Gaming; Man Style

AAAHHH! *flips table* It’s tough attempting to abate my outwardly valiant masculinity so as not to diminish the inclusion of other males from feeling diminutive in my manly presence. Such as watching all 6 Rocky movies in unison, whilst eating a bowl of glass that buoyant empathetically on a pool of nitrogen peroxide and devoured with an irradiated utensil. Yes the suppression of such hereditary gallantry is palpable and requires some clandestine aperture to ease the predatory intensity and impede the caustic testosterone that effuses through my herculean physique, that can provoke me to repeatedly pummel kittens. Gaming however, certainly stifles these combative exasperation’s. Gaming is very much geared towards the ordained perception that contemporary games solitary utility, stimulates the regressed primeval of Neanderthals that play them. Omitting liberal conventions of compassion and analytical diplomacy, for pestilent annihilation of civilians in the middle East and liberating our rights as men to project our own repressed need for explosions, thus reducing the docile feminine to the supportive damsels that urgently require domestication. Now this may seem like misogynistic exposition that categorizes our nihilistic presumptions, but games certainly perpetuate and promote the ideology of male chauvinism as commercially acceptable, which falsely contradicts the overlaying fact that female gamers are ruthless!

“And here’s some football. Why? Because its manly that’s why!”

Woman posses some incredibly abundance of residual concentration, as opposed to men who demonstrate vocalised antagonism, with some of the most formidable female adversaries, audit cordial greetings and exhibit tones of submissive docility that deceptively shroud their introverted ferocity, before unleashing apocalyptic defilement with simulated castration of my genitalia. To experience such a pronounced violation certainly sedate’s the attenuated premise that a very masculine endorsed industry conveys. A man considers a console control to emulate as an extension of his genitalia, which in most instances is a grossly falsified exaggeration to its anatomically inferior contemporary. The vanity of a male mind is to bask in adulation of our achievements, and to suffer the indignity of defeat with humility and magnanimous grace (by which I mean biting the controller). You get the immediate impression that some advertisers would be dumbfounded by the discovery that…*stifles a choke* woman play games?! “Wait a minute; you have boobs, where trousers and posses a vaginal cavity, and you play games? What an absurd notion!” The notion of gaming being dominated by a largely masculine audience is a falsity, as is our unifying reason for indulging in simulated adventures.

“Your living room is located in the ditch, the fridge is the wrong way up and there is no access to your upstairs bathroom. But there is off-road parking.”

I’ve always believed that gaming is a promotion of emulation, encouraging us to manipulate characters we wish we could be, experiencing adventures we wish we could imitate as though games represent a more attractive distraction from the banality of life. While there is an element of truth to the consensus of distracting escapism–one to which I have accredited to my own involvement–it’s also a broadened definition. Sure you want to portray the courageous hero, saving the world from imminent destruction from some villainous antagonist, but I doubt that anyone, of any physiological specificity has played Call of Duty has stated “Wow, I’d love to be involved in this conflict.” Or scoured the wastes of Washington DC in Fallout 3 and thought “What a great place this would be to live in.” No, that inanimate device is our best friend we covet, not for a greater sense of importance or the solace of antipathy for social confrontations, but a perpetual friend that preserves your sanity from the platitude of boredom. It’s that manly, man, grr thing we do. Generally being a male gamer is much like this protracted article; incoherent, permeated with contradictory statements that are wholly dependant on our own frenetic supposition to inform our conclusions. There’s an entire market geared towards naivety and suggestion, which are–let’s face it lads–perfect narration for the male psychosis.

What does gaming mean to you? Let me know. Cheers.