Let’s throw a dart at the board to see who this game has pissed off today…bullseye on the “Joel didn’t deserve this” crowd and another just shy of the “alt-right man-children.” While I understand the controversy over Joel’s death, the latter just makes me roll my eyes so hard, I can see my brain herniating from the idiocy. Apparently, this is the worst thing to happen to them since society decided that gays are people, not punching bags. Buck up, Nazi, and go chew on some gun ammo to calm yourself down. But I’ll get back to the stupid reasons people hate this game after I analyze the actual game.
How long must we weep at the altar of logic and reason before the world makes sense again? As a purveyor and lover of dystopian fiction and weird obsession with tyrannical governments of history, I can't help but feel this is the catalyst to the apocalyptic fallout looming over the horizon. Economic turmoil, civil unrest, groups of people wrongfully blaming other groups of people for the nation's problems, systematic maiming and murdering of political dissentors, a plague wreaking havoc faster than research can be conducted for a vaccine...the checklist has more checks than empty boxes.
What it is about this game that makes players return to it again and again? Why do players still hold this game in high regard as not only the best horror video game, but the best video game of all time? What is it about this game that frightens you, depresses you, disturbs you, and haunts you? And why, after you turn off the PC or console after finishing the game, does the story resonate in your mind so vividly?
Most college memes baffle me with how lazy some people are... but then I take a huge bite of some humble pie, and remember that I dropped out of community college during my second year. And guess what, in the seven years in which I searched for jobs in this podunk town, I had about three. I hated them all, and quit embarrassingly quickly. Why is adult life so hard for me? I could have been born and raised without emotional trauma, but nope! Life fucking whipped me with that trauma-coated cat-o'-nine-tails and basted my raw wounds with lemon juice.