We exist in all avenues of community.

The self-deprecating Jew who humbles himself not only before God, but also his very family and peers, to the point of sorrow and self-hatred.

The wrathful, angst-ridden gay gentleman unsure of how to deal with his feelings, lashing out against his own brothers.

The bashful, often standoffish level 75 Samurai on Fairy server.

Yes! I am a self-hating nerd.

FFXIII is clearly *snerk* subparIn circles around the world, we exist as that element taking a solemn pleasure in our task, yet riddled with guilt for reasons all our own. Can you blame us? We take in that around us and, to our minds, conceive that we are part of the problem. This is not for us to judge; but we have judged, and grimly. I hate nerds like myself for what scant little we bring to the cultural table. Yes, the brighter among us have secured jobs speaking and writing about that which brings us joy, and even among them the humble number few. But the majority! They guilt me into second-guessing my own hobby.

Enjoying video games is no sin. They are, as any other cultural medium, a gift that we receive from creative minds. We pay for these things, experience them, and then craft longwinded blog posts wherein we bash the creators for not doing that which we are not even qualified to do in the first place. The catch is that some of us are qualified, and we sit idly by.

Let’s be clear: criticism is the cornerstone of any fostering medium. It is our duty to cast out that which is unnecessary and, be they sound, promote new ideas for the industry to contemplate and explore.

By and large, we nerds do not do this.

Disclaimer: Does not suckNot you, obviously. But the incensed tween on the Final Fantasy message boards, the sharp-tongued goth smoking outside the Meijer, the audibly-bearded malcontent on your latest favorite podcast are all working against us. They are beyond critiquing; beyond hatred! Tearing down what teams of minds have cobbled together from only their brains and a room full of computers. “This game mechanic sucks! And this developer sucks! This game sucks as a whole! Ergo, for having paid $60 for it, I suck.”

Shrink! Are you taking this down?

Every time I hear a friend talk about a band whose most recent work is not quite up to par with previous albums, I get this: “Their new album sucks.”

Let’s be clear a second time: “Sucks” is a deceptively strong word, though its potency has been diminished by the suburban Uruk-Hai. If a group of people who in the past crafted your favorite album of all time have an off day (or year, or decade), it is still a move of undeniable douche to brand them as sucking. The mind behind the new album is the same mind that gave you Pinkerton, or New Adventures in Hi-Fi, or OK Computer. A remnant of it is there, and it is your responsibility as a fan to describe how and why you feel the new material is wanting, and how they can use this feedback to create something more to your liking. If you truly, honestly believe something sucks, you are doing a disservice to both yourself and the creator by not telling them about it in detail.

To wit: merely voting with your dollar is bullshit.

Or are you some kind of pussy?I’m not saying that we should be lining up to educate the hopeless. We’re not about to start an email campaign to Michael Bay in the hopes of getting Dickweedtron in Transformers 3: Dolla Dolla Billz Y’all. But for fuck’s sake! Recognize that the games you love are a labor of that very emotion! Realize that these people are not quite dead yet! And at the risk of sounding like an old man, have some respect!

In my time, I’ve been known to subscribe to the philosophy known as “Final Fantasy sucks now.” No, it doesn’t. What sucks is your (my) (in)ability to detail what you (I) didn’t like about the game and do something about it. If you have to, learn Japanese and send an angry email to Square-Enix. Don’t sit in your dorm room beneath the dark glow of your Donnie Darko poster and bitch about what is beyond your control. Sure, the development team is driven by whatever the kiddies are into, but do you really have so much self-respect that you wouldn’t be counted as one of the kiddies, even if it meant getting a fantastic game?

It is 2009. You are reading this on the internet. If you’re too fucking lazy to deliver proper feedback to your creative idols, it is time to either find a new hobby or make good on the creative drive that you were born with. Seriously about to just give up and link to some Bill Hicks videos if you don’t get it already.

First: Have some respect for what these people have done in the past. Second: Have some hope that they can do it again. Have the balls to contribute and get them back on the right track. And third, failing that, have the gumption, the patience, and the vision to take things into your own hands when the minds of previous generations are spent.

A friend of mine within the industry feels cranky with the JRPG bullshit of this and past generations. What is he doing about it? What can a game journo possibly do to combat this plight?

He’s making a goddamned JRPG.

For the past 25 years, he, we, have learned what works and what doesn’t. We know what we like and don’t like. We appreciate the format! We know that it’s capable of amazing things! We know (we can’t forget!) how we felt the first time we played that one game that told us “Wow! Shit! This is a hell of a hobby!” And yet, some of us are too timid to do what has to be done, whether it be complaining to the source (by which the alternative is Just Sitting Back and Taking It) or striking out on our own.

So what do you do when your favorite band puts out a shitty album?

You pick up the fucking guitar.