Ants Ambridge's Blog, page 2

Videogames are violent. Really, Mr Trump?

I’ve spoken before about censorship and also about my take on gun control in the US. Yet only last week, an argument had been resurrected that I speculated was something that would be left in the past as an interesting fact on how backwards thinking people are capable of being. I’m of course referring to Donald Trump’s ‘think-tank’ on how to clamp down on violent video games in light of yet another mass shooting in a school.

The video they used to illustrate their point is available on YouTube. It is a couple of minutes of graphic kill scenes from a variety of games. The main thing missing from these videos is any form of context whatsoever. You can compile footage from any form of media to show almost anything you want to criticise them for is prevalent. To do this, you also must omit any form of context. The footage they use shows scenes from games where the player is either an allied soldier fighting Nazis, a survivor in a hostile wasteland or a zombie apocalypse, and characters trying to escape from a serial killer. In the context of all of those games, the general theme is kill or be killed, or in the case of the serial killer, it is an adaptation of a series of movies with sequels numbering in the double digits.

I’m not saying those games aren’t violent, far from it. They do have extreme violence in them. The violence is also less graphic and visceral than scenes found in many popular movies, or in some cases even TV shows. I’m not suggesting, unlike Donald Trump seems to be, that violence in any media causes real world events – that is absurd and has been debunked by many years of research. I think what is important to note is that at no point is anyone subjected to that level of sustained violence as depicted in the video. There is always a break, be it a cut scene, or a change in pace or even a game over screen if you are a scrub.

What really shocked me was the notion put forward that ‘nothing’ is being done to prevent children gaining access to this media. For a rogue senator (often corrupt) to make statements like this, as has been historically the case, it is usually an attempt to gain exposure and a name for themselves. For a president to do it, it is worrying. It means that not only are they not aware of the world around them, but also that no-one is willing to correct them when they are wrong. What implications does that have for things such as foreign policy? Just to make it clear, in the US and abroad, the exact same measures are taken to prevent kids from buying Grand Theft Auto as there are to stop them purchasing The Human Centipede. There are age restrictions on the games boxes, clearly displayed, and fines for stores caught supplying them to people not of that age. Of course, younger people do get to play them and they get to see age restricted films too. But the responsibility for that lies with parents, not the government.

An attempt to pin the causes of recent tragic events on the media also makes the Trump administration look a bit thick. Videogames are not exclusive to the US, in some cases it isn’t even the biggest market. People are playing these games worldwide in huge numbers. Grand Theft Auto V, the poster game for any debates on these issues, has sold 90 million copies across the globe. Even if these types of games affected 1% of the people that play them, that would be around 900,000 people committing violent acts on earth from that game alone – it would be an epidemic crime wave. It is far more logical to suggest that gamers are less likely to be out committing crimes, since they are spending so much time playing the games at home. It wouldn’t necessarily be true, but in light of crime rates in other countries where these types of games sell well, it makes a lot more sense.

I suspect the reason behind this ‘debate’ isn’t that anyone concerned genuinely sees these things as a threat, they probably just don’t like them. But a high profile attack on something many people enjoy serves as a distraction from finally sitting down and discussing that there might be a correlation between the ease of access to firearms and mass shootings. Or perhaps it is an analogy for an attack on the ‘right’ to bear arms? 15 million gun owners in the US who clearly like them, they aren’t all killers, not even a high percentage of them, why should the good ones suffer? I highly doubt America’s president is that thoughtful. Far more likely to be the distraction of the former, on behalf of the generous donors from the NRA. It is clear to the rest of the world that something productive needs to be done to try and prevent more children from dying. With last week’s videogame debate, it seems that they would rather trample on the First Amendment to protect the second.

My debut novel, The Night out of available on Amazon here. Link is to UK site, but it is also available in most other amazon regions too, where shipping charges will be less.

Leaving.

Matt jolted backwards as the plane hurtled down the runway. No matter how many times he flew, he could never get used to the initial burst of speed launching the vehicle into the sky. Once the shaking finished, he began to relax. He’d been given a window seat, something he didn’t like as it meant disturbing people next to him throughout the journey to use the toilet which for some reason, he required more frequently on a flight.

He watched as the ground below grew smaller until it was eventually replaced by clouds. Matt was leaving for good. He sold off most of his belongings and now prepared for a new life. ‘Good riddance UK’ – his initial thought on the matter. He felt driven out by the bitterness and spite that seemed to surround him in the small town that once he called home. Now there grew a distance between him and the place he’d lived for most of his life, he wondered if it truly was the right decision.

Memories of all of the good times he spent there flooded through his mind. It seemed easy to focus on the negatives at the time, but he had so many good friends that professed that they would miss him after he’d gone. All of the laughter, all the parties and the ability to be ‘known’ in most of his haunts. All of that now gone, he attempted to focus on the backstabbers, on all of the negative shit he could muster, but that was now already behind him. His only focus at that moment; the potential loss.

The plane’s interior suddenly went dark. He assumed that being a long haul flight, the lights were turned off to allow people to adjust to time zones. For a few minutes, he remained gazing out of the porthole style window. His eyes strayed to the tiny screen in the back of the seat. White noise static greeted him. He checked the seats next to him, theirs’ were the same. Only at that point did he scan his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was that every single screen in his eye-line contained the same flickering static. It illuminated all the other passengers in a translucent blue-white light. When he looked at the other passengers, he suddenly felt cold. All were sat rigid and upright, staring blankly straight ahead. Their mouths hung open wide as if registering shock at the lack of broadcasts in front of them. He shook the passenger next to him for a response.

The passenger bucked like a rag-doll as he shook him. After he had finished, the passenger’s head turned slow and deliberate to face him, mouth still agape, head hanging downwards as it turned, as if the effort of movement caused it to increase in weight. The eyes vacantly stared at Matt, causing him shiver. A milky white film covered the eyeballs, resembling the worst cataracts he imagined. The passengers arm rose, finger pointing in front of him, stopping at the height of the screen in front. Through the static, the word ‘godly’ appeared flickering, then faded away. The passenger resumed the same pose as the rest, leaving Matt to question what was going on. He began to struggle with his belt.

– What’s happening? Is anyone around?

He continued to pull at the clasp on the seatbelt, but not being able to gain any purchase. The loose nature of the belt meant he was able to stand at an awkward angle which he did to attempt to use the screen light for a better look at the fault with the mechanism. As he did so, he caught a movement further down the plane close to the toilet area. He squinted through the gloom to try to ascertain what caught his eye.

– Hello? What’s going on?

A figure, shrouded in shadow, clearly at the other end of the cabin, but moving without pace towards the light of the seats. Although he could not clearly define any details, it was clear something appeared unnatural about the movements, a stumbling gait that seemed to be causing whoever it was painful jerks in all of their joints. In unison, the other passengers all raised their hands, forefingers extended in the direction of the as yet unseen entity.

Matt’s body became rigid with terror. This was all too strange for him to deal with and he frantically tugged at the belt. He wanted to leave his seat, at the very least to find another sentient person who could maybe explain what was going on to him. Then he saw what was coming. Lank, shoulder length, grey hair flowed from what appeared to be a man, but the hair flowed as if moving underwater. Its skin; wizened, brown and wrinkled. It looked to him as if it had been shrink-wrapped to its skeleton, all moisture sucked out. The eye sockets appeared empty. Large black pools replacing where eyeballs should be. The creature also kept its mouth open, similar to the passengers, but the right side of the mouth hung down lower, like it had suffered a stroke.

It wore clothes that Matt had only seen on cereal boxes. Dusty and ancient looking Quaker attire draped loosely off the shoulders, pants ragged, tied with string at the waist which to Matt appeared to be no bigger than most people’s arms. He understood the jerky movements, this thing’s limbs seemed brittle and unable to support any weight. I continued to lurch forward, black nothingness staring intently back at Matt from its skull. Dust, or dirt, crumbled and fell with every creaking step it took.

Matt was yanked backwards and felt a dull pain in his abdomen. The belt suddenly tightened, dragging him back down to his seated position. It didn’t appear to be tightening further, but the constriction left him held firmly in place. The things head lowered slightly to match his new level. Wide eyed with panic, he fruitlessly yanked at the belt, kicking out his legs at the seat in front of him. He still had no clue what was happening, only that he didn’t want that thing anywhere near him. As he thrashed, the passengers laughed, mirthlessly in unison. They would stop abruptly, then begin again. Cold sweat poured from him as he continued to struggle, the presence growing ever closer.

The being stood only two seats away and began to clamber onto the tops of the chairs, steadying itself on the ceiling as it used it’s spindly legs, which had more length than he noticed previously due to its hunched stagger. His arms thrashed out and tears of desperation leaked from his eyes. He felt his time had come and was angry that there were no answers as to why. As the thing perched directly in front of him, he stammered out pleas for his life and barely formed questions. The passengers all raised their arms in unison, pointing them upwards in 45 degree angles from their bodies. Despite his fear Matt sarcastically thought them to be dancing to a village people song and forgotten what comes next.

Spindly fingers grabbed the side of his head with surprising strength. His head, fixed in place staring back at the desiccated flesh of the thing’s face. It remained still for what seemed like an eternity; the soulless, cavernous eye sockets remaining fixed on him. As he looked into them, he viewed everything he’d done replayed in an instant. He saw his life as he had lived it, mostly positive. A calm washed over him as the visions stopped. The things mouth widened and he a stench washed over him as it grew closer. He wouldn’t fight it, he wouldn’t beg. He closed his eyes and waited for the end.

Seconds passed, which seemed like an eternity when waiting for death. He couldn’t stop himself from opening his eyes again. He blearily made out dim lights in the cabin, screens showing the flight path. The passengers were lowering their arms looking at each other with puzzled mirth. The thing had gone. He didn’t know why it appeared, or why it left, but the sense of relief was a better feeling than any night out he ever had.

He could see land in the distance, the sun appearing to emerge from within it. A new chapter beckoned.

—————————————

Thanks for reading this. It’s a special post today as my friend, Dave, is leaving the UK permanently in a couple of weeks. It is his birthday tomorrow, and he has been asking me for a while to try my hand at writing horror. When someone is emigrating, the last thing they want is people buying them more stuff to weigh them down as they leave, so I struggled to think of what I could do for his birthday/ leaving. I thought this would be a fitting tribute inspired by his journey in a manner that he requested.

On that, I’m pleased as hell for him. He is quite literally following his dream and moving to Japan. Whilst I will miss one of my closest friends, I couldn’t be happier for him and I can see his last couple of weeks here being amongst the best he has had. But better times are to come for him and I’m going to do everything I can to get out there to visit as often as possible, if not join him. It’s a brave decision and one I admire. Bon voyage and Happy Birthday Dave H.

If you enjoyed the story why not take a look at my first novel available here? It is also available in other amazon regions, simply change .co.uk in URL to .com or your countries equivalent.