By Toby McCasker on April 16, 2014 at 3:32 pm
Sometimes games can start some hell realtalk. Out of nowhere, bananas, you’re committing some heinous act and what makes it feel so heinous is that only the implication of it maybe happening was there. I’m not talking the DIY depravity of Grand Theft Auto. That is clearly an open invitation to do bad things on a massive scale, and this in some way dilutes the impact of it. You know why you’re there. You came to party. What about when you’re just there? First-person shooters make this weird personal phenomenon all the more personal, because hey, you’re you, not the back of someone else’s head or the top of it.