However, this cruel ultimatum she presents not only will NOT solve the problem, but will create new problems. First, it reveals her as wanting to change YOU to better fit HER needs. And second, it shows her lack of enthusiasm to truly get to know you through a huge aspect of your life. In spite of this, it is crucial that you do not counter this with the “fight fire with fire” mentality. Don’t believe me? Go ‘head and see what happens when you turn the lights out as she’s reading, “How to Change Your Man in 10 Easy Steps” - it won’t be pretty. However, there would not be such problems if she would attempt to "see what all the fuss is about", and sit down with you for a gaming session. Part of being in a relationship is sacrifice (why I believe the institution of marriage is against human rights, but that is another story for another day) and that does NOT mean sacrificing a life-long hobby that alleviates your daily stress. If anything, the guy might play more to escape from the extra stress the girl has put on him. What would that accomplish? And if the boyfriend actually does put down the controller for good, she might be happy, but his life quickly feels empty. Then once this emptiness changes your everyday demeanor, you catch hell for “not being the man I fell in love with”. What’s a gamer to do? The true sacrifice one must endure in a relationship is learning to love your lover for whom they are, even if it pisses you off sometimes. If he loves to play video games, join him, you might actually like it. The boyfriend will be happy to see you take part in his world, and will have no excuse not to take part in yours. Like reading? Ask if he wants to accompany you to the library every once in a while, or join a book club with you. You both will learn new things about each other, and thus a deeper love will be seeded. The authoritarian approach is not the way to make a relationship run smoothly. Truly invest in each other, and happiness will be found. And if that doesn’t work, you guys should probably break up.

“Watch out for the guy in the bubble shield, he’s got a shotgun!!” screams your teammate, a little too loudly into your ear piece. But with the score tied 49-49, and one more death yielding the game to the blue team, his dramatized shouts are warranted. But just as you’re about to empty a family of needler rounds into “HaloGod67”, a voice from behind you exasperatingly says, "Can you turn that down? I'm trying to read!” And just like that, it’s game over for you. The distracting remark that caused your team the game came from your ever-so-pissed girlfriend. It seems for the diehard gamer who refuses to “grow up” such ignorant pleas are all too familiar. Despite your video gaming hobby earning the horrible ire of non-gamer girlfriends, a true gamer never gives up until he’s won the last fight, played through it again on the hardest difficulty, and collected all of the achievements. If left untouched, the situation reaches its boiling point and the dreaded ultimatum is presented: "It’s either the Xbox or me" she says. How did it get to this point? But more importantly how can this be resolved? Everything was fine when you first met her - movies, dinner, and great sex. But soon the novelty of the new relationship wears off, and with it comes off the masks we wear to lure one another in under false pretenses (if you take that literally – seek help). Eventually the movies become fewer and farther in between, the dinners become repetitive and stale, and the great sex is replaced with a few seizure-like seconds of “thanks for trying”. She finally sees you in your authentic form, as you now see her. Forget Sephiroth, Liquid Snake, or even Bowser - she’s worse than any digital antagonist you’ve ever encountered. To her, your gaming reflects a childish inability to cope with the pressures of the real world, and poses a threat to her position in your life. To you, her incessant nagging and threatening over your gaming makes her take on the form of an unholy, authoritarian Nazi vampire, who won’t rest until your entire video game collection is annihilated!

The United Nations committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women recently drafted legislation calling for Japan to ban all "sexual discrimination" against women in video games and anime. The committee states that it is "concerned with the normalization of sexual violence and cartoons featuring rape, gang rape, stalking, and the sexual molestation of women and girls". While it is understandable to be concerned about such themes as rape, it is not real! Nobody is actually being harmed, as this is merely animation that was created in the imagination of the artists. As disturbing and offensive as such animations may be, banning them is an attack on not only the imagination of Japan, but all mankind! It seems South Park's imagination land episodes held a bit of foresight to them after all. One such anime that springs to mind is Ninja Scroll, and it's infamous rape scene. However, seeing this did not make me a fan of rape nor did it "normalize" it for me. If anything, it reflected an ugly aspect of life that unfortunetely does happen. And isn't that what art is supposed to do -- to reflect the condition of the world in which we live? Although games, anime, and comics depicting rape and other forms of sexual violence may seem immoral, I reference Oscar Wilde when I say that art IS immoral. I'm sure there is much debate to be had on this topic, and I would love to hear your thoughts on the legislation! http://www2.ohchr.org/english/bodies/cedaw/docs/co/CEDAW.C.JPN.CO.6.pdf Source: http://g4tv.com/thefeed/blog/post/698783/UN-Committee-Asks-Japan-To-Ban-Rape-Games.html#readmore

If you would have asked me 2 years ago how many times in my life I've had the word nigger directed maliciously towards me I'd of been able to count it on one hand. Despite this I knew that racism wasn't gone, but just publicly subdued. Eventually I found that raw racism found its vent in the technology age through the anonymous safety of screen names and gamer tags, but I'll get to that later. The first time I heard the word nigger I was about five, and I was riding the bus sitting next to a greasy faced, older kid named Andy. Andy was having a conversation with one of his friends when I heard that word come up. Being the curious runt I was and not recognizing the word I immediately asked him what it meant, and without so much as an "uhh" or "ya see…" he told me it was a good word. How I found out the true meaning that same night I'll leave up to your imaginations (Picture a dinner table and many shocked faces). Speaking of faces, I wish I could have seen Andy's oil retaining face cringe on Tuesday night when America elected our first black president. That's right, black. Some people would have you believe that he is not black with the basis being his white mother. My perspective is different being I was born in Monrovia, Liberia to an African mother from Sierra Leone and a white American father from Pennsylvania. Growing up I was always confused as to what "color" I was, and humorously ended up labeling myself as "tan". A trend I eventually noticed was that white friends would say I was "half-black" (like it was a bad thing), and sometimes even introduce me like that when I went to parties with them! Not one of them ever considered me to be white. On the other hand my black friends never called me half anything, to them I was black because I shared the experiences that other black people do. Although my black friends did make jokes about giraffes and lions being that I was born in Africa, even though I was there for less than 2 years and I've never seen either animal in real life. It frustrates me that they know so little about the land where their genes so few generations ago crossed over, but that's another story. Furthering my perception of what the world thinks of a mixed race individual such as myself came in 2006 when I finally scrounged up enough money to get broadband internet and an Xbox 360. Since then I've lost count how many times people have called me nigger (after I utterly embarrassed them on Halo 3 of course). Honestly I was pretty shocked to learn how many people out there still resort to racism, but I never let it bother me too much. These racists assume the word is supposed to trigger a conditioned response in me, so when my response is the exact opposite of their expectations it freaks them out. Sorry, but I'm not one of Pavlov's dogs. The reason I classify Barrack Obama as black first and foremost even though he is of many different backgrounds is because of my personal experience, and the fact that every mixed person I've known has been considered black. I was black when I was called nigger online nearly every time I played; I was black when some cat carrying old bat called the police on me for playing basketball in a basketball court over 10 houses away from her house; and I was black on the police report after the cops beat me up 3 weeks ago for no reason (yes, it does happen). So now that someone of a very similar background and facial features as me has been elected to the highest position in America they don't want to call him black? Please. However Baylor University students offered a reminder to America that President-elect Barrack Obama is indeed black in their racist, out of date reaction to the election by hanging a noose from a tree. Thanks Baylor, your bon fire of Obama/Biden posters flames the commitment to create change in this country.

We are virtual warriors in the computer space age. Our CPUs tick coldly to the rhythm of our hearts, and gizmo's and gadgets whir with a deafening buzz that vibrates through our souls. The 1940s predicted flying cars, guns that shoot laser beams, and green alien women that seduce the male population. While I'm still anticipating the former, we are content with hybrid cars and digital information panels, nuclear weapons and guns that still shoot boring old bullets, and Alienware technology minus the exotic alien T&A. According to the highly touted Demolition Man theory in 2032 high class dining will take place at Taco Bell restaurants (Grilled Stuffed Foie Gras); Schwarzenegger will have his own presidential library (How to unleash your inner Terminator = best seller ); and sex will become impersonal and take place in virtual environments (uBlow Mii technology?) Now these 1993 predictions hit the proverbial golf ball closest to the hole. Indeed, we are warriors chasing the ever expanding dream of a space age within a space age. We shoot your polygonal platoon; you burn down our virtual village. We phish your MySpace account; you spam all our email accounts. We download your over hyped music; you whine because you are in it for the money. We move from our MySpace to your Facebook; Your Facebook becomes our MySpace. We are warriors culturally trading space-aged blows while waiting for our space age to happen. Computers are the cornerstone of our lives. Without them our world would become dark, hard to navigate, and lonely. Our enemies know how to exploit this to their advantage. If I may paraphrase from one of my favorite recent movies, Body of Lies, our foes have realized that they are fighting people from the future, so if they act like they are from the past then we cannot see them. Technology has given us great steps forward but in doing so has made us lazy and vulnerable. Computers can train, steal, spy, connect, disconnect, entertain, and do everything we're too lazy to do, but they cannot feel emotion or love. However, just like computers, we are becoming systematic, programmed, and detached. Our lives revolve around repetition. We want our food fast like instant message and eat at the same places from state to state. We rarely investigate for ourselves and instead are infected with the twitter syndrome where we follow the already established names. We go out less, and instead find love through dating services that match us by our raw data. Humanity is quickly becoming computerized. As the Google earth turns and our Bluray discs revert back to the title screen for all night repetition, we dream of a Jetsons-like space age of universal health care, peace, and affordable technological advances that further the human condition without the smugness side effect. We dream of a space age where fuel isn't a four letter word for death, where new weapon technology is scrapped in favor of new medical technology and still, we dream of green skinned alien women who will systematically procreate with us. We are warriors in a still dreaming space age. Wake up.