Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Consumed: Or, When Good Arguments Go Bad




            After many hours reading, reviewing, and contemplating Consumed, I have come to the conclusion that I do not appreciate Benjamin Barber’s work. In working my way through the text, I found myself struggling time and again either to see legitimacy in his arguments, follow a passage that was not either repetitive or random, or find a section that did not insult me as a reader. Certainly, Barber points out a number of societal aspects and shortcomings of modern culture, and I believe some of his points deserve more development. Yet I also believe that the subjects in Barber’s Consumed are best discussed by an individual with greater skill in writing. As has become evident to me, I am not the only individual to perceive Consumed in such a way.
            Firstly, let me restate that Barber makes valid observations about our society. His notion of civic schizophrenia, which “divides the choosing self into opposing fragments and ultimately denies legitimacy to the fragment we understand to be ‘civic’ or ‘public’” (Barber 128), is worth attention. Current prevailing attitudes in the U.S promote more individualistic and self-promoting choices, with regard for common welfare often relegated to the back-seat. I do not think people actively seek out to deny public prosperity, but the oft-mentioned “tragedy of the commons” is a very real issue, born of personally rational behavior but yielding publically irrational outcomes. One can apply the idea of civic schizophrenia to governments and nations just as well as individuals, as the current state of the Earth’s environment suffers from argument and debate between global bodies. Countries naturally seek out their best options, economically and politically, but this can lead to destructive results. In reading over the section, I related Postman’s End of Education, particularly his “Spaceship Earth” narrative, to some of the themes that Barber was discussing.
            Similarly, I was rather interested in Barber’s section on “Restoring Capitalism”, in which he discusses how the market economy we have may be utilized to address very real and prevalent problems. The problems, however, are those of global need and lack of efficient means of living (as in impoverished African or South American regions). Barber’s central thesis, with regards to infantilization, is relevant in how wealthy nations have a consumer basis for “faux” needs, and marketers and producers fail to address the real needs of Earth’s populations. Yet the “Restoring Capitalism” section presents intriguing options for addressing the world’s struggling populations. Barber addresses three main examples, “C.K Prahalad’s strategy of mining ‘the fortune at the bottom of the [consumer] pyramid’… Muhammad Yunus’s idea for lifting women and their families out of poverty through microcredit… and Hernando de Soto’s inventive idea of addressing poverty by legalizing informal and black-market elements of the private economy” (Barber 320). The topics introduced in the section were exciting and worth development, as I found the entrepreneurial creativity of the discussed individuals refreshing. For a brief moment, Barber was exploring actual solutions to, what I believe, are the more important issues in his book.
            For I observed countless instances of Barber going on useless, insulting, or poorly-written tangents throughout Consumed, and the majority of his writing detracted from the gems that are buried in the book’s pages. A prime example can be found in “Reel Change”, a section dedicated to the “rationalization” of entertainment like movies. I became alienated when Barber brought up videogames, stating that games are for “men-boys interested in surrogative violence and time-consuming, mind-bending, highly competitive, often murderous play” (Barber 310). Apparently, according to Barber, I am a man-boy who favors crassness and stupor-inducing violence-porn. Not only does Barber express his own ignorance of the subject by stating that you “win on-line games like World of Warcraft”, but he portrays his argument in a very opinionated and sensationalist fashion. Never mind the complete confusion I experienced in the following paragraph, where Barber states that “there have been interesting attempts at using the genre to counter its pernicious effect and to achieve worthier ends”, then goes on to talk about a game “permitting players to shoot virtual Israeli soldiers” (Barber 311). The entire passage further removed me from Barber’s work, and it begs the question of where else Barber poorly manages his material.
            In researching Consumed, I found two writers who poignantly express the qualms I feel with the book. A review by the Cato Institute, written Will Wilkinson, states “Barber seems to dislike consumer capitalism so much because it is so at odds with the ideals that moves him. If his argument is going to be persuasive, those ideals need to move us too, but Barber is too busy mugging, skylarking, and relentlessly repeating himself to give skeptical readers reason to see the appeal in his moral vision” (Wilkinson 297). The review mentions a problem that I established earlier: that the worthy parts of Barber’s book are overshadowed by his unfortunate handling of the subject. The review goes on to mentions Barber’s usage of support, saying “some-one should tell him that gung-ho advertising executives advertising the effectiveness of advertising is not in fact the best evidence of the effectiveness of advertising. The argument of Consumed is a barrage of small facts tenuously connected by under motivated pet theories … which at best add up to a vague impression that there may be some evidence that supports the thesis” (Wilkinson 297). Both statements, in my opinion, are valid criticisms of Consumed and are worth attention. A review of Consumed by The New York Times, by Pamela Paul, expresses that “ultimately, Barber fails to tie the disparate strands into a coherent argument. Much of the book feels as if it were cobbled together by a series of grad students with a Nexis account” (“Proceed to Checkout”, The New York Times). Yet, like myself, Pamela Paul expresses sorrow at how Barber handled the book, asserting that his shortcomings are “a shame, because the messages contained in “Consumed” are important”.
                I apologize for the lengthy and potentially baseless reaction that I have written. But, as we are AP Language and Composition students, I think it is important to explore the nitty-gritty elements and usages of writing, when good or bad. If anything, Consumed demonstrated to me how an argument that is captivating at its core can be mangled by its author. Certainly, I do not mean to rip Barber’s work to shreds, nor invalidate the man. However, based on my observations, inspections, and deliberation regarding Consumed, I can say that I dislike his writing. And that is why I have made such an effort in this reaction post: I disapprove of the work but approve of the ideas, and this conflict has compelled me to explore Consumed as best as I can.



Works Cited
Barber, Benjamin. Consumed: How Markets Corrupt Children, Infantilize Adults, and Swallow      Citizens Whole. New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 2008. Print

Paul, Pamela. “Proceed to Checkout.” The New York Times. The New York Times, 8 April 2007.             Web. 6 Nov. 2013.

Wilkinson, Will. “Book Review: Consumed”. The Cato Journal 27.2 (2007): 297. Web. 6 Nov.     2013.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

Cultural Relevance in Present Shock (Also, an Appearance by "Isaac and Ishmael")

While I did not find Present Shock to be as personally compelling as The End of Education, I did enjoy the work thoroughly and find validity in many of Rushkoff’s claims. At first glance, I was dubious as to whether or not Present Shock would provide a rational and level-headed discussion on the subject of modern society. Yet when I really got into the text, I found that Rushkoff had plenty of support from very real and very relevant examples for his arguments. Even his most basic claim, of society’s conflict with modern culture and technology, is developed and shaped nicely as the five core facets of “present shock” are elaborated upon. Narrative collapse (which fits snugly with Postman’s work), Digiphrenia. Overwinding, Fractalnoia, and Apocalypto all contained respectable and thought-provoking claims.
As I said, Rushkoff provides a multitude of examples throughout his work (sometimes an exorbitant amount), but I feel as though this really helped me get behind the book. When discussing narrative collapse, Rushkoff cites shows such as Battlestar Galactica in describing the fragmented meta-narrative that has come in to replace older methods of storytelling. When Rushkoff explains how competitive games are losing their effect in the present age, he turns instead to the notion of “infinite games”, referencing Dungeons and Dragons and World of Warcraft as examples. By providing such culturally relevant examples, and being responsible and knowledgeable in his treatment of the material, Rushkoff makes his points incredibly lucid for me. Of course, what works for me may not work for others, but the sheer amount of support in Present Shock practically ensures that no reader is ever left in the dark.
I suppose the cultural relevance that Present Shock brings to the table is what makes the reading so refreshing. Postman’s works possess valid claims, but Amusing Ourselves to Death was not written in the past decade. Present Shock, conversely, is so steeped in our modern culture that it almost gains credibility by being current. At one point, during the Digiphrenia section, Rushkoff mentions the Gawker media group and its affiliate blogs like Gizmodo and Kotaku. These are sites that I regularly visit, and I grew much more engaged with the text when I started reading the passage. In discussing the tense and overloaded work schedule of the sites’ employees, Rushkoff mentions how “… bloggers, designers, lovers, and programmers all sacrifice their connection to natural and emergent rhythms and patters in order to match those dictated by their technologies and the artificial situations they create” (Rushkoff 97). From that point on, I have looked at the material I have been consuming in a different light and really begun to consider the implications of Rushkoff’s words.
Still, there were passages without immediately relevant examples that still felt poignant for me. Just like Postman in End of Education, Rushkoff has a number of moments where he makes truly provocative comments on human society and how we might cope with our situation. Two particular comments come from his Overwinding section, in which he is discussing human communities and the “tragedy of the commons”. Rushkoff states that “the greater community becomes the way we bank our time and experience” (Rushkoff 194). After a long haul through passages of investment and currency exchange, this comment stood out. Suddenly, the myriad of contexts and ideas that Rushkoff had presented during the chapter came around full circle, wrapping up in a recommendation of how to better ourselves. I enjoyed the optimistic, humanist remarks that Rushkoff made with the ending of each chapter.
I would be remiss not to mention the “Isaac and Ishmael” episode of The West Wing that we watched in class. Overall, I found “Isaac and Ishmael” to be a fairly interesting and engaging piece of television. The episode had a message that it wanted to make clear, and it wasted no time or energy in skipping about its blatant lesson. But I did not mind the obvious nature of the story or its presentation. In connecting the episode to our recent reading of Present Shock, I feel as though some observations can be made.

In Rushkoff’s section on narrative collapse, he mentions how television has become more focused on fairly present-minded narratives (examples in CSI or Heroes, where the characters are working with particular moments in time). I think one can tie this notion of a sustained moment to “Isaac and Ishmael”, where the narrative is not presented over a sustained series of episodes, or even events, but takes place over one short window. The “crash” forces the students together, and in a contained lunchroom (and contained moment of time) the messages that the show writers want to convey are made. There is no pause for development as the narrative is delivered, bam, over an instant. Of course, this is largely on purpose, as the specific episode was a black-sheep amidst the season in its play-like nature. But the ability for the show-writers to take West Wing mid-season and create a sustained bubble of time demonstrates a trait of more modern, presentist media and narratives.

Rushkoff, Douglas. Present Shock. New York: Penguin Group, 2013.
Print.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

A Moveable Feast: An Impression

            Hemingway was a complicated man with a simple writing style. Those who have read The Sun Also Rises, or any other book by Hemingway, will likely agree with this statement. Living in a post-war era of abandoned tradition, forgotten values, and a lost generation, Ernest Hemingway was one among many who felt adrift. His interaction amidst a society of exiles in foreign countries (in Hemingway’s case, Paris) fed both his problems and his inspiration. Within A Moveable Feast, the conflict and satisfaction that Hemingway experienced in his early writing career become apparent. The reader is afforded a glimpse of an integral part of Hemingway’s life, a blurry and streaked vision of the civility, hostility, and humanity of Hemingway’s Paris.
            The narrative within A Moveable Feast is difficult for me to form an opinion on. But perhaps such difficulty is a mark of the text’s success. For despite the direct, declarative nature of Hemingway’s writing (which eschews adjectives in favor of conjunctions), his A Moveable Feast remains rather confusing. This quality is not due to the construction of the content; rather, it is a quality created by the delivery of the content. All of Hemingway’s life-changing, disastrous, or mundane memories of Paris are not meant to be provided in his memoir. Instead, A Moveable Feast appears to be designed as a rush of memories with an express purpose of creating an impression. Surely Hemingway himself could not vividly recount every major detail of his Paris era. Yet he was able to isolate certain choice experiences and throw them together.
            In weaving such a fragmented tapestry of life in Paris, Hemingway creates meaning without even writing a word. The sentences are there, yes, but they represent something greater. The passages of A Moveable Feast coalesce into a fireside chat, echoing the sensation of one’s grandfather telling a story. The room is darkly lit, the cold air is being warmed by the cozy heat of the burning logs, and you are receiving a long, calm tale of some long-gone age. At least, such a notion is what I receive. Throughout Hemingway’s simple, subtle text, I experience a vague feeling of nostalgia, as well as an indistinct passage of time.
            Admittedly, I was rather perplexed when I first started reading A Moveable Feast, as I could not really connect the text to current studies in AP Lang. Hemingway is all well and good, but I was unable to connect his work to studies of articles, arguments, and use of language. Then I realized that A Moveable Feast is rooted deeply in concepts of language use and how words affect meaning. The book is not “1920s Paris as it was” but rather “1920s Paris as portrayed by Ernest Hemingway”. Hemingway is very controlling in his portrayals of his friends, acquaintances, and undesirables. For instance, Ford Madox Ford is presented in a very particular light, as his presence is described as “heavy, wheezing, ignoble” (Hemingway 86). In a subsequent chapter, “The Birth of a New School”, Hemingway relates an entire conversation with an unknown critic. The description of the critic speaks unfavorably against the unfortunate man. Hemingway’s closing remarks, that “It would be interesting and instructive if the young man had turned out to be a famous critic but it did out turn out that way” (Hemingway 96) leaves the unnamed critic as an embarrassed footnote in the broad scope of Hemingway’s memoir, almost as an insult.

            Truly, given Hemingway’s reign over his own memory, any recounted conversation or event is bound to have partiality, prejudice, or plain error. By studying the ways in which Hemingway creates definitive tones and impressions, we study use of language in affecting and influencing the reader. Given the nature of A Moveable Feast, separating fact from fictionalized truth is a very difficult task to take up (impossible without consulting outside sources). If I were to describe the work as any one genre, I would likely declare it autobiographical. However, as I wrote earlier, A Moveable Feast is more a sensation than anything. It is a blurry and nostalgic story of another time and place.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

The End of Education: Not as Final as I Thought

            The experience I had in reading Postman’s The End of Education was notably better than what I anticipated. When I had read his work, Amusing Ourselves to Death, I had come to appreciate Postman and his argument but was not wholly swayed by him. However, after reading The End of Education I can say I am much more enthusiastic about Postman. In reading the critical analysis of modern education, its roles in society, and what society expects of school, I found many of my prior musings on education to be echoed by Postman. In the end, I came away from the text with a stronger sense of my own opinions and beliefs regarding the modern school system.
            During the summer between by Sophomore and Junior year of high school, I experienced a bit of a metaphysical crisis. Over the two-month interim between school years, I had more time than normal to think, and more subjects than normal to think about. In my contemplations, I developed a startling realization that I faced a potential future of no fulfillment. Within a few years, I would be going off to college, and I had very little sense of what career I desired to pursue. But my wonderings of career led to lifestyle, and potential futures of society, then of the world. Soon enough, my pursuit to get good grades, then a good job, then maybe a house seemed incredibly petty and insignificant in the broader scope of existence.
            Why on Earth am I talking about my mental anxieties? Postman, in End of Education, explores an issue with modern society that directly links back to my stress during my summer of crisis. I have come to realize that Postman’s argument on modern “gods” that fail society is the same notion I arrived at a few years ago. I felt a hole, a pit, opening up in my near future, and realized that my entire drive for schooling needed a shift. In a similar way, Postman proposes his “Gods that may serve” within End of Education, and these gods certainly resonate with me.
            I felt particular attraction to Postman’s “Spaceship Earth” proposal. The emphasis on humanity as caretakers of one, great world-ship really spoke to me. In speaking on how we, as a species, should interact with the planet, Postman states that “we must make it. And to make it requires a consciousness of our interdependence, as well as an encouragement and legitimization of the effort (Postman 101).” The environment, as well as the sustainability of human existence, is a subject which leaps out at me as callings for study. All other issues, especially the persistent inter-conflict of our species, become incredibly irrelevant if the planet beneath our feet dies. Postman’s “Spaceship Earth” narrative reflects a lot of the beliefs I have developed regarding human priorities. Yet he also gives the narrative a very human perspective through his encouragement of humanist approaches to subjects. Postman believes that educators must give “attention to the history of ‘subjects’ so that there might be some understanding of how, when, and why subjects were formed (Postman 103).” By having society examine where we have been as a species, what we have done, and the methods of our actions, we can better come to understand ourselves now and give direction to our future.
            While some of Postman’s recommendations are, as he freely admits, a little curious, he raises very valid arguments regarding modern education. I sincerely appreciated his work, as I finally found the words to describe my impressions of society. A new voice has been given to me for solidifying my metaphysical ideas.

Work Cited

Postman, Neil. The End of Education: Redefining the Value of School. New York: Vintage            Books, 1996. Print.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Videogames, Violence, and Cultural Conundrums


Civil peace activists scored another victory today against the enemies of public health. Earlier this morning, legislators passed a bill mandating government take-over of all remaining videogame entertainment companies. The passage came as another blow to the gross supporters of free enterprise for “game development”. Rita Rosnec, a prominent lobbyist for AFCM (Americans for Clean Minds), proposed the bill early last year and received a wealth of support. Since then, Rosnec has become the leading spokesperson in the war on videogames and game entertainment. Speaking to reporters today, Rosnec said that “We are approaching a golden age of safe, secure, nonviolent freedom for our youth”.
            This development comes after a long line of other gains over “gamer culture”. Two years ago, the federal government successfully implemented a license system for the ownership and usage of gaming systems and software. Three years before that, in 2015, the government ordered that videogames featuring violence of any kind be automatically given an 18+ rating by the ESRB. In recent years, it has become a misdemeanor for kids to play games outside of their age rating, and a punishable offence for stores and suppliers to sell videogame material to unlicensed individuals. All across the nation, parents have been rejoicing with the newfound control the government has taken over videogames.
            The victories were strictly in the electronic sphere, either. Arguably corruptive “pen-and-paper” games have seen their own share of regulation. Since the 1980s, parents have expressed dissatisfaction at the notions of children playing games like Dungeons and Dragons or Shadowrun. Such activities, which require “roleplaying”, or assuming the personality and demeanor of imaginary monsters, sent red alerts to active mothers. Plenty of responsible groups, including parent-teacher associations and church societies, realized the harmful effects of such games on the minds and emotions of youth. However, the push against these “pen-and-paper” games had to wait until gains against more modern entertainment to be acknowledged. Now, only adults are permitted to play such loathsome things as D&D, and they are obligated by law to alert neighbors of the fact they are players.
            The future looks bright for the U.S as stricter control is exercised over such brash and reckless means of entertainment as videogames. Rosnec, speaking at an AFCM rally last month, declared that “We as a people are entering a brighter society. The shining minds of our young are clean of the filth that once proceeded from such devilish works as games”. When an attendee of the rally brought up the low decrease in violence over the past five years, Rosnec challenged that “The effects of our work will take time to notice. First we must remove the blade. Only then can we heal”. To this, Rosnec received great applause.

            Even individuals not thoroughly immersed in gaming culture understand its impact on society. Since the late 20th century, games have emerged as valid and engaging modes of entertainment for the public. While the first few years of may have seen the proliferate use of terms like “geek” and “nerd” to describe a rather aloof cultural group, gamers today endure no such separation. Now, in 2013, videogames are widely accepted, with both old and young citizens finding commonalities in their love of franchises like Pokemon, World of Warcraft, and Minecraft. Even tabletop games like Dungeons and Dragons or Warhammer have assumed more familiar, if not as popular, places in modern society. Of course, the issue explored in the hypothetical future above is not the cultural relevance of games, but the cultural impact of violent games.
            Anyone remotely engaged in videogame news and reports has seen the way modern media reporters treat games. Any time a violent shooting or incident occurs, especially in relation to young children, a common scapegoat for the whole affair becomes videogames. As news outlets churn out coverage after coverage of some unfortunate event, the idea of “violent videogames corrupting society’s minds” seems to take precedent over more pressing concerns. Barely twenty-four hours passed after the recent shooting in Washington, D.C before reporters were trying to link the gunman to excessive videogame consumption. Several weeks ago, when a young child was found to have shot his old caretaker with a handgun, the issue that surfaced was not “Why did the child have access to a handgun?” but rather “The child was playing Grand Theft Auto IV at time of incident”. Sensationalism and scare-media have become core tenets of news coverage, giving rise to quick and thoughtless scape-goating in order to garner views.
                This is not to say that videogames are not violent. Certainly, the new generation of videogames has seen an explosion of narratives and gameplay that are wholly focused on violent conflict (Gears of War, Call of Duty, Assassin’s Creed, etc). Such franchises are also incredibly popular in the market, and thus their influence and pervasiveness cannot be doubted. “The Agony and the Exidy: A History of Video Game Violence and the Legacy of Death Race”, an article on gamestudies.org, explores violent videogames and their societal impacts. In discussing current sales, the article says “the ESRB reported that only 5% of the games rated by the board received an M, or ‘Mature’ rating, but five of the ten top-selling games that year were rated M (Narcisse, 2011). All five of these M-rated top sellers – Call of Duty: Black Ops, Halo: Reach, Red Dead Redemption, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2, and Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood – received their M-rating largely for violence (Kocurek).” Despite the relatively smaller classification of mature, violent games, public consumption seems to indicate its preference for such titles. The article continues on to make a rather insightful observation, that it “is worth noting as these games continue to adhere to acceptable discussions of violence and are by degrees less controversial than the transgressive violence depicted in Death Race, Carmageddon, and the GTA franchise (Kocurek).”
            There lie within the passage two points worth particular consideration: that our modern society possesses acceptable discussions of violence, and that some, but not all, videogames adhere to these discussions. In discussing violence with regards to ethical necessity, as in the case of a Western like Red Dead Redemption, or in the case of military action, as in Call of Duty or Halo, videogames are permissible. However, when a videogame begins to portray violence in the more wanton and criminal sense, such as in Grand Theft Auto, then society feels compelled to speak out against the fact. Society does seem to possess certain prejudices towards portrayals of violence (and actual acts or causes of violence). Yet these prejudices do appear to hold up across mediums.
            For instance, Pulp Fiction is a film which features violence within a fairly criminal and lawless sense. The Godfather is another film which features criminal violence. I select these two movies specifically due to their popularity and their usage of less-traditional protagonists.  When people watch such films, they are experiencing a violent narrative from the perspective of, by society’s standards, the bad guys. Certain television series, such as Sons of Anarchy, exhibit similar characteristics. Yet general tolerance of the violence seems to plummet when the narrative becomes interactive with the consumer (a la videogames).
            Based on this information, public treatment of violent videogames seems to be spurred from the interactivity. For many people, there is the experience of watching a thug beat up a bloodied innocent, and then there is the experience of controlling the thug. Perhaps there is some form of guilt or disgust that swells within certain people who play violent games, unable to separate digital worlds from reality. Yet the real issue, and the reason why so many individuals from outside of gamer culture react negatively towards violent games, is with other people, not themselves. A fear exists that other individuals, other gamers, play violent videogames to relish in the violence, to gain some thrill from it. Or, certain gamers may be unable to separate digital worlds from reality for the wrong reasons, and their sense of morals or ethics dissolves into a bloodlust for their fellow man.
Such was the case when the media discovered that Adam Lanza, of the Sandy Hook Massacre, played videogames. The same allegation has been placed on the Washington, D.C gunman. By being allowed to interact with violent worlds, to carry out violent actions vicariously through in-game avatars, these individuals become aggressive monsters. So the headlines read their tired, fear-mongering titles of “Videogames to Blame”. Kotaku, a media site dedicated to gamer culture, consistently reports on social, political, or economic events regarding videogames. One article, “Before Violent Video Games, There Were Just Plain Violent Games”, covers a Youtube video authored through PBS which discusses violence as part of our culture. The Kotaku article sums up that games—be they contested on fields, playing boards or game consoles—either involve or allegorize violence (Good).” Thousands of youth compete and perform in violent athletics which feature high states of aggression (football, lacrosse, wrestling). But, I admit, there is a line to be drawn between the violence in athletic competition and the depiction of manslaughter in an interactive medium.
            The idea that certain individuals may be negatively impacted by violent videogames is worth attention. Some people may not possess completely sound minds which enable immersion in violent acts and conflict. The perpetrator of the Aurora shooting in Colorado, James Holmes, was evidently in need of emotional or mental aid, and depictions of violence, as in the Dark Knight trilogy, did not help his fragile state. Of course, he also stockpiled an absurd amount of weaponry and volatile substances. Where then are we led to scrutinize? Violent entertainment, public health, arms limitations? There is no easy, sure-fire solution to ending the violent outbursts which the U.S has been witness to in recent years.
            If society is largely in fear of violent videogames, then we have bigger concerns than the next installment of Grand Theft Auto. Games are not meant for everyone. A ratings system exists for a reason. A parent who lets their child play Call of Duty without any comprehension of the game, its gameplay, or narrative, is no better than one who lets their child watch Saw, or play with matches. Mature games exist for mature audiences. Yet what do we do when the mature audience cannot handle the game? Certainly do not blame the game, at least not blindly. For the sheer magnitude of people who play games, you would think mass shootings might occur every day with such logic as Fox News or CNN possess. Can there be gross representations of violence in videogames? Absolutely, just as there are gross representations of violence in film and literature (not so much as in television, though The Walking Dead may have a word on that). Unfortunately, videogames are a new form of medium in society, and their place is yet to be determined, their definitions still to be made. The unsure nature of games leaves them open to a society hungry for easy answers to truly complicated questions.



Works Cited
Good, Owen. “Before Violent Videogames, There Were Just Plain Violent Games.” Kotaku.        Gawker, n.d. Web. 22 Sep. 2013.
Kocurek, Carly. “The Agony and the Exidy: A History of Videogame Violence and the Legacy   of Death Race.” Game Studies. Game Studies, n.d. Web. 22 Sep. 2013