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LETTITOR

Photographer

Looking for a talented photographer to take photos at college events and capture college life on film.

 

 

Me and my disease

 
    

Liam Britten

editor in chief

lhe last week has been hard. I’ve

been laid up in bed the whole time,

completely unable to leave my
room. I’m not even kidding; my body just
will not let me leave my bed. But I guess
everyone’s going through it—or hopefully
getting over it by this point. This week
alone five million people got it, and many
of them will spend weeks beating it.

I am, of course, talking about the new
Call of Duty game for Xbox. I got it this
week and there’s not a damn vaccine that
can help me. Yes, move over swine flu,
Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 is the real
reason the entirety of North America is
incapacitated.

Modern Warfare 2 is a game that
glamorizes the senselessness of war like
no other before it. This isn’t so much a war
simulator game as it is a Jerry Bruckheimer
simulator—what with all the explosions,
the over-the-top action and lifeless
acting—and I loved every minute of it.

The game is pretty much your average
“rah-rah America”-type shooter. You go
around the world shooting the various
enemies of America, whether it’s evil
terrorists, evil Russians, evil drug lords, all
must die to protect freedom and such and
such!

It’s weird, but the giddy fun this game
has provided me is nostalgic in a way.

Not because the game has any throwback
elements; no, if any time a video game
can stop me from leaving my house or
make me stay awake for 16 hours straight
likes this one did it takes me right back
to being eight years old again. That kind
of nostalgic. I passed up opportunities to

go pub hopping, see my friends, to really
have a normal 20-something existence;
because I was in the zone, baby! I know

it may seem counter intuitive, but to me,
playing a video game for a few hours and
not completing anything is a waste of time.
But sitting around playing for whole days
at a time and finishing a game? That, gentle
reader, is progress.

I’m sorry if this editorial is a little
more disjointed and perhaps strange
than you’re used to, but days of playing
this game and having no human contact
have played havoc with my already
fragile psyche. I’m having virtual “Nam
flashbacks and the carpal tunnel syndrome
I’ve been developing might have earned
me a Purple Heart. Or at least a theoretical
Purple Heart.

After all, this game was released the
day before Remembrance Day (nothing
more tasteful than merciless killing on the
day to commemorate veterans’ sacrifices,
right?) and if we want to be known as a
respectful nation, we need to remember the
losses of all the soldiers, even the pretend
ones; to all my Xbox friends who pretend
died in the line of pretend duty—Gfunk
1337, reaper88, Thorpedo_69 and of
course, Jay 086—I’ll never forget what
you laid down for a fictional portrayal
of a country we don’t even live in. And
it’s these aspects that make Call of Duty:
Modern Warfare 2 such a potent symbol
of war; this simulation is destructive, full
of death and suffering and in the grand
scheme of things (as my week wasted in
front of my TV proves), completely and
utterly pointless. Just like the real thing.

Your friend in high fidelity,
Liam Britten

Editor in chief

The Other Press

 

- Must be willing to do some writing and have good writing skills.

- Photographer must be comfortable conducting simple interviews.

-A flexible schedule is essential.

Please send a resume, cover letter and samples of photographs to editor@theotherpress.ca

Deadline for applicatans: December 1