Slow News Day....Let's Pick on Video Games

In the last two weeks something happened that really bothered me. Now some of you who might read this might question why it upsets me so much, so I want to stress it is not the object itself that is being attacked that bothers me so much as how the object is being attacked is exceptionally telling about people and specifically people who believe or pretend to believe they are an authority on a certain subject.

Mass Effect is a video game produced by Bioware who is well known for the excellent RPGs. The game has received excellent reviews, and many would argue has taken the art of video gaming up a level taking players into almost an interactive movie experience with an excellent story with likable and relatable characters. The story is essentially is you adventure through space with your team, battling as you go, and interacting with characters. The game is said to be heavily based off of sci-fi space movies of the 70's and early 80's which is important as will be discussed.

The game itself came under scrutiny just recently due to a "racy" sex scene between the main character that you play as in the game and an NPC (Non-playable character for all you out ther who are not nerds). So you have an idea the scene is less than a minute long, shows only a butt (no frontal nudity), and in my opinion is done far more tastefully than most movies today handle sex. The scene was put in specifically to reflect on the 70's sci-fi space movie motif. Think old Star Trek with Captain Kirk parading around the galaxy hookin' up with hot alien babes left and right. While sex alone is one issue that might be frowned upon the game takes the issue of sex in video games one uncomfortable step further. The issues that has really caused this uproar is that you can choose to make your character female in the game, this does not change the character's gender that have sex with in the game therefore the scene could be then interpreted as lesbian in nature. There is no male on male sex scene (thank goodness). For the record the NPC is an alien and therefore their sex is ambiguous though they are feminine looking. I am not here to analyze whether it was appropriate for Bioware to allow a potential lesbian encounter in their game or whether sex in games is appropriate at all for that matter, the issue comes from how people responded and in short the response was pure propaganda.

Propaganda I have little doubt dances before all of us all the time in a small ways that probably go unnoticed, but I was particularly disturbed in this case because first I am a gamer and a blatant and vicious attack on something I would consider my hobby is disturbing and second the sheer blatancy of the people commenting on the game who had obviously never played the game and likely had not played any game for that matter. It began with a blog post by a conservative commentator who took the story of a game with sex into it and frankly used that as a spring board to form malicious lies about the game claiming to be concerned for the sensibilities of young people who might play it. He said that in the game you could not only choose your gender, but modify every aspect of your characters body, and then proceed to engage with sex with every person in the game. The backlash from the gaming community was astounding and very quick and he quickly printed a new piece trying to save himself and justify what he said. About a week later Fox News jumped on the band wagon bringing in panelists to discuss the dangers of Mass Effect. One of the panelist, a psychologist, discussed the dangers of the game and the inappropriateness of the game, but the problem was she admitted on camera that she had never seen or played the game herself. The gaming community responded by giving her book negative reviews on Amazon, the idea being if she could bash something she never played then gamers could bash her book which they had never read. She has since apologized for her comments on the show and retracted all of her statements and I do applaud her for that.

It scares me when people make blatant claims like they did about Mass Effect because while it may not be a terribly important issue one has to wonder a little bit, if one lies about the little issues that do not matter how can I trust them when they talk about what really does matter. In an age where a news report or blog can circle the globe and impact millions within hours it truly becomes the responsibility of anyone with the capability to give their opinion do give it intelligently and honestly and not to resort to lying and manipulation get what they believe in accepted. Fox News failed anyone who watches their news because they lied about something that they had very little knowledge of, on top of that that literally slandered the names of hundreds of people who worked really hard to produce one of the highest rated games of 2007. This all for the sake of ratings and to get the people rallied behind a cause that is lead by the media.

My opinion on Mass Effect must align with any other form of entertainment or media that I partake in as that is what video games are, they are entertainment. All video games work under a rating system that determines the appropriate age range for games to be played by. For this reason with a game like Mass Effect, which is rated M (18+), it is up to parents if they feel their kids should be playing such a game and beyond that it is the moral obligation of any adult to choose whether or not they should be playing that particular game. Parents used to screen movies to see if they were appropriate for the children to see, maybe in this new age of interactive entertainment parents need to take responsibility and control and screen video games for their children.

...Juno, best movie ever...

This past week I had the privilege of going out to dinner and to see the movie Juno with my wife and mother in-law. My wife and I had seen the previews for Juno and were both excited to see it and I had heard some good things about it. I went into the theatre with no real excpectations, but now having seen it I have to say that Juno is up there with my favorite movies of all time. In terms of story, acting, wit, and a perfectly matching soundtrack it is excellent.

Focusing on the main character Juno, a sixteen year old High School student with a unique personality, who has become pregnant after having sex with her best friend (the dorky yet admirable Bleaker). It's entire production has that trendy-indie Napoleon Dynamite feeling to it only with far more character and story. I do not want to spoil this movie for anyone going to see it and I also do not wish to build it up too much because this movie has a style that may not match the particular tastes of every movie-goer. The movie itself is a comedy with exceptionally-witty joke a minute dialogue; I often found myself beginning to laugh at one joke only to miss the next one. Despite its comedic foundations the movie strikes several serious chords and presents what I felt was a exceptionally balanced view of several moral issues including love, commitment, and support.

In a world where the majority of media has fallen into mediocrity and seems unable to produce original material I applaud all those involved with Juno for making an excellent movie, that is both entertaining and inspiring, and does not fall for the usual pitfalls of modern film making.

...And people blame video games for kids getting fat...

A topic that is essentially a running joke in my family circle is the sheer atrocity that is the KFC Famous Bowl. Making a McDonald's big-mac look like a feasible alternative for dieting, the Famous Bowls sport mashed potatoes topped with gravy, corn, fried chicken, cheese, and even a biscuit in some of its permutations. The very thought of eating one of these is nearly enough to turn my stomach, but one man apparently had the courage to take a sporkful of the Famous Bowl. I present to you Patton Oswalts description of eating one of these from an article he wrote for the website A.V. Club. For the record this menu item contains over 700 calories with 35 grams of fat.


A.V. Club Taste Test Special: The Bowl at the Howling Rim of Famous-ity

By Patton Oswalt January 8th, 2008

Editor's note: Periodically, The A.V. Club enters its gleaming, sterile laboratories to taste-test new and bizarre foodstuffs it finds on the open market, from Vosges' Bacon Chocolate bar to Brawndo: The Thirst Mutilator to Jones Soda's holiday ham drink. The results are posted weekly at avclub.com/blog. Recently, The A.V. Club considered taste-testing the KFC "Famous Bowl," that inexplicably popular, remarkably grotesque heap of food that comedian Patton Oswalt memorably described as "a failure pile in a sadness bowl." Then it occurred to us that we should just have Oswalt do our dirty work for us—especially since he admitted he'd never actually sampled one of those failure piles for himself. So we dared him to. Here are the results.
I am writing this under appreciable mental strain, since by tonight, I shall be no more. When you read these hastily scrawled words, you may guess, though never fully realize, why I must have forgetfulness or death.

Would that I could forget that fateful evening in the autumn of 2006 when I first heard the shrieking, beckoning clarion call of Kentucky Fried Chicken's Famous Bowl. I was fast-forwarding through the commercials of a Tivo'd episode of The Venture Brothers. The commercial for the Famous Bowl came on. I thought it was a Tim & Eric sketch.

It wasn't. Kentucky Fried Chicken had filled a bowl with gravy, mashed potatoes, corn, breaded chicken, and finally, cheese. Shut-ins, people afflicted with Prader-Willi Syndrome, and manic-depressives also do this. If you're trying to make a fortune in the food and beverage industry, those are the three demographics to shoot for—the Famous Bowl is one of the bestselling items on the KFC menu.

KFC calls it their version of the shepherd's pie. Shepherds in Kentucky must be full of rage and slathered in confusion. They must hang their fat, skin, and muscles from bones carved with runes of surrender.

I must've watched the commercial a dozen times. It looked like a self-shot (but well-cut and -lit) video that someone would make as they prepared to commit suicide. I couldn't take my eyes off it. I didn't think the implosion of society would be so funny.

So I wrote a bit about the Famous Bowl. I'm a comedian. I'm obsessed with love, crime, America, and the apocalypse. The KFC Famous Bowl is all of these, and it also kind of looks like the future-food you'd see people eating in '70s science-fiction flicks.
I also like science fiction.

And boy, did the bit work. I love doing it. I put it on an album and did it on Late Night With Conan O'Brien. And it took on a weird life of its own. People keep telling me about the Famous Bowl, in all its permutations. Someone told me KFC added a biscuit to the bowl. I heard desperate whispers about newer, more sinister products that were being tried out at the ominous-sounding "test market store" in Louisville—including something called "The Megaleg," which I fear will be part of some future A.V. Club Taste Test.

Somehow, KFC got wind of it. The creator of the Famous Bowl had my bit quoted to him in an interview in Fast Company magazine. And yesterday, KFC sent a Patton Oswalt bobblehead to my management company. I'm not kidding. The fact that it looms over the official Colonel Sanders bobblehead in stature means… something. Are they mocking me?





But I have a shameful secret.
I've never had a Famous Bowl.
Until now.

The A.V. Club asked me to try one and write about it. I said yes. I bought one and ate it. It was a mistake.

First off, when I went looking for a KFC in Los Angeles, I realized I hadn't been in a KFC in decades. I remember, as a kid, how fun they were, with the corn on the cob on a stick, and the way KFC chicken tastes so goddamn awesome the next day after spending the night in the fridge.

The franchise I visited, on Hollywood Boulevard near my old apartment, looked like it had withstood assault by bullets, flamethrowers, Baseball Furies, and a hundred hook-handed whores. Everything inside the store—including the employees and customers—looked like it had been rubbed with sad ham. And they were offering a new product for kids—"fun meals" that came in colorful cardboard containers that opened like laptop computers. A generation of children are growing up associating computer use with fun, grease, and food. I will flee to the mountains before I see how porn gets folded into that equation.

The Famous Bowl has a black plastic bottom and a clear plastic top that fogs appealingly from the jungle heat of the beige glop inside. Here's where, in a quirky indie-film moment, I'd eat a sporkfull and realize… "Hey, this is pretty good!" I had considered that reaction as I drove the Famous Bowl home. It sat on the passenger seat next to me like a sullen runaway I'd picked up on the interstate. I wanted us to bond somehow. I wanted to eat my words. I like when things work out unexpectedly.

The Famous Bowl hit my mouth like warm soda, slouched down my throat, and splayed itself across my stomach like a sun-stroked wino. It was that precise combination of things, and so many other sensations that did not go together. At all.

The gravy, which I remembered as being tangy and delicious in my youth, tasted like the idea of blandness, but burned and then salted to cover the horrid taste. The mashed potatoes defiantly stood their ground against the gravy, as if they'd read The Artist's Way and said, "I'm going to be boring and forgetful in my own potato-y way!" The corn tasted like it had been dunked in fake-corn-flavored ointment, and the popcorn chicken, breaded to the point of parody, was like chewing a cotton sleeve that someone had used to wipe chicken grease off their chin.
The cheese had congealed. Even in the heat and steam of the covered Famous Bowl, it had congealed. I stabbed it with the tines of my spork and it all came up in one piece. I nibbled an edge, had a vision of a crying Dutch farmer, and put it down.

I managed three or four more spoonfuls, trying to be fair. I am not the healthiest eater, but this was a level of crap I hadn't earned a belt in yet.

Afterward, I had the weirdest feeling. I'm trying to imagine this feeling amplified, as if I'd finished the entire bowl:

My mouth was laced with the various "flavors" of the Famous Bowl. My stomach was bloated and uncomfortable with the fist of starch I'd just put in it. But I didn't feel like I'd eaten. It's like when you see some loud summer blockbuster, or hear an overproduced pop song—you're left with the sensation of seeing, hearing, or in the case of the Famous Bowl, eating. But in the end, that's all they are—sensations.

There was nothing of consequence or value for me to digest, no taste or memory left on my teeth or tongue to savor and think about.

It's goddamn horrible, this Famous Bowl.

The end is near. I hear a noise at the door, as of some immense slippery, living mound lumbering against it. It shall not find me! God, that gravy! The window! The window!

Patton Oswalt's final comedy album before his recent Famous Bowl-induced tragedy was 2007's Werewolves And Lollipops. It includes his pre-tasting thoughts on the Famous Bowl.