Plowshares into Skyhooks: The Evolution (Intelligent Design?) of Bible Games
Frequent readers will note my intimate familiarity with the Evangelical subculture. We had our own hit novels, our own major motion pictures, and, of course, our own games.
Frequent readers will note my intimate familiarity with the Evangelical subculture. We had our own hit novels, our own major motion pictures, and, of course, our own games.
Be careful, little ears, what you hear
Be careful, little ears, what you hear
For the Father up above is looking down in love
So be careful little ears, what you hear
Speaking informally the other day I found myself saying that the “Mario franchise can be understood as surrealist.” Is this true?
It is the responsibility of videogames to teach us how to play them. Before the game can even really strut its stuff, it has to play the role of teacher.
My problem is a frustrating one; but one common to churchgoers, political activists, and students of all stripes. I would venture a guess that pretty much everyone who’s ever been regarded as an official part of a community has encountered this dilemma at one point or another.
Videogames can and do change our behavior, even more so if the experience is engaged by a player with the preconceived, conscious intention of being positively transformed.
Anyway, one day in fairly recent memory, I broke up with my girlfriend of three years.A couple of weeks after the fact, my ubiquitous mix of detached boredom and intensely focused curiosity compelled me to sit down, download and play Bastion.
Cool breeze flows in through the screen door, the glass parted to allow the air inside the living room to stir. It is October of 2006, and I am alone.
Let me tell you a story. Videogames had just entered the scene, electronic play was still a novelty, consisting of young families clustered around television screens in absolute awe and rapture. And it was into this milieu that Polybius was born.