The shotgun has been a key tool in videogame design since the inception of digital violence. What better way to paint a shadow of blood on an adjacent wall than with two white-hot barrel loads of buck shot and a childish curse word. The shotgun is a testament to our love of do-or-die suicidal heroics; charging in when all else has failed, usually at the dying seconds, and praying the enemy won’t be expecting your overt lack of subtlety – a battle cry is optional but strongly advised!

Here it is then, the ultimate list of melon popping, claret printing carnage; a list so comprehensive and well researched that if a disagreement arose over my choices a worm-hole would instantly develop and engulf the world in a blanket of paradoxical dark matter, thus, summoning the Dark Lord Cthulhu who would rule the Earth for a billion, trillion, squillion years or something…

Are they gone? Good.

Actually, I’m not going to talk about shotguns at all, sorry about the subterfuge, sometimes it’s the only way to grab your attention. I don’t really care what the five best shotguns in gaming are. I’m surprised anyone would be interested in something as subjective as digital firearm preference, because the matter is so utterly, utterly banal. It’s like asking a physics teacher to list his top five sub-atomic structures and the reasons behind his choices. No sir, I’d like to talk to you today about gaming journalism. It might not be something you’ve considered, but it’s a subject that I, and many people on this site, think about almost constantly. Don’t worry; I’ll keep up the subterfuge so those looking over your shoulder won’t get too suspicious. Here we go.

The Gnasher from Gears of War

How many gaming sites have you visited in your lifetime? I imagine most of us will be hitting triple figures by now. How many of those websites proudly displayed the fact that they are ‘a site by gamers, for gamers’? I imagine most of them have that exact sentence (or a bastardisation of it) somewhere on either their ‘home’ or ‘about us’ page. It’s a bold statement and one that means absolutely nothing, and I see it repeated all over the digital gaming press. Really, you’re a games site for gamers? What would be much more impressive is if it boasted that it was a gaming site by florists for pig farmers. At least that would be more original.

It’s sentences like this which make me question the point of gaming journalism. When I first started writing about games I was concerned that people wouldn’t want to read my articles. I didn’t think my writing style or choice of subject was that obscure, but it seemed to me that the majority of gaming articles being published were breezy, fly-by-night lists of such and such and snippets of information ‘leaked’ (direct from the press officers outbox) from publishers. Micro-journalism; produced quickly and about as deep as a Petri dish, these articles are spat out to increase page views and jack-up advertising revenue.

They call it drip-feeding information. I thought it looked like a form of Chinese water torture.

More than anything, this form of journalism increases the perceived interest in the next big title, and ultimately, makes big companies even more money. Sod that! Have you seen images of the offices at EA? Let’s just say they don’t look like they’re short of a few bob. I didn’t get into games journalism so I could make a board of director’s Christmas party even more Champagne-soaked. I wanted to challenge convention with original thought. Does that not sound a bit better, almost as if I were some form of journalist or something?

The Super Shotgun from Doom

Pretty soon it struck me that games journalism had a great duality about it. Sites were divided by their desired outcomes, and each site was designated as either a source of information (Chinese water torture) or a source of opinion (a site ‘for dentists by wine experts’), and that I had to make a decision between the two. This was not a hard verdict to reach. I would rather not write about games that fill a blog with instantly forgettable nuggets of pre-release nonsense. Joining Thunderbolt was a great first step for both me and my fellow ‘bolters. Once money has been removed from the situation freedom begins to flourish, and with freedom comes creativity, honesty and hopefully a sense of trust.

Am I making any sense here at all?

I’ll try and put this into some form of context for you. I’m sure you’ve heard this story as it was one that was widely circulated when it first broke, and was met with a wall of silence by the company in question; an action which is akin to being caught exiting a house wearing a ski mask and carrying a sack with ‘SWAG‘ emblazoned on the side. In November 2007, Jeff Gerstmann was dismissed from his position at Gamespot.com (a site ‘for donkey handlers by Restoration period monarchs’) having granted Kane & Lynch: Dead Men a poor score despite the site receiving huge amounts of advertising revenue from Eidos, the game’s publisher.

He lost his job for not playing the same game as his bosses. He lost his job for being an honest journalist! This fact should have shaken the world of videogame journalism to the very foundations, but unbelievably, Gamespot.com is still the second most popular videogame website on the net. How did they get away with it? Either we all have very short memories or we all really hate Jeff Gerstmann; I’ve never met the chap but he seems like a stand up guy to me. If we do ever meet I’d shake his hand and buy him a pint, he at least deserves that.

The Shotgun from Half-Life

Isn’t it strange that, although we’ve been lied to, we still flock to a gaming site because it gets all the news and gossip first? Does the fact that this company that has been proven to be so deep in the pockets of the money men that it is willing to dismiss a member of staff over a single digit number, not scream out ‘do not visit me for I will mislead you’? Reviewing games and ‘towing the line’, are two qualities no game journalist should ever attribute to each other. There should be no line to tow, just you, your opinions and a word processor (and perhaps a good bottle of Sangiovese).

Reviewing games is the bread and butter of game journalism. Writing a couple of thousand words about the graphics, gameplay, story and maybe even sound (something we’re occasionally guilty of omitting) can take a day or two to research, plan and write. Playing the game beforehand can take an indeterminate length of time (my heart goes out to those reviewing Skyrim), but all told, a review will take between 5-10 days give or take. It’s hard work a lot of the time, as no game is a simple case of black or white, but having to reduce the rich tapestry of videogame design into a number between one to ten is almost impossible.

In fact, it’s borderline offensive. It’s offensive to the effort of the coders and designers, it’s offensive to the hard work the reviewer has put in and, most importantly, it’s offensive to the reader’s level of intelligence. You have eyes, you have a brain, you can read and process my thoughts and opinions, why on earth do we need to quantify our results by aggregating and diluting our review into a meaningless number. How much better is a 4 than a 3? Does this gap mirror the distance of ‘goodness’ between a 6 and a 7? Who knows? Who cares? This is supposed to be creative writing, not arithmetic 101.

The Rossmore 239 from Resistance 3

So is this an issue of fly-by-night journalism simply an internet-created phenomenon or is it the future of games journalism? Ask yourself how highly you value the words of an internet review over those written in print. With the space constraints present in print journalism, editors must wheedle out the chaff from each and every story, preview, feature and review to ensure they are providing only the cream of the crop for their subscribers. Despite these restrictions bearing down upon the magazines, I imagine this is not their biggest enemy. Quality must be a burgeoning issue, but not one as irrepressible as time. Very rarely does a magazine advertise the fact that they have the best news first, as a monthly release calendar prevents ‘exclusives’ from being that ‘exclusive.’

Forgetting this issue for a second and consider the existence of a paper press at all. How many people do you know that have a games console and are not on the internet? The answer is none; whether it’s technical affiliation or whatever, the two seem to go hand in hand. Why then do gamers buy (often expensive) gaming rags when they can get the same information for free on the internet? Do we consider these opinions more valid because they are printed on dead trees? It’ll have to be a case of answers on a postcard, because I don’t have a clue. The only feasible conclusion is that gamers value the opinion of gaming magazines and aren’t ready to let go yet.

As it turns out, I’m one of those saddos who still reads these magazines. I’ve had a subscription to EDGE magazine since 2005 and get butterflies in my stomach when I hear it land on my doorstep – and I’m 27. I sit back and indulge, drinking in the commentary and featured articles without a word of opposition or vitriol. Despite disagreeing with much of what is written, I respect their opinion and await my next exciting installment.

The Winchester 1887 from Modern Warfare 2

Perhaps it’s because I’m a chubby middle class-white boy, perhaps it’s because I’ve been reading EDGE for almost two decades, but a bond of heritage and trust has built up between us. Although I am a games journalist, it would be remiss not to regard myself as a consumer of gaming literature also. When I ask ‘what’s the point of games journalism’ I should really have an answer for it; and I do. I read games journalism because I want to be involved in someone else’s opinion on a topic I hold in very high regard. Chances are, I’m going to disagree with what they’ve said, but that’s fine, that’s what comment boxes and letters pages are there for.

Are you still there? I hope so, I know I’ve not mentioned the word ‘shotgun’ in 1605 words but bear with me because this is the crux of the article and requires a bit of reader interaction.

Why are you still reading this? Life is a fairly short period of time when you consider the relative nature of time. Do you crave and collect opinion like me or do you require an insurmountable and encyclopedic knowledge of inane gaming release schedules? Both are fairly reasonable motives, but only one will motivate the industry to excel and evolve. Am I handing the credit to this golden age of gaming to gaming journalism? No, that would be stupid. What I am saying is that having a solid and honest opinion about a game is worth its (imagined) weight in gold to those who make games. Honesty breeds brilliance, and brilliance makes money. The industry needs honest opinions to highlight its mistakes and reward its triumphs, because when all’s said and done, we all want brilliant games.

So, next time you check the metacritic score of a potential purchase, think about what that number represents, and look for some meaning behind the average. Equally, if you want to textually castrate a reviewer for giving a low score to a game you’ve never played, but really like the last two in the series, just remember this simple phrase:

“IT’S JUST MY GODDAMN OPINION YOU MOUTHY LITTLE TURD!”

… and everything will be alright.