could be for 10 days, 20 days, one month, or even a few months. By defining the parameters of the break, you establish that mental barrier for which to aim. By fasting from gaming, you may regenerate that keen interest in the hobby, yet develop a healthier perspective of it. After all, gaming is a relatively minor hobby and should not override more important concerns, such as one's faith, or even family, job, and friends.

Explore Other Hobbies

Another obvious solution is to engage in other activities. I would suggest physical activities, like hiking or sports, to disconnect from the cerebral pursuits of gaming and exercise other areas of your brain.

Return to a Beloved Game from Your Past

One way to revitalize your interest in table gaming is to revisit a game from your past. These kinds of games I call recharger games. For example, I used to really enjoy playing Carcassonne with a few expansions, especially Inns and Cathedrals. By returning to a game from your past, you may rediscover those game-youthful feelings you may have left behind and forgotten. If you have been tempted to sell that old game, do not sell it; keep it as a reminder of your "younger" gaming days. If you sold that old game, I recommend buying it again and keeping it ready. Remember: just because you have "evolved" as a gamer does not mean you cannot enjoy those past gateway games that got you involved in the first place.

One more thing to mention: even opening up an old game and thumbing through its components may be enough to enjoy gaming again. Sometimes, I like to crack open Core Worlds just to look at the card art and read through the potential combos. That game is definitely one of my go-to recharger games.

Reconnect with an Old Game Buddy

Another way to rekindle your hobby fire is to call upon a game friend from the past. Be sure to call someone with whom you really enjoyed playing games. However, consider the possibility that the old gaming buddy has either moved on from gaming or has "evolved" into other games. Recapturing that wistful feeling of positive nostalgia may be only one-sided; factor that into the reconnection and you will frame the reunion with balanced expectations.

Buy (or Make) an Expansion

Occasionally, all you need is to shake up an old game with a novel expansion to renew your gaming spirit. However, I would extend this to a riskier idea: creating a home-brewed expansion. When I am a bit bored, I like to think about ways to tweak the existing rules by synthesizing new cards, game boards, and tokens. Playtesting these ideas can energize a gaming veteran by making her analyze the rules to find loopholes and advantageous combos that can be exacerbated or mitigated by a homemade expansion.

As an added bonus, there are a few methods that I would NOT recommend because these can be counterproductive:

DON'T Sell the Old Games...Yet

Selling old games does not solve the problem of loss of interest... unless the issue is not that. You may be selling games because you are absolutely no longer interested in table gaming OR you have elevated table games to an unhealthy level of interest such that you value them over truly significant parts of your life. Of course, if you are just in a lull, hold onto your old games until you are certain of your course of action.

DON'T Buy a New Game

Sure, it's exciting to buy new games, sort components, sleeve cards, and organize contents for a night-long session of gameplay, but I have found that this does not alleviate waning interest on a long-term basis; instead, it staves off the malaise for a short time. It also establishes a "cult of the new" pattern of thinking. In other words, you are only able to ward off boredom by buying new games. This is an expensive route with diminishing returns. As I have heard in so many movies, if you are not enough with the games you have, how can you be enough with a new game?

DON'T Seek New Game Friends with an Expectation of Renewing Interest

It may seem like an excellent strategy to try out a new gaming group, but the worst aspect of this method is that you may become further disillusioned trying to renew gaming interest with people you barely know or may not even like. This could backfire spectacularly because new players are an unknown quantity. For instance, if you are a competitive person who enjoys engaging in table talk (i.e. light trash-talking), but you join a group who shies away from such banter, you may end up further discouraged.

DON'T Play Your Way Through the Doldrums

Much like a lot of athletes, trying to play your way through a slump can worsen your negative sentiments because you start feeling like you are in a pit you cannot escape. However, this is not always true; sometimes, an unexpectedly exhilarating session of play may recharge you.

In general, when suffering through a downswing in gaming, I advise avoiding new situations, games, and opponents, and return to past games, opponents, and groups with whom you relished playing. Of course, this approach may not work for you; perhaps, something novel may energize you. New friendships can also inspire you to continue.

I should mention, though, that there is the danger of table gaming becoming that idol that one comes to worship, as if the hobby becomes so integral to one’s daily routine and thoughts that all other aspects of one’s life become secondary. Christians think in terms of “idols,” and I believe that this approach is a useful way to reassess what table gaming means to you. In fact, Philippians 4:19 offers intriguing insight in which Paul wrote of idolaters: their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. Does gaming dominate your thoughts and free time? Does most of your discretionary funds go towards it? If so, I strongly recommend taking a long break from table gaming and focusing on pursuing God. Such a pursuit realigns our perspectives, which, ironically, can enhance our enjoyment of any hobby. As is often overstated, table gaming can become “too much of a good thing.” In that sense, the best way to reignite gaming interest is to realign your priorities.

What to Do If... Your Family Does Not Like Board Games

It is not an uncommon occurrence to have a hobby that most or all of your family does not share. In my family of four, each of us has distinct (what I would call) "main hobbies." For instance, my wife derives a lot of pleasure from hiking and camping; though my sons and I enjoy these activities in varying degrees, they are primarily her hobbies. My oldest son is highly enthusiastic about Japanese car modification and performance, which informs what he reads and mentions daily. My youngest son is greatly interested in wilderness survival and warfare, which serves him well as a Boy Scout. My hobbies... well, my hobbies are running, watching movies, and board games, which are enjoyed or tolerated by the rest of my family. The key term, I should state, is "tolerate."

Every family tolerates its members' hobbies to some extent. In my family, we tolerate, or sometimes enjoy, each other's hobbies and interests. My youngest son is the most flexible: he seems to enjoy camping, cars, AND board games. My oldest son tolerates everyone else's hobbies (which is endemic to being a teenager, I suppose). My wife is intrigued by wilderness survival (my youngest's interest) and puts up with board games from time to time. I glean some enjoyment from camping and hiking and can talk enough about cars to be mildly useful in a conversation. In any case, toleration (NOT endurance or long-suffering) is the operative term.

What happens, though, when your family does NOT like your hobby, specifically, for the purpose of this article, board games? For various reasons, one or more family members may not find any appeal in board games. Whatever the reason, there are ways to turn the situation to your favor. As with any hobby, there are methods and approaches that may change your family's minds about board games. As a thought exercise, let us explore some of those approaches...

Assess Your Family's Interests
One of the most difficult things to do is to involve anyone into one's own hobby because this often requires tweaking one's hobby to accommodate others. Find out in what each of your family members is interested. Let these hobbies drive which games you choose and purchase. This may force you to branch out beyond your own gaming tendencies, such as when one of your children or siblings is interested in fashion; you would probably never head in that direction with board games, so you may have to stretch yourself to accommodate it. Thankfully, nowadays, there are an innumerable amount of games for any theme that exists.

Enlist Competition and Theme
With board games, there are two characteristics that are universally understood enough to fold in many people: competition and theme. In this way, you can connect their interests to board games. For example, if one family member is a sports enthusiast, consider board games that are competitive or cooperative, depending on that person's disposition. You cannot generalize by assume that all sports-minded folks are competitive, so assess his or her disposition. Another example is if a family is interested in cars, like my oldest son; find a game that involves that theme. However, be careful to research the game; some games may appear to have a car "theme," but it may just be a pasted-on theme that acts as a veneer for a bunch of game systems and mechanics. In any case, theme and competition are two avenues by which you can bring in semi-apathetic people.

Be Fair with Everyone's Hobbies
Before launching full-bore into board gaming with those semi-apathetic members of your family, discuss with them your desire to balance everyone's hobbies to ensure that nobody's interests are ignored. To engender intrigue in board games, you must consider your family. This also involves stretching yourself to engage in pastimes that are not your own. In my family, every Friday is Family Night, and each week one person decides what to do on that night. In this way, everyone has a chance to expose others to their hobbies. In order to ensure that board games have some kind of place in your family, I recommend enjoying other people's hobbies, which makes everyone feel included, thus engendering a probable desire to engage in your hobby of board gaming.

Relax
For board gamers, any game is a serious pursuit. Whether it is a gateway game like Ticket to Ride or Settlers of Catan, or a thinky, involved game like Agricola or Twilight Struggle, avid board gamers are fascinated to the extent that even the finer rules and mechanics of such games attract their undivided attention. Non-gamers and casual gamers, though, are not so intense; based on what I have observed, it is the light, social aspects of games that draw them into any game. Thus, I recommend keeping any family game session light with an extreme emphasis on fun. Do not focus on the mechanics of the game, and do not be quite so strict and fastidious with the rules; simply play the game to interact with your family. Patience is also key; your family may ask numerous questions throughout the game that you would be tempted to answer by handing them the game manual to read; do NOT do this! Just relax and take time to explain the rules. If you are calm and non-intense, everyone else will associate calmness and non-intensity to games... at least until they (may) form their own strong interest in board games.

Look at Board Games as Conversation Starters
If anything, games are "social lubricants" which fill conversation gaps and slip past people's protective shells by alleviating the pressure to talk about oneself; use that element of board games by approaching rules explanations like opportunities to talk. Also, use board game time as a chance to discuss other people's hobbies. Sure, a fantasy-themed dungeon crawl may have nothing to do with camping, unless you work hard to make the connection and then discuss it. This is where you have to stretch yourself even further to not view board games as chances to compete or escape the real world, but as chances to ground yourself in the realities of your family members.

Seek Honest Assessment of the Board Games You Choose
This is the toughest requirement: ask your family which of your games they liked. Sometimes, you may be surprised that one or more of your siblings or children enjoyed Power Grid, even though it seemed long and thinky when you last played it. Sometimes, though, you may NOT be surprised that they did not enjoy that three-hour session of Lewis & Clark and how the winner had run away with the victory 30 minutes before you actually finished the game. Assessing your family's interest in your games can be a sensitive matter because, even though you really enjoy certain games in your collection, they may not like your beloved games at all! What do you do in this instance? There are two solutions: consign certain games to sessions with your gamer group only, or sell the games to acquire ones that better fit your family. The former is easier, yet you would have to live with the fact that you would play those games much less often; the latter is tough, but may serve as an opportunity to acquire newer, more streamlined games. In other words, by assessing your family's tendencies, you can craft your game collection to include them.

I am sure there are many more ideas regarding how to enfold your family into board gaming, but just as toleration is key to your family enjoying each other's hobbies, it is incumbent upon you to stretch yourself to accommodate your family. In this way, the answer to what to do if your family does not like board game is simple yet extremely arduous: you have to be self-sacrificial, which is, sadly, an odd concept where one's hobbies are concerned. It does not have to be odd, though. By giving up some of your tendencies, you include others and become a better person for it because board games become less about rules, mechanics, and theme, and more about conversation, inclusion, relaxation, and fun.

This reminds me of a great Bible verse: There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends (John 15:13). With our hobbies, we should do no less -- lay down our own interests for our friends and family. That may involve playing games you would not play on your own or playing less than you would want. Yet, I believe that if you accomplish this, you elevate board games to something better than a personal hobby; it becomes something that binds the family together. I think every hobby should achieve this.

The Cthulhu Mythos: One Christian's Perspective

It still amazes me how influential some people, organizations, and events can be, and yet be obscured, disregarded, and even forgotten. For instance, it surprises me how much of an impact Eli Whitney and the cotton gin had on the economic development of the South, even though most people now would not remember Whitney at all. I am also somewhat alarmed at how crucial Nicola Tesla was to the widespread use of alternating electrical current, yet it is only now that his name is receiving the recognition. A third name that has come to my attention is Howard Phillips Lovecraft, also known as H.P. Lovecraft, whose influence in horror and science fiction has largely gone unnoticed by all but the die-hard fans of a character and mythos called Cthulhu.

Cthulhu is a character from a short story written by Lovecraft in 1926 called The Call of Cthulhu, which tells the tale of a young intellectual turned investigator who learns more about a mysterious being called Cthulhu, the cult of dangerous individuals who worship it, and the madness that strikes anyone who dares to investigate this eldritch, alien horror. As the story progresses, the protagonist, whose thoughts and words are conveyed in first-person voice, discovers stories of strange effigies, weird dreams, mysterious deaths of those who also sought to uncover Cthulhu, and of a group of sailors who escaped the ravenous attack of South Pacific cultists to wash up on a non-Euclidean nightmare of an island harboring the legendary city of R'yleh, where Cthulhu supposedly resides (unbeknownst to the group of sailors). Not to reveal much more, the story ends with an ominous warning of insanity to those who choose to follow the author's footsteps. Indeed, for its time, The Call of Cthulhu must have been jarring... for those who happened to read it.

For much of his literary career, Lovecraft toiled in semi-obscurity, all the while churning out story after story, creating a fantastic tapestry of odd alien beings, ancient space conflicts, hidden invasions onto Earth, and the insanity that can only come from beholding creatures beyond human comprehension. I must admit that my knowledge of the Cthulhu realm is spotty, but I have come to realize that Lovecraft had intentionally or somewhat inadvertently developed a striking world of fiction that came to be regarded as a mythos of Cthulhu. Even a cursory scan of Lovecraft's bibliography suggests an impressive output of fiction even tangentially related to Cthulhu. As I have found, Lovecraft, though prolific in his fiction writing, garnered little financial gain from his work and died poor.

However, just as Van Gogh's work was more widely appreciated after his death, Lovecraft's work seemed to find an audience as knowledge and discussion of Cthulhu has crept ever so slightly into the mainstream as the years have passed. Even before now, the influence of Lovecraft's blend of the horror of the unknowable and of scientific inquiry and fiction can be found in television shows like Kolchak: The Night Stalker, The X-Files, and Fringe; in horror movies that involve insanity and cosmic monstrosities; and, of course, in written fiction, as Stephen King himself has noted Lovecraft as a major influence. Furthermore, in the last several years, Cthulhu, and the intellectual property associated with that character, has steadily gained popularity in board gaming, which is one of my main hobbies. Much like the cultists in The Call of Cthulhu, Lovecraft's intellectual property is gaining social momentum, even seventy years after his death.

Cthulhu has become so prevalent in gaming that my interest was inevitably piqued regarding it. In the board gaming world, several games related to Cthulhu have garnered positive reviews and recommendations, such as Elder Sign and Mansions of Madness, but, until recently, I knew little about Lovecraft or his work. All that I had known about Cthulhu was based on what I had read about those board games. This led me to investigate what Cthulhu was (much like the hapless protagonists of Lovecraft's work), so I began at an odd point: I downloaded the card game Cthulhu Realms to my cell phone. The game was designed by Darwin Kastle, who used almost the exact same system of deck-building as in Star Realms, except that the art and terminology was changed to reflect Cthulhu. As I played this virtual card game (which is also available as a physical card game), I encountered character names, such as Dagon, Wilbur Whatley, and even The Shadow of Cthulhu. Knowing nothing of these characters, I proceeded to research on Wikipedia, which most people do, I'm sure. Then, I decided to go back to the source material: I found a free version of The Call of Cthulhu and downloaded it to my Kindle Fire tablet. Because it was a short story, it took only a couple of hours of reading to finish it. Unexpectedly, my interest has been further piqued and I am now reading The Mountains of Madness, which is another short story in the same world as Cthulhu, apparently.

As an aside, I should mention my impressions of The Call of Cthulhu as a literary work. Being an English as a Second Language instructor and a linguist, I can speak with some experience and authority about this short story, at least from a diction standpoint. In my opinion, Lovecraft's sentence constructions are outstanding with complex clauses, an extensive vocabulary, and a writing style that is both grammatically sound and lyrically pleasing. I reveled in his diction, as if I have been starved of this level of erudition for so long. Sure, some of his writing is, shall I say, outdated compared to current speech and writing patterns, but his work from a mechanical standpoint is beautiful.

Regarding the content, Lovecraft wrote the story in first-person voice, so the reader's connection with the material is immediate, as if someone were conveying a life event directly to the reader. Yet, there is a detachment that comes from Lovecraft's choice to recount tales of Cthulhu through second-hand stories shared with the protagonist. This detachment augments the mystery of the ever-increasingly horrific Cthulhu. However, though the story is told from a first-person perspective, there is a disjointed quality to the narrative in which time seemed to advance days, weeks, and even months with little more transition than a passing sentence. Conversations are also portrayed not as dialogue, but as reported speech. Because of this and the aforementioned detachment, characters are mostly name labels on victims and agents that advance the plot. Even the narrator, through whom the reader can sense and feel the curiosity and fear so inherent to current horror fiction, is a caricature, at best, who does not stand out as a living, breathing person with traits and tendencies beyond his inexorable inquisitiveness. Thus, The Call of Cthulhu is plot-driven, despite the first-person narrative.

Despite my criticism, I can understand how attractive the Cthulhu mythos is because of the mystery of the unknown and the imagined insanity of beholding an incomprehensible terror. There is something oddly exciting about imagining oneself as a paranormal investigator researching in libraries, interviewing eyewitnesses, piecing together creepy accounts, and globetrotting in pursuit of truth. Much like Mulder and Scully or the Ghostbusters or even a Van Helsing character type (which predates Cthulhu, of course), the danger and intrigue of the hunt for absolute evil is enthralling, engendering chills down one's spine and a general sense of foreboding.

As I finished The Call of Cthulhu and read more about Lovecraft, I started pondering some points that are directly relevant to Lovecraft's world in comparison to our world. One point that occurred to me was the godlessness of the Cthulhu world. In The Call of Cthulhu, Cthulhu and his minions are extraterrestial, ancient beings from another part of the galaxy, another dimension, or both, with the near-godlike ability of instilling preternatural fear into a sad cadre of sailors. These beings are uncaring, ominous creatures that disregard humanity, maybe treating them as slave fodder, at best. These beings are somewhat analogous to Satan and his demons, except that Satan is hellbent to snatch souls while the Cthulhu demi-deities are only disdainful towards humanity. Another point that I considered was the godlessness of the character and how fright and hopelessness engender an ambient sense of doom. In The Call of Cthulhu, I felt that doom in the prose with the main character inexorably descending into a kind of self-conscious madness, as if he was perfectly aware of how his grasp of reality was becoming more and more tenuous, yet he was powerless to stop it. It caused me to think about people in the world today and how existential and nihilistic they tend to be, which in turn is reflected in a selfish, "you only live once" mentality. A third point that crossed my mind was how there was no sense of victory in the prose; there is not even a false dawn, so to speak. The force and pulse of the narrative is typified by a contrast between undying curiosity and impending, undeniable defeat at the hands of insanity. In other words, Lovecraft's work is neither joyous nor hopeful, which is what the world resembles when there is no sense of God.

Considering that Lovecraft was an atheist, it is understandable that the atmosphere that he creates and the characters in the narrative are driven by a thirst for knowledge and a latent kind of righteous indignation that seems to come from the feeling that Earth is being invaded. However, these characters are equally draped with a hopeless darkness that is exacerbated by the looming danger of rabid cultists and otherworldly visages with no regard for humanity. As I read The Call of Cthulhu, I experienced all of these feelings, and this is where Lovecraft was successful; his prose envelopes the reader in the story. Though the narrative is a distant kind of first-person perspective, I am in the room with the main character, looking through his eyes, yet fully myself. I imagine that this is the appeal of Lovecraft's work, and what makes horror as popular as it is. Yet, there is a melancholy that is repulsive to me, probably because Jesus is about a faith, hope, and love that conquers the darkness, and Lovecraft's world is the opposite: faithless, hopeless, and gloomy.

I am not sure if I am a Lovecraft or Cthulhu fan, and I am not sure how a Christian can reconcile his or her faith with Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos except that his writing, which is wonderfully descriptive and eloquent, speaks into the deepest, darkest parts of our souls. His writings remind me that without God, the world is bereft of hope and purpose; without God, our demons are ultimately unknown and unknowable, yet there are "cultists" in our world that elevate those demons -- demons of consumerism, hedonism, selfishness, greed, meglomaniacal power, and so on. In Christian circles, people talk of "idols" as anything that draws us away from God. Anything can be an idol, but in Lovecraft's world the idols are extraterrestrial beings who, at best, want to subjugate humanity or, at worst, sweep humanity aside to occupy our space for their own ends. That draws me to Lovecraft's prose because it elucidates me regarding the spiritual battle that rages around us each day, yet goes on ignored with a demonically-motivated misinformation campaign that dulls unwitting souls into a lifeless sleep riddled with personal ambition and acquisition of things. We are told everyday that God is dead, that self is everything, and that we should concern ourselves with our hobbies, our careers, and the betterment of ourselves, even despite others. We live in a world in which there are other-level events happening, yet we, as humanity, disregard it and focus on our own daily lives and desires. To me, Lovecraft weaves these frailties of the self into his narrative tapestry. When I read The Call of Cthulhu, the thought that dominated my mind was the desire to share Christ with others lest we all descend into a kind of Cthulhu-lite insanity, intrigued by the curiosities in the shrouded corners of this world to the point that we are obsessed with them until we are lost forever. If anything, I believe that, quite unintentionally, Lovecraft shows us a Satanic world which should compel us to look at our world and pray that our world would never go down that path.

Board Game Cleanup 3: My Firm Guidelines

As I have mentioned in my two previous posts, I try to be judicious and wise about which games I bring into my house. I have some rudimentary personal rules based on a combination of my faith in Christ and my own sensibilities of what is appropriate for me and my family.

For the sake of brevity, here is a list of my rules, which aren't necessarily hard and fast rules as much as firm guidelines that inform my selection process:

• No nudity or coarse language
  I will not tolerate either profanity in any game text or nudity in any game imagery; any game that has these elements will not exist in our household.

No religious content that is antithetical to Christ
Sometimes, this is a judgment call, but a good example is if a game involves offering money to a deity, even a make-believe one.

No bloody imagery
This is more related to certain violent acts portrayed in art, such as impalings, body explosions, graphic beheadings, maimings, and the like. Sometimes, this is also a judgment call, but I have replaced art for images that were "too bloody." I also reject games that have actions that result in those outcomes.

No overtly demonic imagery or acts that invoke demons
The criteria for identifying this is actually quite narrow; I'm referring to outright occultish depictions, such as pentagrams, ritual sacrifices, and portrayals of creatures that were meant to be demons. Also, I rule out in-game actions that involve summoning demons or devils, or appeasing such entities. (Note: I don't reject games if demons are portrayed as "demons" and meant to serve as antagonists).

No positive portrayals of drug use
I don't think that a game that assigns any positive value to illegal or narcotic drug use is "family-friendly."

As I said, these are firm guidelines that are open to assessment; in other words, I try to investigate the game before I reject it. That said, I do lean towards rejection and try not to justify buying games if justification requires long-winded excuses; for example, if a game allows a protagonist to behead people, I wouldn't justify it by saying that the "people were bad, and so they deserved it." Of course, you, the reader, may have your own convictions, but these are mine.

If you would like, please feel free to offer your own convictions and interpretations of the Bible in the Comments section. I'm always willing to engage a cordial commenter, and I have been known to change my mind if a fine point is made.

Why Families Need Board Games, Part II: Reinforcing Personal Contact

My wife told me an intriguing story. During her visit to the dentist, she overheard a young girl asking her father if she could play a game on his cellular phone. My wife described the girl as being "whiny," which seems to be the chosen tone of many children. At the same time, my youngest son devoured 11 chapters of a book. Upon first hearing this story, one may not find anything that intriguing, but to me this story reinforces the importance of disconnecting from the digital and connecting to others and with concrete objects in the "real." Indeed, personal contact is one way in which board games will save the world, but the strongest impediment might be games of another kind...

The most salient trend in gaming is how games become more and more intricate and engrossing for the player: games are now more complex, more visually appealing, and more portable than ever. Games look sharper and crisper, and set the challenge bar high enough with less cheese than in the past; with games like Plague or Bad Piggies, players benefit from engaging graphics, top-notch sound effects, and enough detail and complication to occupy even the most jaded gamer. Also, gone are the days of needing a Game Gear or Game Boy or even having to pay money for cartridges; just get a smartphone or a tablet, download a free game app, and one can play most games anywhere and only have to tolerate the periodic advertisement. People can play everything from first-person shooters to virtual board games; one of my gaming buddies even played Ticket to Ride for the first time... on an iPad! No longer do you need game realia (such as game pieces or dice), console, cartridges, or even opponents; the computer can provide an opponent or opponents anytime, anywhere.

Considering the convenience of computer games now, plugging into the digital world is somewhat more appealing than whipping out a game board or game books, and finding "experienced" players is easier now that computer intelligence and game programming can frustrate veteran players without the skulduggery inherent to old video games, such as spotty hit detection. However, people are now, more than ever, tempted to disconnect from others. Many video game and computer game players may now be less apt to challenge live opponents, let alone engage a human being in conversation. Sure, people that play online RPGs can connect with players through a chat window or by audiovisual communication, but it all happens in a world disjointed from reality. 

We are becoming more isolated and separated, but this is one trend that board games can restrict. By taking out a board, some pieces, and some cards, one is required to find human opponents. Once one finds human opponents, one has to communicate with these opponents, whether it be friendly conversation or playful, competitive banter. One has to move pieces, read rules, and manipulate realia to make the game happen. People's brains take back the role computers have stolen from our unsuspecting grasps; their brains make the "graphics" move, our eyes ingest and admire the game pieces, and our hands carry these items from game table to game table. Board games anchor people in reality, while stimulating conversations, compelling players to match wits with organic foes, and even driving us to go out and find those foes.

As the "world" pulls us farther and further apart, seducing us with a hyper-reality of bright colors and endless opponents whom we would never have to befriend, it creates the illusion of interconnection with social media sites like Facebook and Twitter and deceives us into believing in our self-reliance. We buy into the idea that we don't need other people; we just need a computer. Yet, people are alone in their offices, chatting with each other through screens. It all seems so (William) Gibsonesque a la Neuromancer, but we need to touch each other; we need to touch this world. So, next time, instead of playing Ticket to Ride on a tablet, or asking Daddy for his smartphone, take the board game with you. Play Yahtzee in the doctor's office or Fluxx on the train. Invite your friends or even ask friendly passengers around you to play. We need personal contact; the "world" cannot overwhelm us if we (dare I say) stick together.

Netrunner: 1HN Jettisoned Cargo

From my pre-teen years to my college years, I was a collector. At first, I collected baseball cards, but those companies flooded the card market with overprinted sets, so collectors (who believed the hype of the increased collectibility of baseball cards) bought mass amounts of cards only to watch the value of those cards plummet. I then collected comic books, specifically X-Men derived titles; I really enjoyed those stories, but comic book publishers failed to learn from the mistakes of the baseball card companies, oversaturated the market, and values dropped greatly. After that came a relatively new kind of collectible: the collectible card game. Magic: The Gathering was one of the forerunners and not much needs to be said right now about that game (which I may write more about later), but another game came out of the same publisher as Magic called Netrunner.

For the unitiated, Netrunner was a collectible card game with a cyberpunk theme and what was a novel approach at the time: one player plays as the "Runner," a hacker-like individual whose sole purpose is to extract information from the Corporation, which is played by the other player. The Corporate has its own agendas, literally: the Corporation's goal is to score points by completing agendas while resisting the incursions of the Runner. Both sides have cards that are specific to their roles: Runners can use Hardware, Resource, and Icebreaker cards to assist them in penetrating the Ice, Nodes, and Upgrades of the Corporation. It was first released in 1996 and only one expansion was ever released widely for it. Netrunner was the hot game among card gamers until 1999 or so when Wizards of the Coast (the publisher of Magic: The Gathering) stopped producing it.

As I write this review, it surprises me how Netrunner is still strongly supported even 17 years after its initial release. In 1996, I purchased a few double-deck packs and several Limited and Proteus boosters. Being the collector that I was, I bought enough cards to amass almost 700 cards. But, over time, I packed the cards away and forgot about them... Until three years ago, when I unearthed my Netrunner and Magic cards. Then and now, many "professional" reviewers have pointed at Netrunner as the most well-balanced, well-designed collectible card game out there; no one card is so powerful that it tilts the game in one player's favor and is abused en masse. Based on my observations and readings, I believe that is true. I never got to play against a human opponent (I only playtested decks against myself), but I read enough of the rules and strategy guides out there to see how much more balanced cards are (despite rarity) than Magic cards are and how much more diversity there is with deck strategies than there are with Magic decks.

All of this said, an interesting thing happened regarding the first release of this review. A few weeks ago, I published this review here and at Board Game Geek, stating the following in what was the initial part of my concluding paragraph:

"As a Christian, I rid myself of Magic cards because the motif and imagery was not compatible with my convictions, despite the wonderfully complex rules, strategies, and interactions involved with Magic: The Gathering. Netrunner has a comparable level of complexity, but with only a few objectionable images and even more equality among deck designs, even with a much smaller inventory of existing cards."

After I published this review, I got quite a few replies, even some just criticisms, about my views on Netrunner vis-a-vis Magic: The Gathering and how it seemed like I found corporate espionage and murder acceptable, but not the occult imagery of Magic. I thought about it and realized that those critics were right -- my opinion of Netrunner were inconsistent with my convictions regarding the possible negative influences of games. Thus, I sold my cards, perhaps to someone who does not have the convictions I have (I had already sold off/thrown away my Magic cards).

Many people can compartmentalize their own convictions related to games because they are at peace with the notion that those games are "just games." However, for me, I feel compelled to act on my convictions, which is to say that I don't believe that playing Netrunner or any game is inherently sinful (i.e. fracturing one's relationship with God), but the themes and actions taken in a game must be considered, as well as the intent of those actions, when choosing which game to play and, more importantly, in determining what possible influences that game may have. This process of analyzing the benefits and detriments of each game is an ongoing one and there aren't many firm rules, but I do have some, such as no violence with villainous intent. As I get older and I watch my boys get older, I often ask myself, "Is any particular game something I'd want to see my boys play now?" As I seriously considered Netrunner, I concluded that I wouldn't want my boys playing this game because much of the moral decisions one makes in the game are relativistic at best; for example, as one commenter pointed out, the game glorifies hacking, which is normally a criminal activity (except for "white" hacking, which serves the purpose of testing a company's network and data security). I surmised that I did not want to convey the message to my boys that computer theft was acceptable, which led me to the overdue conclusion that Netrunner was not a game for me or my family. That said, if you, the reader, are an adult and your conscience is clear concerning Netrunner, then you should exercise your freedom to play. If anything, playing Netrunner may allow you to connect with people who would never play games with a Christian otherwise.

Max Headroom: 1HN Dystopian Portent

Whenever I mention the name "Max Headroom" to people my age, they often remember the old Coca-Cola commercials of the mid-80s or the Max Headroom show on Cinemax, but most people do not remember that for parts of two seasons, there was an ABC network show called Max Headroom (for those uber-nerds out there, I am well aware that Max Headroom debuted in Great Britain with a different pilot and mostly a different cast, but I'm focusing on the US version). To those people who recognized the name, I would tell them about that show and their eyes would glaze over. Then, I would move the conversation quickly in another direction...

Max Headroom took place in the future; "20 minutes in the future" as the opening tagline of the show stated. The series revolved around Edison Carter (played convincingly by Matt Frewer), a passionate, temperamental news reporter/cameraman, and his digital alter ego, Max Headroom, who was capricious, fun-loving, and unpredictable. Each episode involved Edison Carter attempting to investigate, at great risk to himself, a news story while aided by his trusty controller Theora Jones (Amanda Pays), his gruff, but sympathetic editor Murray (Jeffrey Tambor), and a boy genius named Bryce Lynch (Chris Young). All of the aforementioned people worked for Network 23, which was one of the most influential networks in the world. All the while, Max Headroom zoomed from TV screen to TV screen, wreaking havoc and yet assisting Edison and Theora whenever he happened to want to help.

Max Headroom was a character-driven science-fiction show that featured many fine acting performances, but what stood out was the dystopian, somewhat Blade Runner-type (but less foreboding, at least superficially) future that served as the stark backdrop for all of the episodes with crumbling ruins and towering, monolithic skyscrapers coexisting in close proximity and the poor living in ruins with nothing more than their clothes and a TV. In the future, everyone owns a TV and it has to be kept on and active and people seem to watch addictively. It is a future when networks devise advertising strategies to control people's minds and manipulate them psychologically and physically (as seen in the pilot episode during which "blipvert" three-second advertisements cause a large, slothful man to explode). Networks and massive corporations rule the landscape, the rich are indeed richer, and the poor are numerous, but never without a TV (which are handed out freely by the prevailing government). Ultimately, ratings are king, establishing a network's political and social clout with "two-way sampling" truly meaning that people watch TV and the networks watch them. In these ways, the future is almost like a main character in each episode, working for or against the intrepid Edison Carter and his trusty crew.

At the same time, there is a retro look to the future: keyboards are like clunky typewriters, cars are modeled after Packards and Tuckers (old cars from the 40s and 50s), and fashion seems to reflect a timeless sensibility wisely removed from 80s fashion... mostly. If anything, Max Headroom more resembles the film Brazil (which was released to theaters before Max Headroom was on TV; was Max Headroom influenced by Brazil?). Particularly, the character of Edison Carter is a Lone Ranger, standing against corporate and network injustice. Yet, he is also employed by a network, so he is often at odds with his own employers. Nonetheless, the never-anachronistic value of liberty over governement control is apparent in every episode.

Looking back at Max Headroom, what was especially striking about the show (besides the digitally stuttery delivery of the titular character) was that it was a view of the future that wasn't off the mark. Consider that Max Headroom was on the air 25 years ago, and yet the show foretold the ubiquity of TVs, how addictive and essential TV and video screens in general would become for people, and how much sway advertising and social media would have on people. Max Headroom was also portentous in its exposition of consumerism, which was assumed to be rampant in the future when people consume to make themselves happy and find fulfillment. Sure, discussing the rise of consumerism isn't an impressive prediction considering how consumerism was rampant in the 80s, but the satire is biting nonetheless. Moreover, the show also introduced a counter-cultural idea that is becoming more prevalent today: the idea of living off the grid, disconnected from mainstream media and utilities. These "blanks" in Max Headroom are much like the much-derided off-the-gridders of today that decry modern dependencies and favor a more wide-open, unfettered existence. It won't be long before "blanks" become more and more common today as people tire of everyone knowing everything about them and of our dependence on public utilities and foreign-grown produce.

What is more disquieting about the show in hindsight from a Christian standpoint is that the show (perhaps inadvertently) displays an End Times-type of future in which people are microchipped (at least, Metro cops are microchipped), religion is portrayed as flummery, and a global world order (ruled by TV) is suggested with corporations and ratings virtually governing people's actions. In this way, besides the principal characters, people are generally portrayed as "sheeple" who are more interested in the next TV show than in the welfare of others. Today, we are not far off from this future; we may not have flying cars (a la Blade Runner) or electromorphic AI like Max Headroom, but TV and, more alarmingly, smartphones have become essential for many. Screens of all kinds seem to hypnotize and anesthetize us as we walk around with our heads down or with our noses touching our screens.

Slowly, quietly, people are being blinded. Thirty years ago, even though I wasn't a believer in Christ, I knew about general End Times predictions. I used to scoff at the idea of microchips (aka "The Mark of the Beast") being implanted in people because I assumed that people would also know about those same End Times prediction and would avoid microchips like the plague. I used to think that someone would stop the rise of a "new world order" and deny the emergence of a leader that would herald himself as a modern savior, but would then turn against humanity. Nowadays, I'm not sure they wouldn't welcome the convenience of having their credit information and personal history implanted in their bodies; after all, it would beat carrying cash or having to carry or lose a wallet. I'm also not sure that people wouldn't welcome a unified global government with a leader that dictates our actions from on high; as long as we are entertained and given smartphones and our fair share of food and handouts, we won't want to rebel.

In summation, Max Headroom was an outstanding show that was indeed ahead of its time with predictions that are currently being played out now. The acting was top-notch and the veiled satire in each storyline was on par with the social commentary of the Twilight Zone and the original Star Trek series (which was actually a vehicle for social commentary, despite the wonderfully amusing histrionics of William Shatner). It is no wonder that this show was moved from time slot to time slot and eventually cancelled; much like Edison Carter, Max Headroom represented too much of a seering jab at TV and modern society to stick around. When I watch Max Headroom now, I am compelled to open my eyes to see a somewhat frightening world, the horrors of which are often obfuscated by "entertainment" and the self-gratification that comes with video games and constant Internet connectivity. I am reminded that people should stand up against the tyranny of our screens and resist being enfolded into a system that shall eventually monitor our every move once we surrender our freedom to be individuals. Already, Facebook and other social media sites retain our personal information and have been known to share it. Indeed, "20 minutes in the future" is now.

Role-Playing Games: A RETROspective

(Originally posted as Role-Playing Games: One Christian's Perspective on Epinions)

Okay, this is a tough one; why RPGs are a "tough" subject is something I'll explore later. So, before I offer my "brief" opinion, let me provide some background:

From the mid-80s to the mid-90s, I was a HUGE RPG fan. It all began with Choose Your Own Adventure-type books, like Lone Wolf (by Joe Dever and Gary Chalk) and the Wizards and Warriors series. As I became interested in the fantasy milieu, I delved into the "dreaded" world of Dungeons & Dragons (D&D), starting with "first edition" Advanced D&D in the 80s and then second edition in 1993. I expanded into other worlds of gaming, such as various Palladium RPG series like Robotech, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turles, and Rifts. Because I often didn't have the time or enough friends that were interested in playing RPGs, I was more of a collector and reader of the rule books than a player, though I spent countless hours rolling up characters and designing game campaigns in my head. When I did get to play, I was often the Dungeon Master (DM) or Gamemaster (GM), telling the interactive story while relatively inexperienced players assume the roles of characters. One classic session of gaming featured my friends Ed and Tim, who were brothers, playing the roles of bungling assassins. Ed's weapon of choice was a trident because it did the most damage (one twelve-sided die's worth of damage) and his primary tactic was charging at non-player characters (NPCs) with it. Ed once kicked Tim's character in the butt for double-damage (which is done by rolling a 20 on a twenty-sided die), reducing Tim's assassin to one hit point. Ah, the heady times of RPGs...

During my college years, I largely left RPGs behind in favor of comic books and, later, collectible card games, so my books sat in boxes for years until I unearthed them last year in my parents' garage. I thumbed through those old tomes, remembering the good times: games with Ed, Tim, and Brian; the hours of rolling up characters; memories of the histories of characters that existed only in my imagination; the times I walked to Comic World, eagerly awaiting the purchase of any newly-released book. At the time, RPGs seemed like intelligent, but somewhat carefree fun with wizards, fighters, clerics, and thieves intermingling in fantasy worlds of adventure and combat; the rules could be dense, esoteric, and almost impenetrable to the novice enthusiast, but RPGs were simply rules for conducting interactive games unlike any board game.

However, having given my life to Jesus in 1999 in Japan, I now peruse those books as a Christian. As a believer, I cannot help but consider some of the themes that are present in many RPGs: violence, stealing, questionable character decisions, occult imagery, the (pretend) use of magic, and the general darkness of the motifs and settings in many RPGs. I also consider the broad array of critical articles and opinions leveled at RPGs, particularly D&D, by Christians: in the 80s, D&D was linked to the suicides of obsessive players; in the 90s, the criticisms were largely redirected at card games like Magic: The Gathering, but RPGs were still viewed with scorn as gateways to the occult, witchcraft, and devil worship. Even today, RPGs, which are mostly digitized and game console-based, are nonetheless associated with the same negative influences as the paper RPGs of twenty years ago.

Anyway, I'm kind of beating around the bush, so I'll go straight to my opinion, assuming that you, the reader, have at least been exposed to RPGs either as a player or as a reader of the criticisms against RPGs. In my opinion as a believer, playing a paper-based RPG can be a fun, social event with friends who want nothing more than to make characters, do a little play-acting, and take part in an adventure told by a storyteller. Granted, there would have to be the proviso that certain things would not be done, such as playing characters that commit atrociously criminal acts in the game, worshipping deities, and summoning demons or other hellish creatures. Also, the friends would have to agree that the game would start and end at times decided beforehand, and that future games would occur only at set times -- this prevents the potentially life-sucking temptation to play daily. More than that, one would have to look critically at any game and decide if the story and the characters are an affront to Christ, but what does that mean? That would be up to the individual, in prayer and contemplation, to determine. With all of these conditions in mind, an RPG can be a viable way to spend time with friends.

All of that said, I find it extremely difficult to reconcile RPG play with a Christian worldview because most of what makes RPGs "fun" is predicated on action and violence. Now, for me, I don't have a problem imagining a quest to rescue somebody and having to fight orcs, dragons, beholders, and the like; after all, Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, who were big influences on Gary Gygax and his creation of D&D in the 1970s, often depicted epic battles between the forces of good and evil in their Christian-influenced works. But, many campaigns often involve one-on-one violence between characters and NPCs; yes, even though the violence is highly imaginary, one must question if one's imaginary actions reflect what is in one's heart. Though Jesus spoke of adultery in Matthew 5:27-30, what He says is also applicable to violence; in other words, if violence is in your heart, it is just as bad as committing the act of violence. Of course, violence is a topic I have broached before, and it is a tricky one vis-a-vis games, especially pencil-and-paper games like D&D or NES 8-bit games like Contra, but the idea that your heart can be reflected in your gameplay cannot be dismissed.

Besides violence, there is still much to consider regarding the imagery of some, but not all, RPGs. Obviously, D&D and other fantasy-based games are steeped in wizardry and occult elements while games like Robotech (which is based on the animated series of the same name) are not -- this is undeniable. One may point out once again that Tolkien and Lewis also employed such elements allegorically, and that they were using spellcasting and witchcraft as plot elements, but are these concepts that anyone, let alone children, should allow in their minds and hearts? Some would say these things are merely in-game actions; if your conviction towards such things is this, then I cannot speak against that. Likewise, if you feel convicted about having any of that in any game or medium in your household, I cannot speak against that, either. The important thing is knowing one's own weaknesses and not exposing oneself to ideas that can take away from Christ.

I could go on and on about the positive and negative aspects of paper-based RPGs, but I will just present the basic ones. The positive aspects of paper-based RPGs are the use of imagination, the inherently social nature of gameplay, the creativity necessary to conduct the games, and the sheer fun of rolling cool-looking dice. Conversely, the negative aspects of paper-based RPGs are the imagery, the incorporation of violence, the encouragement of occult activity in the game, and the temptation to spend too much time in game play and game preparation. I do not believe that RPGs are inherently satanic or demonic, and I don't believe that RPGs are categorically amoral and mind-warping, but much of what is published for game use can be all of these things -- that is the danger of paper-based RPGs. If, somehow, one can elevate the positive aspects and minimize the negative aspects, one may can have a fun time with paper-based RPGs, yet this is more easily said than done.

To close, I must mention video game-based RPGs -- the kind you play on your computer or game console. Because these games are audiovisual and presented for the player, one is both dissociated from the action and engulfed by the action: dissociated insofar as the action is external to the player's mind and reduced to button presses and hand-eye coordination, yet engulfed in that one's senses of sight and sound are enraptured by the graphics and effects of the game. In this way, PC- and console-based RPGs are no "worse" than paper-based RPGs except that console RPGs are mostly non-social and somewhat isolating while paper-based games are not; and, console RPGs require little or no preparation to play, so one can play these games anytime, which enhances the addictive qualities of such games. Plus, one has to ask oneself: what is more powerful, the imagined appearance of a monster, or the appearance of a monster as visualized in a computer or console game? I'd choose the latter because the detail is too particular and too realistic.

Battletoads Double Dragon: 3HN Violence

A few months ago, I wrote a relatively lengthy post about violence and how Christians must assess the violent content of any game. Recently, I borrowed Battletoads Double Dragon for the SNES, and by the standards of 1990s videogames, this game is pretty dang violent.

Battletoads Double Dragon is basically a beat-um-up side-scroller that combines two NES games: Battletoads and Double Dragon. Battletoads involved three anthropomorphic toads and Double Dragon featured two muscular dudes. Combined, you can choose from any of the five characters; and, like both predecessor games, you can team up with another player.

What's the point of the game? To kick enemy butt -- that's it. You (and another player) run from left to right punching, kicking, and throwing any foe that crosses your path. From a gameplay standpoint, this game is a disappointment. Out of the six possible buttons, there are only two buttons used for unique functions: attack and jump. It's like Tradewest ported an NES game directly to SNES and upgraded the graphics, but retained NES gameplay. In this way, the game is lackluster.

Otherwise, Battletoads Double Dragon is mindless and oddly cathartic, though it is disturbing that dudes beat up on whip-wielding ladies, as skanky as them may be. I can say with certainty that this game does not exemplify Christ, but if it's any consolation most of the foes are robots and alien creatures... I will be returning this game to the coworker from whom I borrowed it. I am thankful I didn't buy it.

What Defines a (Iron) Man?

Yesterday, I pondered that which defines a man. I started off from the dangerous standpoint of what I cannot or do not do: I can't fix a car, plan a camping trip, program my own website, engage in martial-arts beatings, use a firearm, kill game with my bare hands, ride a mechanical bull, lasso a real-life bull, drink alcohol, or urinate for great distances. There were many guys at my old church that could do many of these things and they formed a nice group of men that could band together in the end times to form a viable commune and defend it with an acumen for survivalism and shotguns.

I then thought about what I could do: I can speak Japanese, teach linguistics or history or English, fix my computer, cook dinner, clean my house, iron my clothes, connect and configure electronic equipment, use an SLR camera, play most sports okay, run five miles, and write reviews, blog entries, and/or academic essays.

When I compared the lists, I became despondent because my skill set really does not correspond with what most men (even men in our churches) equate to masculinity. I began to ask myself: if the poop were to hit the proverbial oscillating fan, could I protect myself and my family? Could I stand up for myself? As the self-questioning questions flooded over me, I grew even more distraught.

But, this morning, I kept in mind the best answer I could muster -- that answer being to look at Jesus. He was indeed the Man -- self-sacrificial of his time and health, wise to always ask for His Father's help, courageous in the face of an inevitably painful crucifixion, and loving of humanity enough to reach out to both the masses (from the Mount, feeding the 5,000 with two fish and a loaf of bread) and the individual (Zacchaeus, Martha, Mary, and so on).

Thus, I was reminded that my yardstick of comparison should not be the guys at church, but the Man who is the head of the Church. Of course, I fall short of that yardstick as do us all, but I have to believe that I can do all these things in He who strengthens me. If I can strive to do those things, I could indeed protect my family and ensure my own safety with much more God-given strength than just being able to pummel any foe.

Then again, even David had a sling. :)

Christian Retrogamer? You Must Be Joking!

Okay.

I was thinking about it today, and it struck me that a "Christian retrogaming" blog is, frankly, an inane concept. Don't followers of Jesus have better things to do than pontificate and/or reminisce about the vagaries of 20-year-old games from the 8-bit and 16-bit eras? Definitely...

But, the reality is that retrogaming is a hobby and we all have hobbies. Christians watch movies, play sports, enjoy eating food, and enjoy other ancillary aspects of the world without idolizing those things; within reason, why not videogames? Sadly, the content of videogame-related blogs and fansites range from civilly amoral to downright profane and disgusting. Really, outside of professional review sites like IGN and GameSpot (which are worldly, as well -- I mean, some of the games they "have to review" are not edifying at all), it's hard to go to a website and read and comment about videogames and NOT have to contend with cursing, nasty talk, and ugly bickering.

My goal is to provide a platform upon which enthusiasts can feel safe to comment on old videogames in a thought-provoking way WITHOUT having to deal with knuckleheads. That's what Retrobeliever is all about. There are Christian movie sites, Christian book sites, and Christian music sites... why can't there be Christian gaming sites?

More than simply talking and sharing about old videogames, I want this blog to provide a platform for encouragement. After all, videogame playing is just a hobby -- Christ should, and must be, the center of our lives.

Coming Together

"For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them." (Matthew 18:20)

Just a random thought: video games have the benefit of potentially drawing people together. However, just being together is not enough; there has to be the intent to interact and cultivate friendship. In this way, certain video game sessions may be a great way to draw together fellow Jesus believers...

Every so often, a few Christian friends of mine and I get together for what we lamely call "man-dates." Ugh, what a terrible phrase to have in the American English lexicon... Anyway, we get together, play some Wii Sports or whatever, and then have some prayer time. Okay, maybe it's also "lame" that we play Wii and THEN pray, but at least these man gatherings draw guys together. If it results in some prayer, then I say that the time spent hanging out takes on deeper significance.

Video games can draw people together, especially men who stereotypically engage in profound conversation and emotive reflection only when coerced or bribed. Video games, like sports, provide a platform for exploring deeper issues man-to-man.

Okay, I'm belaboring the point. Time to stop.

Ciao!

Violence and Video Games: A RETROspective

Hello Everyone!

Anyway, I wanted to open up on my views regarding violence and video games by stating that I don't believe I can aptly discuss such a subject with one brief blog entry. So, I will start off with this primer and then continuously augment my views as I write more posts. In other words, you, the reader, will surmise my views on violence and video games as more and more posts come out.

All of that said, here's my very basic view on how violence can be defined in video games: violence is largely defined by the depicted act and the intent of the act. Much is made of the results of violence: the gore, the blood, death. Of course, the aftermath of violence is important and all too prevalent in many of the video games made today. Heads being blown off, body parts strewn about, and other graphic depictions of the aftermath of violence are more often used to define how "bad" violence is. However, I think that violence is more about how it is committed and, more important, why it is committed.

Take an NES game like Contra. You've got two guys with big guns (upgradeable, mind you), shooting up bad guys and alien creatures. I break it down like this: each act of violence is depicted by weapon fire hitting a foe and the foe falling into oblivion; and, ostensibly, the intent of each act of violence is "saving the world," or "getting the bad guy out of the way," or "to get out your aggression on a virtual foe," or whatever. At a glance, Contra is admittedly violent.

Now, take any recently released military or action-themed game. You've got a big guy (or gal) with many weapons. Each act of violence is depicted with relative anatomical accuracy. The intent: could be anything. At a glance, these games are also violent.

But, let me ask: which is more violent? Contra or, say, Halo? We have to ask certain questions:

• What is my intent for playing the game? (e.g. to vicariously save the world)
  
• What is my approach to the game? (e.g. to relieve stress)
  
• How are acts of violence depicted?
• Does the realism of the act and the aftermath of the act make a game "more" violent?

Beyond these questions, as a believer in Jesus, I have to ask:

• By playing a violent game, how is the violence influencing me?
• How does it affect my witness as a believer?
• Does the violence of this game glorify or defame Jesus? (the answer is not easy, trust me)

I hope to explore these questions as I go. In the meantime, feel free to offer input. Thanks!

Welcome to RetroBeliever

Hello everyone, and welcome to RetroBeliever.

What is RetroBeliever?

Well, this blog basically reviews and reflects on video games from the past from a Christian perspective. Of course, as time goes on, this blog will branch out into other forms of media for the sake of maintaining interest, but the primary purpose of this blog is to provide insights and information about games from gaming consoles such as the Nintendo Entertainment System (NES), Super Nintendo Entertainment System (SNES), the Sega Genesis, and other consoles that now fall under the retrogaming umbrella. Thus, this blog is a Christian retrogaming blog.

Now, when it comes to writing for this blog, I will stick with one general rule: make it short. Lengthy blogs are difficult to read with all the scrolling, as well as downright unaesthetic -- I mean, who wants to scroll down pages and pages just to get to the previous post? I don't! So, please comment if you feel my posts are too length because, frankly, lengthy posts are annoying.

I hope that you enjoy this blog. Stick around for my thoughts and reviews of old video games (and maybe some relatively new ones, as well).