Gaming Crisis

As many of you know, I have spent the last year working on a thesis about video gaming and Christian ethics (for related posts see here, here, and here). Apart from this meaning that I haven't blogged consistently for a while, it has also lead me to conclusions that I never thought I would reach. I am, in fact, having a GAMING CRISIS.

When I first started out on my thesis, I was pretty sure I knew where I was gonna end up. I am a pacifist by faith and by nature and the violence that I saw on video games haunted me. Watching my hubby and his friends play Black Ops together really use to bother me, even though what they were 'killing' was a) zombies and b) pixels. My first inclination was to run away and hide.

So when I started talking to hubby and friends about their gaming I was pretty sure that it was wrong. I thought it only glorified violence and killing and that didn't sit well with how I understood my faith and the person of Christ. I also just didn't think it was normal for anyone, no matter what faith, to enjoy watching others get killed, pixelated or not.

I was a student who started on research believing I knew what the conclusion would be. Hopefully I am not the only one who has ever done that.

Colour me shocked when I realised about two months ago that I was changing my mind.

Thanks largely to the work of Kevin Schut and his book Of Games and God (if you are into this kind of stuff seriously spend the few dollars to get this book, it is epic and so well written and easy to understand!) I started to delve into the world of Christianity and gaming and the beauty that there is in this art form. Schut, to my delight, didn't gloss over the difficult questions of violence etc, but rather engaged with it in a way that showed deep commitment to his faith and deep consideration of his love of gaming.

In short, his book blew my mind....and changed my thesis.

I began to seriously consider if I was one of those Christians that I had always despised. You know the ones. They are outside stores that are selling GTA with signs telling people how evil gaming is. I never wanted to be one of those people and yet my attitude was such that I was closed off to the idea that gaming could be anything other than violent and disturbing.

Meet my gaming crisis.

It is rather like a faith crisis, when you suddenly realise that everything you ever thought about the Bible was actually taught to you by a broken human being and maybe they didn't have everything right and maybe, just maybe, you know nothing at all about anything. That was my gaming crisis in a nut shell. I realised that I had formed my biased opinions on a small segment of gaming that I had seen and then blindly applied that to everything without stopping to ask if I actually knew what gaming was.

I was adrift in an ocean of gaming uncertainty.

To some extent I am still there. My thesis is not complete. In fact I am due to start writing my concluding chapters next week. Though I am excited about the discoveries I have made, I am also very uncertain that I really know anything about what I am trying to say anymore. All I know is, my conclusion will not be the same as I thought it would be.

I guess that is the nature of true research.

I have even started to game a little. I have started with Skyrim as my first game because of the possibilities that it offers. I am not tied into a particular character, nor do I have to engage in killing if I don't want to. It is perhaps a baby step, but it is something. This has come about due to the fact that Schut argues that you can't engage with a medium if you aren't involved with it. My friend Kent will be face palming right about now as he has been saying this to me for years, and I simply ignored him, so sorry Kent, I guess I couldn't ignore it when it was in print from a scholar of media haha.

So where does this leave me??

I HAVE NO IDEA!!!

Give me another two months to complete this thesis and I will get back to you. 

Just know, this crisis may end with me playing Black Ops after all.

Meet Albert

I want to introduce you to my friend Albert.

A 26 year old addict

Who lives on the streets of downtown Auckland

With his younger brother

Who begs across the road.

Albert looks old

Much older than his years would say

With years in his eyes that shouldn't exist

And pain etched in the lines of his face.

I met Albert when one day

I chose not to just buy him coffee

Not to simply give some coins

But to spend my lunch hour sitting on the curb

Watching people pass

And feeling as insignificant as he does daily.

A few days after meeting Albert I asked him

"what's your story?

How did you end up here with a strange woman

Sitting at your side,

Feeding you Mickey d's?"

He looked at me with a bemused smile and replied

"it's the same old story, nothing exciting."

I pressed on and eventually he gave in.

This is what he told me...

He told me of a mother with too many kids and too many addictions

Of a father barely remembered and gladly so.

He spoke of violence and police 

Of a string of houses

Where kids were paychecks

Siblings were separated

And sex, violence and abuse were normal.

Then he told me of the day a young 15 year old boy

Fled from a house that was never a home

Found his brother

And they stole into the night

On to the streets

Where they formed a life together.

At the end of his tale Albert laughed to see tears in my eyes.

For him, this story was typical,

For me, this story was terrible.

My anger at the injustice of it all burned within me.

He just shrugged and adjusted his blanket.

I got to know Albert more over the passing weeks.

I learned when he was high and wouldn't recognize me.

I sat with him when he was sober.

I saw him assessing the price of my engagement ring with his eyes when he was dying for a fix.

On those days I stood.

I bought him salad when he told me people only ever bought him fast food.

I learned his favourite brand of coffee.

And I met his friends.

Ross is a friend of Albert's.

They get high together, sharing a joint when money is low

Sharing glue when it is lowest.

He told me a story of a Christian family that didn't spare the rod or spoil the child

Of running away as a boy

Of finding solace with Mary Jane.

He ended up on the streets and tried to leave

After going to a detox centre 

Being set up in an apartment

Trying to find a job.

But life is hard in a house when your friends are on the street.

When no one will hire you for lack of qualifications

When you become reliant on the government to help you live.

'Corporate begging' was his name for the dole.

He was lonely

Alone

Afraid.

So he went where he was known

Went back to his street family

Went back to Mary Jane

And though he wishes he was clean, 

He is happier now than 'caged'.

I want to introduce you to my friend Albert.

A 26 year old addict

Who lives on the streets of downtown Auckland

With his younger brother

Who begs across the road.

Albert looks old

Much older than his years would say

With years in his eyes that shouldn't exist

And pain etched in the lines of his face.

He is man who is broken and asks for some patience.

He is a man who wants to be seen.

Do you see him?

2 Years On...Have I Learned Anything?

My husband and I just celebrated 2 years of marriage.

We met when we were both students with no responsibilities or commitments to speak of.

Nawww...look at us, so CUTE!!!!

Now he is working, I am studying (still), and we are looking after a teenager! Things have changed somewhat in the last two years. 

So I decided to do my top 5 things I have learned from being married to this amazing man...

5. The joy of Turtles, Butts, and Limpets.

Yes you read that right.

All of these three things have one thing in common: they are all nicknames that hubby and I use for each other. Kinda gooey and gross I know but we have a lot of fun with our nicknames. Turtle can become turtlebutt, or turtle limpet, or turtlelimpetbutt etc. I have no idea why this started. I know the first one was me calling him sweet cheeks (and not because of his smile wink wink, nudge nudge) but from then on in, it took on a life of it's own.

In fact, I am not sure I can remember the last time I actually used in name properly without any add ons or funny accents or anything. And I love it! It makes us laugh, keeps us from getting to serious with each other, and when you are angry with someone how can you not laugh when they are calling you a funny name to make you smile???

Look at that ass....


4. Dates to the Supermarket

If you have ever been a student you will know how hard it is to stretch the budget for anything other than the essentials. So for hubby and I, since day one of our relationship, actual dates have been out of the question for the most part.

So where do you go when you can't afford to go anywhere?

TO THE SUPERMARKET!!!

No jokes, one of my fav things still to do with hubby is just go and do the weekly shop with him. He may not feel that connected to our shopping adventures, but I feel like they give us time to slow down, pick little things out that we know each other likes, and a chance to talk about nothing much. When I don't do the shopping with him I find it stressful and icky. But doing it with him reminds me of when we were first dating, holding hands around everywhere because we couldn't get enough of each other, and choosing presents for each other.

Love in the vegetable aisle!


3. The Mundanity of Life

I love doing nothing with hubby. Seriously. As I write this we are sitting on different couches on our separate computers doing our separate things. But every five minutes or so he will look at me and say "I love you" or pull a funny face, or sing a line from a song, or 101 other weird things that he does that make me feel so loved. He also has this habit of getting up every once in a while just to kiss me, or reaching out with a hand or foot so he can touch me, even just for a second. I know he sounds too cutesy to be real, but it is true!

And I love it. I love doing the laundry with him and laughing as he pretends to get lost in the washing that is hanging on the line. Or cooking dinner and having him come up behind me to hug me and kiss my ear. Or cleaning the house and watching him rage over the vacuum cleaner. All these little things make life that much more amazing.

It's the little things....


2. The world's cheapest bouquets

One of my most favourite things are the flowers that hubby gets me.

He doesn't buy them.

He picks them.

Yup, this man is so perfect that he goes out of his way to look for pretty flowers to pick for me.

In fact, the other night, on our anniversary, we couldn't afford to go out and do anything special, so my man faked a phone call, went outside, found different kinds of flowers, and brought them back for me.

Now some people will say that is cheap. But for a girl like me who had never really been given flowers before in her life, the fact that he thinks of such things makes me go all gooey inside. That he wants to go out of his way like that for me, or that he would see a pretty flower and think of me. I don't know if it would be better if he had spent heaps of money on a flash bouquet. To me, his ones are perfect.

If they are good enough for God...


1. CUDDLES!!!!

My absolutely number 1 favourite thing of all time is getting to go to bed with my hubby and lie in his arms as we talk about our day. It is the place I feel safest and most at home and most loved. I love it when we are falling asleep and he rolls over to snuggle into my back. Or when he randomly grabs me and hugs me during the day. And I like it when things progress to the 'special cuddle' too :P

My man is definitely a lovey dovey kinda guy and it has taught me to be as well. He commented the other day that in the last two years I have become so much more relaxed and carefree. And he is right. I have. And it is thanks to having someone who makes me laugh all the time.

Two years is not a long time but it has been long enough for me to realise that there is such a thing as joy in life. It has shown me that even when stresses happen (and believe me, the last two years we have had our fair share) that they pale in comparison to the fun and happiness that can come from just letting yourself be a little bit silly and letting yourself be loved.

So Turtlebum, happy anniversary. I love you xxxx

All I Want For Christmas is EVERYTHING!!!

Christmas.

A time for family.

A time for holidays.

A time for presents.

A time for me to get totally pissed off at the world.

Oh yes, ladies and gentlemen, it is a Christmas Rant blog.

The hardest thing for me to decide while writing this blog is what pisses me off the most about what Christmas is in my Western, consumeristic, individualistic, narcissistic world. So I am gonna number them off, in no particular order, to help me not ramble too much and to keep the rage to the minimum.

THINGS THAT PISS ME OFF AT CHRISTMAS TIME:

1) Advertising.

Now advertising pisses me off most of the time. It is a constant in my life that I have become comforted by: when all else is falling apart I know that the TV will be a continuous and stable source of aggravation. But around Christmas time the advertising gurus go into overdrive. Buy this massive TV for your mum or you are an awful child. Buy your child this amazing gift they have never heard of but definitely need otherwise you are the worst parent in the world. 

But there is one thing that gets under my skin more than anything. The ads that tell me that I need to spoil myself this Christmas. If all the gifts from other people aren't enough or aren't really good enough, I should spend copious amounts of money on getting myself diamond earrings or a new outfit.

WHAT IN THE CHRISTMAS FUDGE NUGGET IS HAPPENING HERE????!!!!!

When the flip did we need to buy ourselves Christmas presents?? Have we become so self centred that the one day where OTHERS get to buy us a GIFT, as opposed to the 364 other days when we get to buy stuff for ourselves, is so crap, their gifts are so abysmal and depressing, that we reject them for what we can get because at least we will like that??

Come on people! I mean if you believe in nothing else about Christmas apart from family and fun and gift giving, then doesn't this mentality defeat the purpose? Haven't we killed Christmas, or what we believe Christmas to be, by making it about ourselves? Which leads me to…

2) It's ALL about family.

Family is great. We all love our families….most of the time.

But for some people, including me, we don't get to see our families at all around the Christmas season. This can be brutally painful, especially when it is shoved down your throat every second of the day for about 2 months leading up to the big day.

Happy families, family all together, go visit your family.

OK ALREADY! Let's just make us all feel so much worse for not being able to, thanks.

But not just that, when did family become such an idol of our society? What about inviting in strangers who have no where to go? What about helping the poor or homeless?

I have a Korean flatmate who told me that her tradition for her family and her church every Christmas is to visit the old and sick and to make them happy with gifts and singing. EVERY CHRISTMAS!!! I love this! When was the last time I though of people outside of my immediate circle for Christmas day?

3) Christmas songs.

I swear if I have to hear Snoopy's Christmas one more time while shopping I may start throwing things. I think this is slight post traumatic stress disorder from the year I went shopping in the Warehouse and this song was on a loop. I drove me mental and I can no longer hear that song without wanting to rip my ears off.

But I digress.

Christmas songs are loved by many people but because of my Christian beliefs and my life in NZ I find them increasingly bizarre. My beliefs tell me that Christmas has a meaning, namely the birth of Jesus, and Christmas songs seem so hollow and shallow when they are about presents and missing people etc and not about the actual reason for the event. I also have only ever once had a winter Christmas (in England in my teens) and so songs about white christmas's and running through snow really seem counterintuitive to me, which explains…

4) the New Zealand inability to create their own cultural Christmas

In NZ we seem unable to celebrate Christmas without the fake snow decorations, snow flakes stencilled on walls, snow men, and Christmas songs clearly singing about the Northern Hemisphere. We do have a couple of crappy Christmas songs about celebrating on the beach, and one (which I actually love) called Te Haranui about the first Christmas service in NZ (which will be celebrating 200 years next Christmas!!). But we seem to be so influenced by America and England that we can't break this trend. We will decorate Christmas trees with snow flakes and then go out to the beach for a swim. We will play Christmas songs about reindeer while cruising with our windows down in 25+ degrees C. It's nuts. It's a cultural schizophrenia.

Surely there is a way to do Christmas in a way that is authentically Kiwi without missing out anything important.

5) People who gripe about Christmas without seeing the good in it.

Just when you thought I was the grinch come to steal your fun and joy, I come out with that stunner.

I may have issues with Christmas and what it has become, but I love the idea of getting together with loved ones, celebrating Jesus' birth, swapping gifts, and spending a day having fun. Celebrations are important and this is one worth doing well. I love Christmas. I love going to church and knowing that every where around the world my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ are remembering this same moment, that we are joined in celebration on this one day. I love buying people gifts and seeing them laugh and smile when I give it to them. I love decorating and cooking and the build up. I love watching my niece and nephews freak out on too much sugar and presents. I love remembering that I have a God that loves to celebrate too, that Jesus' birth had singing angels and presents and wandering strangers welcomed into it.

But I don't love what we have made it into. I don't want everything I see for Christmas, but I do want a small thing that someone has thoughtfully chosen for me. I don't want crappy, meaningless Christmas songs, but I do want carols that retell the story of Jesus birth. I don't want to make it all about me or just family, but I do want to celebrate it with people I love. 

So what do you want for Christmas, and are you celebrating well?

Run Fat Girl, Run!!!!

The other day I had a crisis.

I wanted to go for one of my mega walks but when I went through the clean washing disaster struck.

My sports bra had broken.

Now if you are a woman like me and perhaps weigh a few big macs more than a happy meal, not having a sports bra when exercising is a problem of monumental size (no pun intended!!). I need a sports bra! I MUST HAVE A SPORTS BRA!

So I went shopping (thank you hubby's plastic card) and I was faced with a dilemma that strikes me every time I look for sports gear:

The world does not want big women to exercise.

Oh believe me, the world TELLS big women to exercise. Read any magazine, health website, or watch TV and very soon you will realise that being big is THE sin of today. You want to lose weight, you MUST lose weight, or you will die in your sleep TONIGHT!!!

If the bombardment of messages finally seeps through our fat layers to our simple minded brains (not me saying this, just the impression I get from the ads) then the first thing you MUST do is buy the equipment, work out gear and shoes.

Equipment: check. Shoes: check. Gear:…..

WHERE THE FLIPPIN' DO I BUY GEAR!!???

Sports clothes come in sizes that may cover my forearm and nothing else. If I am to look at sports clothes and deduce anything it is that skinny people love to exercise, while big people don't go near the stuff.

Which may be true, I mean it wasn't through doing exercise that we put on the weight.

But if you are like me and you are sick of being big, then you need the clothes that won't fall apart as you walk down the road. You need support in all the normal places, plus probably a couple more. You need something that will stop chaffing, will allow air flow, and won't show the sweat patches that arrive as soon as you stand up from the couch (oh yeah, I am sexy).

But when you go shopping, you can find none…of….these.

Bike shorts? Forget it. Good tops? No can do. Sports bra? Only if you are the size of a skinny teenager.

Even if you want to buy scales to keep track of your weight, most of the at home ones only go up to 120kg. Now this is a lot but I weigh more and these scales do NOT like being pushed beyond their limits. I should know, I broke my mothers.

So what is one to do? Believe the ads that tell you to move that lazy ass, or to believe the shops that tell you that you don't really want to do anything more than walking around the said shop and then going home for a lie down.

Luckily I eventually found what I was looking for (at 3x the price of the smaller sizes) (if you need to know where I went message me and I will let you know) but the mixed signals and the frustration of feeling like the world wants something for you but won't support you in it was almost enough to put me off.

This new bra better last forever, that's all I am saying.

A Long Walk To Wedgies

I am starting training for my walk from one end of the country to the other for charity (see here and here for more info). This training involves going for a 2 hour walk as many times as I can a week. Hopefully I will get up to once a day. At the moment it is once every other day.

And here is why:

This is the conversation my body and I have every morning before, during, and after my 8km walk. Enjoy.

ME: Alarm has gone off, time to get up.

BODY: I don't wanna

ME: Come on, you know you will feel great if you get up for a walk.

BODY: Nope. I hate you.

ME: Ok, seriously, you can't do this to me every morning! We need to get up!

BODY: You suck. You go for a walk but I am staying in this nice comfy bed.

ME: I am giving you to the count of three to get your lazy ass out of bed.

BODY: *blows raspberry*

ME: 1……

BODY: Can't make me

ME: 2……

BODY: But you love your bed!

ME: 3…….

BODY: HA! didn't work!

ME: GET OUT OF BED!

BODY: Geez, ok, you don't have to yell or anything.

ME: *putting on shoes*

FEET: What? What is this? I was sleeping? Wait…..I know these shoes…..DEAR GOD NO! Run feet, run, get away before she puts those mmmnnnfffdmmmmdmd the rest is muffled by shoe)

Me: *start walking*

LEGS: What? Wasgoingon? I didn't sign up for this! The sun isn't even up properly!

ME: Come on guys, just a little bit faster.

LEGS: I HATE YOU! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME!

ME: It's not for long.

LEGS: LIAR!!!!! We already hurt! Take us home NOW!

ME: *getting into the rhythm of walking*

BUTT: Hold the phone, who woke us up?

LEGS: It's the b***h we are attached to. She feels the need to abuse us again.

BUTT: But I am her favourite! She never makes me do anything! She just puts me on a comfy seat and that is me set for the day.

LEGS: Well aren't you lucky, she hates us, but not as much as feet.

FEET: mmmmmmmnnnnfffddmmmdddffff

BUTT: Shut up feet, we are hurting up here.

ME: *starts puffing*

LUNGS: Can…'t…..bre….athe…..

ARMS: Oh look, another nice day to be swung about.

BUTT, LEGS: SHUT UP ARMS!

FEET: mmmsshshsmmmttt

BRAIN: ok guys, ok, I got this, I will have a chat to her and sort out this obvious mix up.

BRAIN: Hi honey, whacha doing?

ME: Walking, getting fit.

BRAIN: Why you wanna do that for?

ME: Good for me.

BRAIN: Ok, I get it, you feel the need to better yourself. Hey, I am all for that, do it all the time. But you see, the rest of the body is in revolt.

ME: Suck it up, pain is good.

BRAIN: Now you and I both know that that is a lie. So how bout we just make it a short one this morning? You still went for a walk, you still feel good. But the rest of body feels good too. Whaddya say?

ME: No.

BRAIN: Ok, ok, I hear ya. How bout, you take the next turn back home, avoid the big hill, just walk the flat bit and take it easy? I am all for this pushing yourself thing, but Legs, they just don't get it.

ME: Must…keep….going

BRAIN: Well this is just silliness. There is the turn, come on, take it now, it's passing Christine, you going past it.

ME: Have to do the whole thing.

BRAIN: Ok, no worries, there is a short cut coming up and….

ME: NO.

BRAIN: It's no good guys, she won't budge.

LEGS, BUTT, ABS: WHAT??

FEET: wffffaaammmmm

BRAIN: OH, hello Abs, when did you wake up?

ABS: About 5 mins ago, really starting to ache, what is she thinking?

BRAIN: Well, apparently she feels the need to get fit. Apparently we aren't good enough the way we are anymore.

BUTT: Bloody hell.

LEGS: We have to convince her to stop!

FEET: mmmmnnnfnffffgggnnmm

ABS: What? What did Feet say?

BRAIN: I believe they were saying to give her hell.

LEGS: Challenge accepted.

ME: Oh God, I hurt so much. I can't go on!

BRAIN: I told you. I told you this would happen.

ME: I think I have blisters all over my feet.

BRAIN: Yes well, Feet won't really be pleased with that. 

ME: I don't know if I can keep going.

BRAIN: So stop. Look, there is a nice wall. Have a sit down and call hubby on your phone and get him to pick you up.

ME: No…I can do this.

BRAIN: Seriously? Can you feel your body right now?

ME: I can do this!

ME: Woop woop! I did it!! I got home!!

BODY: *collapses*

BRAIN: *Switches off*

ME: *lying on floor half dead*

Treat 'Em Like A Lady

I don't know how far the story of 'Roast Busters' has spread. I don't know if anyone outside of NZ has heard this phrase or all that it entails, but for those of you who are currently sitting there with bemused expressions wondering if I am talking about some sort of comedic toasting of the rich and famous, here is the brief outline of what has happened recently in my little ole country:

It came to light a few weeks ago that two teenage boys were running a Facebook page called 'Roast Busters'. This is in reference to roasting a pig on a spit. This will become clear to you later will disgust you. Be warned. These two young men have been, for the last two years (!!!), getting young girls drunk, often under age, and then having group sex with them, filming it,then naming and shaming the girls online (understand the pig reference yet??). There have been some girls who have come forward to the police and have been told that their behavior led to the incident so it was taken no further. It has also come out that one of the young men is a police mans son. No charges have been laid as of yet.

That is the short version. I am cutting out the outrage that has been sparked across the country, the women that have come out speaking against, and for, the young men's actions, and the plethora of comments that have implied, or outright said, that the girls were asking for it by getting drunk. Never mind that sex with a minor if illegal anyway. Never mind that this is coercion. Never mind that the boys involved acted in a despicable manner.

But this is not another rant about that, there are many other people who have said all that and much better than me. I am praying that the outrage will cause some kind of action at a political and legal level.

What I am interested in is how these boys think that what they did was ok?

And this got me to thinking - have we as a society ever taught them any different?

Children in this secular society are brought up being told that each to their own, every body is allowed to believe what they want, act as they want, have their own morality. Our tv shows teach that women are property, that they are sex objects that are only worth the amount of sexual desire they inspire. Porn is now a norm for our teenagers, it is abnormal to find a teenager that hasn't seen porn, and these videos, often violent, show women being degraded and enjoying it and these videos are the first sexual education our children are receiving. Advertising teaches girls that they have to be sexy, dress provocatively, and be cute, rather than smart, to get attention. Tell me which a teenage girl is going to choose book work over a cute boy? Boys are taught to be strong, to go and get what they want, and that "boys will be boys". Girls are sluts if they have sex, boys are legends. Fathers who would kill any boy that comes within ten feet of their daughters will turn around and pat their sons on the back when they lose their virginity.

This is what those two boys were brought up with. And then when they live it out they are destroyed for putting it into practice.

Can we really be that shocked that this has happened? Angry, yes. Disgusted, absolutely. But shocked? And should we be angry at two young boys who are products of their society or at the society which created them? How many 'Roast Busters' have to happen before porn is made illegal and taken off the Internet? How many girls have to be humiliated and destroyed before the legal system becomes victim friendly rather than disbelieving? How many young boys become distorted and destructive men before we wake up and realize that we need to do this very differently?

I don't care what religious persuasion you are, all of us can realize that this behavior destroys our humanity. And it highlights the importance of community, and the responsibility we all have to each other. Where were these girls friends? Parents? Why are their parents silent? Do their parents know? What is happening at home that they will act like this at such young ages? Are the schools aware of at risk teenagers? Are the neighbors? When does it stop becoming 'their issue' and starts becoming OUR children, our country, our world that is being destroyed by this? 

I am so angry at this situation I can't even express it. It makes me feel physically sick. But I am just as sad for the boys as I am for the girls. They have ruined their lives beyond their understanding. They have destroyed something about their humanness by acting in such a way. They have made a country hate them and will, if justice exists, spend time in prison. All because they acted out what they learned.

Maybe boys will be boys because they were never taught to be men...