It’s ironic that I once wanted games to be validated by my mom so badly, since now I give her worrisome glances as she cycles through her reality TV programming. I think we all have that one game that we think will be the game which shows our moms how glorious, beautiful, and life-altering our hobby is. There will be curbstomps that speak to the soul like Camus and rocket launchers that set fire to the heart like Stendhal. We all have those moments, and it’s unfortunate that we don’t all move past them.
Even grown journalists, in their 30s and beyond type embarrassing flowery dedications to games like Journey or Proteus , throwing a temper tantrum for their parents’ attention and affection through garish prose. I won’t name names, but you don’t have to look far for these examples -- I have no doubt we may have run a few on this website.
With all of this mind, I sat my mom down with me as I played through the first two hours of BioShock Infinite . The goal wasn’t to usher my mother into the world of “meaningful” (ugh) videogames, but to see where games stand with her now and what my feelings are toward her feelings.
As it turns out, BioShock Infinite isn’t a 10/10 in my mother’s eyes, but I can hardly care.
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via destructoid http://www.destructoid.com/bioshock-infinite-and-my-mom-don-t-get-along-249713.phtml