For most of our younger readers, school's no longer in session in observation of the midsummer months -- though we're certain that our studious readers won't allow their minds become dull as rusty butter knives during their valuable vacation time. That's why we turn your attention to a fascinating article written by PS3 Fanboy's newest columnist, Ph.D candidate and gaming enthusiast Kylie Prymus, who examines the effect that the Escher-esque Echochrome can have on our perception of our own three-dimensional world.

Prymus posits that Echochrome's unique, manipulatable 2D perspective is not only jarring when compared to the robust 3D engines we've become accustomed to seeing in most games, but it also points out the "frailty of our own perceptual apparatus", which is fundamentally two-dimensional. Those who still possess unblown minds might want to give the article a read -- if only to give you some Hawking-quality discussion material with which to impress your gaming cohorts.

The oft-proclaimed "Master of Horror" never was much of a gamer -- he'll be the first to admit that. That's probably for the best; it would be hard to consistently produce the pants-soiling stories he's known for if he spent his days wasting away in front of his computer, looking for a PUG for the Hellfire Citadel. However, that doesn't mean he'll sit idly by as the gaming industry gets remorselessly hassled by The Man.

In a recent column for Entertainment Weekly, Stephen King decried HB 1423, a pending bill in the Massachusetts state legislature, which would outright ban the sale of "violent video games" to minors -- effectively circumventing the ESRB ratings system altogether. King, who knows a thing or two about violence, dissects the bill as eloquently as you'd expect, saying that politicians use pop culture as a "whipping boy," to illicit a passionate response from fans of the beleaguered medium, and to ignore "the elephants in the living room." Wait, you mean the popularity of violent video games isn't the biggest crisis facing the country? Get out of town!

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

Super Columbine Massacre creeps me out.

Maybe that's what designer Danny Ledonne had in mind. If so, mission accomplished. Ledonne clearly wanted to use the game medium to explore the motivations of killers Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold. Whether you like his methodology or not, there's a famous piece of yellowed paper resting under glass in the National Archives that says he's free to express himself however he pleases. But whatever Ledonne's purpose in creating SCMRPG, the negative mainstream publicity surrounding the controversial game is not good for the video game industry. Game publishers ought to be proactively making it clear that Super Columbine Massacre isn't a product of their tribe.

Why?

Because the idea that a game company might be so craven as to profit from the Columbine massacre is hurting the industry. Because non-gaming types simply don't understand the difference between LeDonne's self-made art project and a multimillion dollar commercial game product like, say, Rockstar's Bully.

That was never more clear than during last week's hearing of the Public Utilities and Technology Committee of the Utah House of Representatives. There, confusion reigned as one legislator asked what Bully, "the Columbine game," was rated. A second legislator, the sponsor of a video game bill before the committee responded, "The Columbine game's rated Teen."

Scary, huh?

This week, Bonnie Ruberg contributes to Off the Grid, Scott Jon Siegel's column on gaming away from the television screen or monitor.

Scrabble is not a sexy game. When you think of Scrabble, what do you see? Family gatherings at your Aunt Mae's spent quibbling over proper nouns? Conventions of blue-haired grandmothers and smarty-pants girls in braces, all clutching their Scrabble dictionaries? Maybe Scrabble deserves its homely image, after all -- as board games go -- it's pretty dull-looking. No bright colors, no "some assembly required" three-dimensional terrain, not even the satisfaction of a tiny, silver boot for a game piece. Just words. Words, words, and more words.

Scrabble may look, sound, heck, possibly even smell dorky, but when have gamers ever been afraid of a little dork-dom? I say, embrace your inner word dork. Okay, maybe I'm just a word dork. But if Scott had asked me, instead of all those games-industry leaders, what my favorite analog game was a few weeks back, it definitely would have been Scrabble.

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

Can Jack Thompson lead the video game industry out of society's doghouse and into a peaceful co-existence with its critics?

Sure, when pigs fly.

Earlier this week, everyone's favorite game-bashing attorney grabbed a few headlines by extending what some news outlets interpreted as an olive branch to video game publishers. In an e-mail to departing ESA boss Doug Lowenstein and ESRB president Patricia Vance, Thompson suggested that the game publishers warn the game retailers not to sell M-rated titles to those under 17. According to Thompson's plan, if retailers failed to comply, the publishers would simply stop shipping games to the offending stores. And then all of this nasty video game legislation would go away.

Brilliant! ... except for those oh-so-annoying realities.

Every other week Scott Jon Siegel contributes Off the Grid, a column on gaming away from the television screen or monitor.

I adore analog games. I respect them for their design; I envy them for their relative simplicity; I've even enjoyed playing them, on the several occasions when I've convinced my peers to forego Counterstrike for Carcassonne, Legend of Zelda for LCR.

But try as I might, I can't seem to stay off the grid.

With regards to Joystiq, I feel as though I've made a poor role model. Here I am, writing biweekly columns in advocacy of a non-digital lifestyle and I so often, in my own personal gaming, turn to the Wii or DS instead of a collective game of Fluxx or Kill Doctor Lucky. I'm effectively evangelizing for a religion that I myself do not practice.

So what's the problem here? Is there even a problem? Should I consider rehabilitation, or is there something video games offer me that analog games simply can't?

Every other week, Bonnie Ruberg contributes Playing Dirty, a column on sex and gender in video games:

Last week we looked at the changing art style -- and heros -- of the Castlevania series. From manly to effeminate, they've run the range. But there's more to consider here than a pretty face.

First off, let's take a look at their weapon choice -- or at least their weapons as they're depicted in the official game art. Old-fashioned Castlevania heros, the ones with rippling muscle and leather attire, are almost always depicted with a whip in hand. Later heros, the ones with lacy frills and high cheek bones, seem to prefer other weapons, like swords.

Now, sometimes a weapon is just a weapon, but when it comes to the peculiar case of these super-masculine, super-feminine protagonists, the issue bears a little reading into. The obvious cry would be "Phallic symbol!" But really, what weapon isn't? Instead, the interesting question here is what are these phalluses are up to?

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

I don't much care for Grand Theft Auto.

Aside from occasional review duties, I don't play Saints Row, either, or Reservoir Dogs or Scarface. Crime games are just not my thing; however, I don't dispute your right to enjoy those titles.

In Boston, though, political pressure has forced the Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority (MBTA) to agree that it will no longer carry ads for GTA or any other M-rated game. This came about after an organization known as the Campaign for a Commercial-free Childhood objected to subway ads for GTA Vice City Stories on the MBTA's Green Line.

Faced with a politically tenuous situation, the transit authority folded, deciding that it could ban M-rated game ads under the same rationale by which it refuses ads for X-rated movies. This is the games-as-porn approach that failed so miserably in Louisiana recently.

Every other week, Bonnie Ruberg contributes Playing Dirty, a column on sex and gender in video games:

For Castlevania fans, it's hardly news that the series has undergone some serious shifts in art direction over the years. But with the recent release of the Castlevania retrospective art book -- a Portrait of Ruin pre-order bonus -- it's gotten easier to track just how much things have changed. From romance novel-esque to stunningly stylized to "Didn't I see this anime on Fox Kids?," Castlevania's art aesthetic, if not its gameplay, has covered a vast range. But it's not just the approach that's different, it's the characters themselves.

In the beginning, titles like Castlevania II featured heroes with rippling muscles, loincloths, and virile locks of coarse blond hair. In contrast to these manly men, protagonists from later games, like Symphony of the Night, became thin bishounen, elegantly dressed, with delicate and undeniably feminine features. Most recently though, Castlevania heroes have reclaimed some of their traditional manhood. The protagonist of Portrait of Ruin may have fancier duds than the he-men of earlier titles, but he's grown back his six pack, his unromanticized features, and his save-the-day blond bangs.

Every other week, Bonnie Ruberg contributes Playing Dirty, a column on sex and gender in video games:

I have made a grave mistake.

Starting up a new game of Twilight Princess last week, I must have suffered a momentary lapse of sanity. I actually thought it would be a good idea -- just this once -- to change Link's name to my own. I'm the player, aren't I? Why shouldn't dialog text be addressed to me? I deserve some attention, too.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now every time someone speaks to young, heroic Link, they keep calling him "Bonnie." So far, he hasn't really seemed to notice, but it sure makes me feel funny. Girls sweetly bat their eyelashes and say my name. Men entrust me with complicated tasks without questioning whether I can complete them. It's just plain old weird.

Link runs, he jumps, he slashes things: everything he's always done. Except now he does it with a girl's name. In thirty seconds of poor judgment, I've made Link a name cross-dresser.

Every other week Scott Jon Siegel contributes Off the Grid, a column on gaming away from the television screen or monitor.

Between the launches of the PS3 and the Nintendo Wii, we're just about up to our ears in digital game coverage. So I've taken it upon myself to balance things out a bit with some analog lovin'. Fail to secure the hottest consoles on their launch dates? Looking for something a little less expensive to get you through the week? Or are you just jonesing for something other than Zelda? No need to worry; Off the Grid's got you covered.

This week, in honor of Thanksgiving in the States (ok, not really), I've asked a few developers and industry personalities what their favorite non-digital games are. Like a great big turkey dinner with your relatives, let's dispense with the formalities and just dive right in.


At present, it's probably Alan Moon's TICKET TO RIDE, a railroad game. Multiplayer, simple rules set but with surprising strategic complexity, playable in less than an hour, and sufficient randomness that games are not monotonously similar, but not so much that luck overwhelms the better players. I first played it in a wood-stove-heated country house in the depths of a Finnish winter night, but these days play it more often with my kids.
-- Greg Costikyan, Manifesto Games


My GO anecdote is actually stolen from Mahk LeBlanc, ex-Looking Glass guy. Mahk said that when the aliens finally land, and we learn to communicate with them, and then we describe Go, they'll reply, "oh yeah, we have that game". It's the uber game. Most complexity and subtlety and beauty from fewest rules. It will never be bested.

After that, it's a long way down, but maybe Sid Sackson's DOMINATION?
-- Chris Hecker, EA/Maxis

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

Canada gets it.

The Canadian government is offering grants and a contest to support emerging game developers. The program is called the Great Canadian Video Game Competition, and ten small firms will receive funding. The best of their game projects will be recognized at next year's GDC. The overall winner will receive a half-million dollar award.

Okay, that's Canadian dollars, but still. Why is Canada doing this? To help create Canadian IP and Canadian jobs.

So why do American politicos expend so much time and energy on futile video game content laws instead of helping grow the industry and work to keep the jobs it creates from going to New Delhi or Saigon or even Montreal?

It's baffling. Like moths to a flame, U.S. elected officials waste incredible amounts of time and energy each year on video game laws that aren't worth the paper they are printed on. In Utah this week, the legislature decided to once again consider a "games-as-porn" bill in the upcoming session, against the advice of the state's Attorney General. The Utah pols also chose to ignore the fact that a very similar bill has been blocked by a federal judge from taking effect in Louisiana.

Every other week, Bonnie Ruberg contributes Playing Dirty, a column on sex and gender in video games:

It's so easy, your girlfriend would play. Or your mother. Or your grandmother.

Last week at the 2006 Montreal International Games Summit, Reggie Fils-Aimé, president of Nintendo America -- super tall guy, and fun-with-Photoshop favorite -- gave a keynote on marketing the Wii. Besides being a general pep rally for the new console -- Nintendo beats Sony, rah rah rah! -- Reggie's talk stressed the Wii's ability to attract new gamers; specifically, Reggie mentioned older gamers, children, and women.

It's no shock that much fewer women play video games than men. So from a business standpoint, it makes sense that Nintendo would want to expand their sales into that new market. But whether the Wii and its PR are doing something "good" for the state of gaming equality, that's a whole other story.

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

It's obvious to anyone who watches T.V., listens to the radio or gives a second glance to their junk mail: political campaign ads these days are almost exclusively of the negative variety.

The just-completed 2006 mid-term elections saw video game issues raised more than ever before. In the run-up to Tuesday's Democratic sweep, a number of campaign commercials either touted their candidates' positions on regulating video game content or attacked opponents for failing to do so.

U.S. Senators Hillary Clinton and Rick Santorum both had commercials that mentioned video game content issues. She won, he lost.

In Indiana, incumbent Republican Congressman Mike Sodrel's campaign ran a nasty attack ad bashing his opponent, Democrat Baron Hill, for voting against a 1999 amendment to a juvenile crime bill that would have placed restrictions on video game sales.

The dramatic ad featured a black screen with audio of young boys, apparently playing GTA, and saying things like:

"Hit the hooker with the tire iron!" "Steal the old lady's car." "Shoot her first!"

Every other week, Bonnie Ruberg contributes Playing Dirty, a column on sex and gender in video games:

Puppies are gay. Dancing is for homos. Even Link is a little queer.

"Gay" has become a strange, strange word. From happy to homosexual to stupid, it can mean many different things. But there's no ambiguity in an insult like "That's so gay" – the favorite homophobic tag line of defenders of the heterosexual norm. It's like a built-in security system: whatever doesn't fit in gets "outed."

Of course, there's no group that fits the heterosexual norm – young, male, straight – better than gamers. At least, that's how we're perceived, and often how we act: as a boys' club. We like big guns, fast cars, hot women. Maybe that's why we're so quick to attack games that lack traditional testosterone. Between forums, blogs, and general grumblings, gamers have declared everything from Nintendogs to Dance Dance Revolution to The Wind Waker (Bright colors? Queer!) "gay."

Rockstar's Bully, however, doesn't fit that list. It's not pretty, or cute. If you don't watch out, it might even beat you up for your lunch money. Like the Grand Theft Auto series before it -- and especially the oh-so-controversial, hidden hetero action in San Andreas -- it's a man's game. Which, perhaps, is why we're so surprised to learn that Bully, too, is "gay."