by Cuddy, Luke
However, some dedicated groups of hardcore gamers play for hours on end, for reasons that may transcend the game itself. Bungie’s ad campaign for Halo 3 and Halo: Reach included inspirational phrases, calling the player to “Believe” and “Remember Hope.” Multiplayer online battles reinforce competition and advancement, while the core themes of the game’s campaign include war, duty, sacrifice, and heroism. The game’s widespread impact is a cultural phenomenon, and this is perhaps due to its function as a form of “secular apocalypticism” for the modern age masses who crave epic, meaningful experiences within the safe virtual domain.
Videogame Apocalypses and Secularism
Halo and apocalypses both exhibit a sort of procedural rhetoric. They both involve otherworldly mediators who help the playervisionary understand the experiences and succeed in the mission, usually involving the sharing of secrets acquired through the journey. Both can be viewed as instances of the “magic circle” of games, in which areas are marked off for “play,” in the sense that new rules apply within the demarcated space. Both offer a vision of transcendence, suggesting there is more to life than our daily experiences. Both present a dramatic sense of time’s passing, creating expectation and urgency in the awareness of the approaching end of time. Both invite player-visionaries to see themselves as identified with great figures from another time or place, to see their own identities fused, at least for the time of the “play,” with these figures, to experience what they experience and see what they see.
There are distinctive similarities between apocalypses and FPSs like Halo. But what do we make of the differences?
The element of secularism marks the most distinctive feature of videogame apocalypses. Indeed, the challenges and anxiety associated with postmodernism are quite distinct from those experienced by early Jews and Christians suffering under Roman rule. Death in videogames is temporary, not permanent—thus salvation is also temporary. Worlds visited are transient. Enemies defeated are not real. When one turns off the game and returns to one’s daily life, the same hardships, the same problems, the same doubts remain. Apocalypses may have offered early Jews and Christians comfort precisely because the “game” they invited us to play was infinite, so the rewards of “winning” had some lasting consequences, and so could offer real comfort in daily life. The popularity of fabricated apocalyptic visions of the sort encountered in today’s videogames mark both the appeal of the genre and also its ineffectiveness in times of generally accepted moral relativism.
Hearers of traditional apocalypses could find comfort in God’s approaching judgment of the wicked and rewards for the righteous. Videogames can certainly also be viewed as looking imaginatively forward to a judgment, but this experience may take shape in many different forms of dualisms, most of which are presented in a fantasy framework. In one game, the enemy is a group of aliens; in another it is people from another country or religion; in another, it is monsters or children or soldiers. The dualisms do not contribute to an overall ordered view of the cosmos, but rather offer only a temporary sense of order and satisfaction, within the programmed world of each game. Even in games that purport to represent real events and impose a rigid dualism on them, as in various videogames about current military engagements, the satisfaction is cheap. One’s so-called enemies will simply produce another videogame in which you are portrayed as the enemy.
The complexities of morality in a globalizing world make easy dualisms difficult to maintain beyond the “magic circle” of play, but they also suggest that we should think carefully and deliberately about what we believe and why we believe it. Perhaps the ancient apocalypticists also saw their own otherworldly journeys as play, but it seems likely that if they did, they utilized the elements of play to make much larger claims about their own certainty of meaning in the cosmos, and their own hope that God would intervene soon to prove them right. Today, it seems, things are a bit more complicated and we have to work harder to figure things out for ourselves.
10
The Plasma Grenade Is the New Razor Blade
MICHAEL JENKINS
Bullets are flying, grenades are going off in the distance, but no one has seen you. You’re sneaking around the back. You’ve got a full clip and an itchy trigger finger. This is what you live for. This is what gives it all meaning. As you peer around the corner, you see a Covenant standing with his back to you. This is the perfect opportunity. You saunter up and pull the trigger on your Mauler, execution style. As he falls to the ground, all becomes right with the world. That is, all is right until you hear that tink of a bouncing grenade. With that you are stuck back at a loading screen.
This is the beginning of our love-hate relationship with the Halo series. We live for the moment in a deathmatch where we get the winning kill or in capture-the-flag where we save the game. The problem is that those moments are so few and far between. Most of the moments we experience are filled with pain and suffering. We’re the ones who are getting slaughtered. We’re the ones who are getting killed over and over, and most of the time it’s because of teammates who just can’t work together. We end up doing most of the work ourselves, fighting all the odds, and getting slaughtered for it.
However, that’s part of the reason we enjoy the game. If Halo were too easy, we would simply move on. As much as we crave those moments of victory, they are meaningless without the challenge. This is why we crank it up to hellfire nightmare legendary difficulty or continue to join games even when we consistently get put into failing teams. The challenge is what makes the game. However, it’s also the challenge that’s at the heart of our use of Halo as a tool for self-injurious behavior (SIB). But before we go too far, let’s look into what self-injurious behavior is.
Nerdrage and Me
Jennifer J. Muehlenkamp, a clinical psychologist with a focus on SIB tells us that “Superficial/moderate self-injurious behaviors are characterized as repetitive, low-lethality actions that alter or damage body tissue (such as cutting or burning) without suicidal intent. Superficial/moderate SIBs have a unique set of symptoms” and “are viewed as a type of morbid self-help.”67
This gives us a beginning definition of SIB and a few important points about it. The first is that SIB results in physical damage. This is one point which I will contest. Another point is that SIB is always meant to be non-fatal. The action is meant to cause pain and suffering, not to end your life. The final point, which ties into the second, is that the action is often performed as a form of self-help or self medication.
If we simply stopped here, the closest we could come to SIB and Halo would be if there were some electro-shock feedback or we beat ourselves over the head with the controller anytime we died. However, if we take more time to look at what SIB actually is, we can see whether there are any more subtle characteristics that can allow Halo to be a tool of SIB.
Two psychologists, Matthew K. Nock and Mitchell J. Prinstein, argue that SIB can be broken down into positive and negative reinforcement types. A positive reinforcement would be one that brings a desirable stimulus. A negative reinforcement would bring the removal of an undesirable stimulus. “Automatic-negative reinforcement refers to an individual’s use of SIB to achieve a reduction in tension or other negative affective states” (for example ‘to stop bad feelings’).68 In other words, someone who actively performs SIB is doing so to stop feeling a certain way. They are using the SIB as a form of relief. For people who play Halo, this would be akin to using it to blow off steam. Pulling that trigger, throwing that nade, it all makes us feel better. We enjoy watching things go boom and enemies dying. Tapping into that warrior nature relaxes us.
In automatic-positive reinforcement, individuals engage in SIB “to create a desirable physiological state” (for example, ‘to feel something, even if it’s pain’). In other words, rather than serving the purpose of removing feelings, SIB may also function as a means of feeling generation. Here, the SIB participant is trying to find something to feel, to chase the numbness or lonelines
s away. She wants some feeling regardless of what it is. One way in which this is done is to use the pain to replace the feeling she’s trying to escape from, to give her something else to focus on.
In our situation, Halo might be used to generate these feelings. We may get on and die repeatedly to replace the loneliness or depression with anger. Sure, we’re going to get fragged a lot in any deathmatch, but the adrenalin is worth it. Sure, the match may be way one-sided because the team we joined is just awful. Driving that Warthog or dying repeatedly at the same stupid spot may be the most frustrating thing we’ve done lately, but it’s still something other than wallowing in our own loneliness. It gives us something else to be angry and frustrated about. It changes our focus.
In contrast, social reinforcement functions refer to the use of SIB to modify or regulate our social environment. Social-negative reinforcement refers to an individual’s use of SIB “to escape from interpersonal task demands (for instance, ‘to avoid punishment from others’ or ‘to avoid doing something unpleasant’).” This falls much more into the realm of escapism. The SIB participant uses this behavior to either inflict harm on herself which she feels she deserves or, once again, find something else to focus on instead of a difficult situation she is stuck in. Halo can be used the same way. We don’t want to do any homework or deal with chores. We don’t want to deal with parents or nagging spouses. We use Halo to avoid all these things, to enter into a realm where they don’t matter, where all that matters is who pulls the trigger first.
Finally, “Social-positive reinforcement for SIB involves gaining attention from others or gaining access to materials (for example ‘to try to get a reaction out of someone, even if it’s negative’ or ‘to let others know how unhappy I am’).” This is often a result that comes after the SIB has occurred. That is, the SIB participant wants someone to see the wounds and to respond. She wants some kind of interaction with other people and feels this is one way to gain it. It doesn’t matter whether the interaction is praise or blame. She simply wants some reaction or attention.
Anyone who’s ever played a Halo match online, with the headset plugged in, knows that there’s plenty of interaction, most of which is definitely not praise. We’ve even coined our own term for this “interaction”—nerdrage. You turn on the game, you log into a match, and you find nerdrage. You do well, you kill all the other team, capture the flag (and so on) and you get nerdrage either from the other team and your “cheating” or from your team and your “kill stealing.” You do poorly, and you get nerdrage from your team about being a noob. And the language. You get twelve-year-olds who put drunken sailors to shame. Voluntarily putting on that headset has to be some form of SIB simply because of the language.
Pull The Pin. You Know You Want To
In all this, we begin to see how SIB can overlap with Halo. Many gamers use Halo as an outlet to relieve stress or to escape whatever drama is happening around them. It can be a form of relaxation. Any gamer knows that a game like Halo can constitute a form of escapism. It’s a place we can go that’s not here. It’s the place to go and release that tension and anger. It’s the place we go to have some control—and nothing says control like running crap over with a Warthog and using a nice heavy machine gun on anything that remains. However, simply because both SIB and Halo are outlets to relieve stress does not mean that it is a form of SIB. It simply means that it can be a form of relaxation.
The problem arises when we are willing to go through such hell, so many respawns, and so much frustration just to reach that release. We have all tried to play games on “super easy” mode before. We have even tried to play deathmatches with bots with their settings turned down “just to kill lots of stuff.” However, this rarely gives us any enjoyment. Unless we’re playing Halo for the story, we want more than to just yawn our way through it. We want life and (virtual) death situations. The pain and suffering in Halo, just like in SIB, is what makes the game so appealing.
Remember Me?
Though these four divisions give us a broad understanding of what SIB is and how it’s used, we should look at a few of the motivations a little more closely. The first is that of driving away loneliness. Possessing loneliness, in and of itself, does not make you a contender for SIB participant of the year. As social creatures, it is natural for us to feel lonely when a companion (just anyone won’t do) is not around. However, what concerns us with SIB and loneliness is the extent we go to drive it away. As we saw, being willing to put up with random nerdrage is an argument for SIB. However, there are other ways to use Halo to drive off loneliness.
One way for us to do this is to join a clan, a forum, some community to give us something we feel like we belong to. We may know the strife, the flame wars, the drama that comes with it, but we need somewhere to go to be less lonely. Once again, it’s not the search for the connection with other people that can place Halo in the realm of SIB. It’s the acceptance, the sheer reveling in the flame wars and strife that goes on in the community that seems to place gaming there. As one poster on an SIB forum said, “I think my greatest fear is to be forgotten. A teacher I had last year doesn’t even remember my name—it makes me think that no one remembers me. How do I know I exist? At least I know I exist when I cut.”69 In these self-made communities, among the strife and flame wars, we try to make our mark on the (our) world, and we’re willing to go to great lengths to do this very thing.
Still, there are some major discrepancies. One arises when we consider the standard understanding of SIB. Typically, SIB methods are those such as “cutting, burning, hitting, severe skin scratching, and interfering with wound healing.” It’s most commonly acted out on the arms, legs, chest, and other areas on the front of the body. Some argue that this is simply for easy access while others argue it’s because those areas are easily concealable. “It is also common for an individual who engages in repetitive acts of SIB to identify himself or herself as a cutter or burner, establishing a sense of unique identity as a result of his or her behavior” (Jennifer Muehlenkamp, pp. 324–25).
If we consider this, we can see how it can be argued that Halo can’t be a form of SIB because of the “physical damage” clause. Dying in Halo or losing a match doesn’t result in physical harm. We don’t bleed when Master Chief gets shot, and we don’t feel the impact when we ram a Warthog into a wall. There’s a line between fantasy and reality that keeps us separate. However, this becomes complicated when we consider two things: how influential technology is and our connection to it.
No One Knows Who Threw that Nade
The psychologists Janis L. Whitlock, Jane L. Powers, and John Eckenrode, maintain that adolescents use the Internet primarily for social reasons. “The Internet has become a virtual meeting place where teens hang out with their peers to pass time. Many adolescents reportedly prefer being online to other media, including the telephone, TV, and radio” (p. 407). To support this claim they go on to state: “Computer access and use among adolescents have grown exponentially over the past decade.” More than eighty percent of American youth twelve to seventeen years of age use the Internet, and nearly half log on daily.
While the Internet is not the same as Halo, there is a connection. They both promote the same kind of environment and usage. We can turn it on, plug in, and silence the rest of the world. They give us a place to go where we cease to be ourselves and can become our handle or avatar. They both have their own unique social setting with its own set of acceptable behaviors. At the very least, the Internet is what has allowed Halo to become such a praised multiplayer game. It has supplemented its growth and changed the way we view it and interact with people through it. The list of similarities and connections can go on and on.
However, if we keep the similarities we listed in mind, we can begin to see how influential technology such as Halo can be. When we log on to Halo, we have the chance to interact with other people. We are no longer sitting alone. We meet with friends, strangers, and potential friends to play and interact
. We say and hear things that sometimes influence others. We are no longer isolated when we play. This gives us a place to develop and learn about ourselves. Whitlock, Powers, and Eckenrode also argue that “chat rooms and similar venues in which adolescents share experiences anonymously may provide a safe forum for less socially adept adolescents to practice social interaction” (p. 408).
This anonymity is where the connection to SIB begins. The idea is that because Halo allows a certain level of anonymity, it allows the player to express herself in ways that are not normally socially acceptable. The easiest example is, once again, the language. Most things said while playing, like the infamous Chuck Norris jokes that haunted us for so long or a discussion by grown adults over which Twilight character is the best, are only acceptable over something that provides this anonymity like Halo. This anonymity also allows us to participate in SIB without ever being discovered. It allows us to act out these behaviors without the risk of discovery and in a more socially acceptable way. Sure, some people will say that anyone who plays Halo is a loser. However, even this label seems somehow more socially acceptable than those who bear the scars of SIB. Getting killed over and over in Halo allows the same self-medication without the risk of accidentally causing serious harm or being discovered.
My Avatar and Me
The second consideration is the bond we develop with our avatars. As we spend more and more time playing Halo, we tend to identify and begin to empathize with our virtual avatars. Simply look on any Internet forum and see how many flame wars erupt when Master Chief is mocked (or what came about when a Halo character appeared in Dead or Alive 4 but was not Master Chief). This bond allows us to empathize and “feel” what they feel. If we simply look at reading or watching movies we can see how this is true. We cry when a character gets hurt or dies. We wish them the best through the stories and always hope it turns out a particular way. We rarely watch a movie or read a book completely indifferent to the characters. As we progress, we form a connection with the characters. The same thing happens as we play Halo. We begin to form a bond with the character. We begin to see that character as a manifestation of ourselves. We got the kill. We died at a certain spot.