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fact in one’s dorm room would be
unthinkably, unforgivably otaku. And if
this sort of sentiment is not completely
alien to you, dear Reader, then maybe it
makes a little more sense that an arcade
peripheral, unlike a stack of DVDs, would
inspire an attractive, interested young
lady to briefly consider if she really
wants a long-term relationship.
Allow me to draw upon a contemporary
example; one of my fellow dormdwellers
came into the possession of a
no-questions-asked copy of Square’s
straight-to-DVD movie release, Final
Fantasy VII: Advent Children, and held
an informal screening in our living room.
While I was unable to attend, I returned
to find a living room packed; about half
were Americans (all of whom had either
played through the original Final Fantasy
VII or had been forcibly dragged along
by a friend) and the other half were
Japanese (of which a handful had
actually played).
As Advent Children appeals almost
exclusively to people who at least know
of Final Fantasy VII, this instance speaks
very clearly to differences in Japanese
and American attitudes toward gaming.
While some of the international students
had played Final Fantasy VII, the
experience of those who hadn’t played
FFVII seemed largely akin to, say,
someone going in and seeing Star Wars:
Revenge of the Sith without having ever
seen any of the original Star Wars
trilogy; though they won’t have
experienced the fully continuous Star
Wars experience, they still have some
concept of Star Wars as culturally
relevant. Conversely, the Americans in
the room who had never played FFVII
were horribly lost in a haze of beautiful
fight scenes and choppy editing.
Let us consider gaming as equivalent to
a mild narcotic habit, whereby it’s
perfectly acceptable for Yoshiko from
Waseda University to wander into my
room during a party and ask if I have
marika (Super Mario Kart), or to pick up
the MAS stick and explain to me during a
game of Street Fighter III: Third Strike
that she used to play all the time with
her older brother, back in the day (“no,
I’m not a gamer, I just do it socially at
parties”). And perhaps that, in turn,
explains the puzzlement and surprise
with which Yoshiko later confides in me,
“It seems everyone here likes Sen to
Chihiro ,” upon encountering more than
a few rooms with movie posters for the
American release Spirited Away – oh,
how otaku. It conjures up that moment
of utter solemnity when beginning potsmokers
and beer-drinkers will pass on
to each other the sacred Addiction Rule
of Thumb – do it as much as you
want, dude, just never by yourself.
That’s when you know you’re an
addict.
So, we are welcome to bemoan the fact
that the vast majority of the industry is
dedicated to pumping out games
devoted to asinine movie licenses,
football and life-simulators that consist
of stealing cars, buying clothes and hot
coffee (which should now be the officially
recognized street slang for having sex
without taking off your clothes). We can
wring our hands at the appalling lack of