Blurring The Lines Of Reality

Video games have always given us a way to explore the unknown, the non-existent, and the morally grey. Some argue that the exposure to things that aren't necessarily morally right or correct degrade our society and influence young people in a negative way. I don't think video games should be used as a scape goat for all of the social problems we face today, but some of the arguments that have been made against video games (especially violent video games) you can't ignore. I'm not here to get into another debate about this topic but I can't help to look back at how video games have affected my everyday life. What happens when the lines separating the virtual world start to blur into the real world?

I walk into the hotel lobby. It's late afternoon and the sun is glinting through the closed shades. I take a quick scan of the area. Four lamps with shades, breakable. Ten florescent overhead lights, breakable. Three emergency lights over each entrance, unbreakable.

I've always loved Tom Clancy and his writings. Both thought provoking and somewhat scary, I love how he blends espionage with political intrigue. His video games aren't that bad either. My first experience with his video games came from Splinter Cell, which happens to be one of my favorite games of all-time. I've played through Splinter Cell and the following two iterations (I don't like Double Agent as much as I do the original trilogy) quite a bit, trying out new techniques and strategies along the way. One key element in all the games is a simple tactic of shooting out the lights, whether you are in an outside garden or inside a hotel. Shooting out the lights is one of the best ways to find cover and conceal yourself quickly.

I didn't notice it at first. I'd been playing the first game about a month or so when I walked into work and counted how many lights there were and which ones could be broken. It became second nature in the game to scan for lights that I started to do it in real life. I still do it too, even though I haven't played a Splinter Cell game in a while. Though I haven't tried to break or shoot any of the lights, I still find it kind of funny how a simple habit in a game has blurred over into the real world.

I enter the theater and proceed up to the balcony area. I take my seat, I know the show is about to start soon. I hear a door shut and I jump. Which door? East side of the hall or West side?

Another Tom Clancy game that I love even more than Splinter Cell is Rainbow Six Vegas. You cannot beat the tactical elements of this game. From using suppressors to conceal muzzle flash to always being conscious of where your shadow is. The game is designed with strategy in mind. That being said, there is one simple tactic that many players overlook. Doors. Mainly shutting them after you've entered a room. Why even bother with this seemingly menial task? Because doors creak when they open and terrorists can't walk through walls. One of the most stressful levels I have ever played in a game is Dante's Theater. A three-story opera house with grand stair cases and many, many doors.

I usually play Rainbow as a two-person co-op team so being flanked is always a worry but it's usually fine. My partner and I know how to burn through a level quickly and efficiently. Dante's Theater is a totally different story. Our strategy was simple, I take one floor while my partner sweeps the floor above me, with both of us starting on opposite sides. It worked, for the most part. And then the doors started to open and close. The echo alone in the place made it hard to figure out where the terrorists were coming from. It didn't help that you were practically alone. They would appear out of thin air and kill you, from behind or from the front, it didn't matter they still got you. My partner and I even killed each other once in a while out of shear paranoia. To this day, theaters and creaking doors send a shiver up my spine and have me wondering, Will they come from the front or from the back?

I should buy two, one to save and one to use. But what happens if I use the one and need another? I should get three then, one to use, one for back up, and the other to save. What if I have to lend it to someone? Maybe four should be enough . . .

I have a pretty mild case of OCD. Video games don't always help that, especially RPGs. Most people peg me as a RPGer, which I am, I just don't play them because it's too hard for me too. You see, I can't use items in a game, moreover, I have to hoard items in a game. Oblivion is a great example of that. I had four of every weapon, armor, and cloth you could find. I had over one hundred potions of each kind yet I used magic to heal myself and cure any illness. And don't ask about the treasure, don't even ask.

My other two examples were of habits I picked up in video games showing their faces in the real world. This one is the opposite. My real world OCD nature crossing the line over to video games. It's an annoying habit (or should I say tick) that stops me from playing a genre I usually would enjoy. You can also see it in almost every game I play. With shooters I have to reload after every kill, which can be a bit dangerous at times. Platformers, I will obsessively keep my currency at an even number. Music games, I have to wear a hat . . . HAVE to.

I wonder sometimes what effects playing video games has on me when I get paranoid over a door creaking open or trying to figure out if a bullet can penetrate the wall I'm standing next to. I also think of the other things I've learned from video games, like how to survive the zombie apocalypse. All joking aside, video games are just a fun way to explore what is un-explorable otherwise. They shouldn't be taken too serious and enjoyed. I find that even when the lines blur and both worlds collide, I can keep my head and figure what which is real and which isn't. Wait, is that guy infected?