Hey, folks. SinSynn here.
The following article is personally important to me, since I'll be sharing information in a similar fashion to my official introduction. In all honesty, in the time since I've delved into this hobby, and blogging as well, my life has changed dramatically. I've changed as a person, as well. I still go through all the little ups and downs that we all do, but I do it sober, now. I also have much more respect for life. Respect for my own life, the people in it, and life in general.
Since some of what I have to say isn't pretty, I'll begin after the break.
In the meantime- a couple of announcements!
Since my own computer exploded, I've been sharing the Crazy Lady's. This has caused a little tension between us, and it got to a point where I almost had to quit. Fortunately, I was able to cut a deal involving hard labor and doggie walks, and I persuaded Loquacious to switch days with me, since I've bartered for weekend computer time.
So that means- SinSynn on SUNDAYS! My first Sunday post will be this week, and be sure to tune in Lo's Musings, recommencing next Wednesday.
Also, be sure to go read a lil' thing that Von wrote, cuz it's awesome. Be sure to hit the comment section, cuz here at da House, we wanna know yer darkest secrets. Mwahahahaha!
Now, I'll start with a couple of quotes, and a story.....
Good friends we've had, and good friends we've lost
along the way
In this great future, you can't forget your past
so dry your tears, I say
- Bob Marley, from No Woman No Cry
When I was fifteen, I got caught out on a block far from my own, and handed a fairly severe beating that put me in the hospital. It wasn't the biggest deal to me at the time; I'd suffered worse beatings, and despite the fact that I had a concussion and knots on my head that made me look like the Elephant Man, I would be out in a few days.
On my third day of repose (and hassling the doctors, nurses and sundry staff), my parents arrived for their daily visit. They were not alone. They were accompanied by two detectives from the local police precinct. The looks on their collective faces told me something was drastically wrong, that something bad had happened.
It was my father that broke the news. One of my childhood friends had been murdered.
Before I could even begin to process this information, the detectives began asking me questions. I'm not sure I even understood what anyone was saying at that point, but I remember the way the detectives were looking at me.
They resented me. They hated me. I was part of something they were actively fighting against- the street culture of drugs and violence.
Sigh. Yeah, I hated them, too. That was the way these things worked in my life back then. I would never tell them nuthin.' Code of the streets, and alla dat.
These things passed between myself and the detectives with no words being spoken. My parents sensed the vibe, of course. My father made an angry face, and my mother released my hand, which she had gripped tightly as I was given the news.
The detectives had a trump card, though. As I played off my 'tough guy' bullshit attitude, they played it.
One of them opened a plain manilla folder, and showed me pictures of my dead friend taken shortly after his murder.
He died on the same block I was beaten on. He had run from his killers, but they trapped him between two parked cars, and shot him to death. There were seven pictures, I remember that quite clearly. Each one displayed the horrific damage wrought upon my friend's body, except the last.
That one showed his face, and when I saw it I knew that my beloved friend died in fear. He was terrified, at the end.
In the years to follow, violence and death would touch me many times. I walked away from a car crash that claimed several lives with just three cracked ribs. I buried more friends. I watched both of my parents wither and die as a result of cancer. I identified my wife's body following her suicide. I survived homelessness and addiction and all the misery associated with both.
But for the Grace of God, go I.
Many of these events are just a strange kind of blur to me now (although I suffer from frequent nightmares, where I wake up gasping or in motion several steps from my bed). My emotions at the time of their occurrence perhaps helping to soften their impact over time, I dunno.
The image of my friend's face in the picture shown to me by those two detectives remains in crystal clear, high-definition resolution within my memory banks, however, and I know why.
I see similar expressions on the faces of dead soldiers, whenever I watch a documentary like 'World War II in HD.'
 |
| *SinSynn rates it 'traumatizing,' to tell the truth* |
Playing Flames of War kindled an interest in WWII for me, but the more I learn of it, the less I like the historical aspect of it. Historically, real people died, not fictional ones. Flames of War, as a game, virtually ignores this aspect of history. Often times, I wonder if this is the correct approach.
I'm not here to argue whether or not our society glorifies violence and death, I genuinely believe both are part of the human experience, and I believe that they're used as tools and mechanics by the creators of both our games and popular media (I discussed this last week).
I also don't want to play out World War II in HD when I game, either. I want fantasy, not fiction. Since violence and death play a part in my gaming, it's inevitable that their part in my life cause the overlap that I occasionally feel.
Like all things, the best games, the best movies and whatnot will deal with these subjects in a thoughtful, sensitive and perhaps even thought-provoking manner. Then we have the lowest common denominator forms of entertainment, where violence and death are used for sensational reasons, in a cheap and crass manner.
Fortunately, our hobby seems not to suffer from the 'beating hookers to death' syndrome that video games occasionally suffer from. Yet, anyway.
Warhammer 40k has crossed over into video games and movies now. The 40k realm, where there is only war (and the laughter of thirsting gods), can now be played out on our screens and monitors in vivid color. I'll readily admit that the first time I watched an Eldar Wraithlord rip apart a Space Marine while Playing Dawn of War I chuckled evilly.
And yeah, I'll admit I played through the campaign of Space Marine, and hacked through legions of Orks with my trusty chainsword. I bear more shame for the fact that I actually sorta enjoyed playing at being a Space Marine than I do for butchering the Orks, though.
-_-
I didn't find the violence and death in the 40k video games offensive, because it fit the context in which it was presented. What would one expect from 40k, after all? There is only war in the grimdark. We know this. It's the franchise's friggin' tagline.
 |
| *War requires a lotta FAQ's to represent properly, in this case* |
Sometimes I think our hobby goes a bit astray where violence and death are concerned, however. When I saw the infamous 'Eldar Rape Diorama' I got chills. Very bad chills. I won't post a pic, you can Google it if you'd like.
I got similar chills when I saw Flames of War players wearing German regalia and doing the whole 'Heil Hitler' salute thing.
I get these chills because I think these things lacked the proper respect for what they're representing, or attempting to represent. It's not simply a matter of 'bad taste,' although that is unarguably part of it. Certain things our hobby touches upon need to be handled with respect, because although some issues are fair game for humor and satire, or perhaps can be dealt with dismissively as if they're unimportant Sometimes, however, they....aren't, and can't be.
When I say respect, I don't mean respect for violence and death, I mean respect for life. The games we play are filled with violence and death, and that's a fact. Nevertheless, most games handle them in a somewhat tactful manner. Even the rulebooks occasionally dismiss this by using terms like 'wounds' to explain the carnage.We remove models from the game board, not casualties. In this way, the game and it's players can distance themselves from the violence and death.
I'm cool with that.
I know deep down inside when I'm not cool with something, but I can't put my finger on exactly where the line is, when violence and death are concerned. For instance, the heroic figure holding aloft the severed head of his enemy is a fairly iconic image in the genres used in our hobby, right?
Fer sure, but yet....meh, not offended.
 |
| *The head, and maybe a bit o' spinal column, as well* |
I am offended when I see swastikas in our hobby though, even though I feel it's important to never forget what they represent. I feel that it's both disrespectful to those that died beneath their image, and dismissive of the pain they've caused to paint them on models used for gaming purposes. It's unnecessary, and frankly I don't care that it's done for the sake of a 'historical' game.
It's still a game. Games should be fun, and not be painful reminders of the realities of violence and death.
Just like that, we veer off into territory where tastes and opinions become the basis for debate. I don't believe censorship is ever the proper response with issues like this, and I'll fight over having someone's so-called 'morality' forced upon me in any fashion.
I can make my own decisions in these matters, thanks, and I resent others attempting to make them for me.
Our games continue to 'grow up' in some ways. More and more, serious subjects are used to lend them gravitas. Violence and death feature prominently in this equation, naturally. For the most part, our hobby handles them well, I think. There's no civilian casualties in a game of 40k, or a game of Flames of War.
The Space Marine game kinda hinted at this, though. There were lines of dialogue, journal entries and whatnot that helped drive home the terrible wrath of an Orkish invasion.
It's hard not to laugh out loud when one says 'Waaagh!' but it wouldn't be so funny if the faces of the dead were there to see, you know what I mean?
Games Workshop has always injected a bit of dark humor into the fantastical realms they've created, and I appreciate that. A well timed, clever joke goes a long way to deflect exactly how awful the situations portrayed in their games would actually be if they were real. As time goes by, however, and GW franchises branch off into other mediums (games and movies), some of this humor has gone missing in favor of a more 'grown up' approach.
 |
| *Yessir, we get buckets o' blood now. Um...ok* |
I love the 40k universe, and I hope that as it moves forward it never loses that core of dark irony, although it seems to be in danger of doing so while chasing mass appeal.
We can offhandedly refer to it as 'fluff,' but ultimately it's the driving force in our games and the reasons for the conflicts we enact upon our tabletops, our screens and monitors, and in our minds as we play.
I have no desire to flash back to that picture of my friend's corpse when I play a game, that much I'm certain of. Therefore, how violence and death are handled in the games I play is important to me. Playing games is, for me, a way to celebrate life, and brings with it the joy of engaging my imagination, the challenges of building and painting my models, and the sense of community that comes with participating in it.
This hobby has helped me personally, in many ways. It's helped reaffirm my respect for life. Respect for my own life, the people in it, and life in general. How violence and death are handled in our games, our media, and in our society will always be contentious.
Ultimately I think it's a matter of respect.
Until next time, folks- Exit with catchphrase!
- SinSynn
No comments:
Post a Comment