What happened to make me, in order, spray grape soda on the interior of my windshield, make a fool out of myself on national radio, and then make sure that everybody else in the world knows what I did by writing a column on it? Stay tuned.

We are living in a crowded world. Ideas are constantly pushing on in on us from all directions. Like swimming in ocean of tar, it’s thick, hard to move around in, and most dangerously, it sticks. Ideas can come at your from anywhere, friends, family, teachers, doctors, the mass media. Everyone has an opinion, everyone has a point of view, and they don’t just want to share it; they want you to believe it too. You struggle to be clean, you can’t help but let some of it stick to you. You’re in the tar already, and you must struggle to remain free or let the tide…uh…carry you….?

Ok, I’ve kinda lost my place in this metaphor. The point was how hard should one fight to keep negative opinions from becoming conventional wisdom. For when an idea, a bad idea, becomes something “that goes without saying” it comes impossible to correct or to change. So when the video of a New York High School student being the victim of a savage beating goes viral and makes the news worldwide, we have to be wary of what kind of easy conclusions that are drawn and fight back.

I love grape soda; I think it’s a great change of pace once in a while from the traditional “cola-flavored” sodas that dominate the beverage market. So I was sitting in my car minding my own business, eating lunch out there as I always do when I’m at work (big shocker that I don’t make enough bringing keen and cogent insights to you, I do this because you deserve it) and a man comes on the radio and tells me that, among other things, that on the top of the list of causes for this interpersonal disgrace are so-called “violent video games.” Presto: purple haze.

Now this isn’t just some local news and weather jock, this show syndicated nationwide, and this reflexive blaming of our medium can not become customary, someone must fight back! And when the radio’s call in number it the airwaves a second later, I knew it was a sign.

Fishing my RAZR (trendy plus 2 years) out of my pocket I rang him up knowing full well that even the prospect of a long wait won’t stop a good righteous indignation jag. On only my third try, I got thru and once the producer heard what I wanted to go off on, he put me second in line after the news break. So I sat there and while sopping up stray drips of purple beverage I plotted a rhetorical course thru what would no doubt be troubled radio waters.

Ten minutes later I was on the air, NATIONWIDE.

Now even thought this all took place a short time ago, I’m afraid what exactly happened had been lost in haze of ego. But let me shore with you that I first gave my qualifications that I, like the vast majority of gamers, was not some kid who (for example) would commit a crime, videotape it, and post it on YouTube. And then I gave my coup de grace, my silver bullet argument that shatters any sorry attempt at blaming my hobby from this type of assault. That’s right, I used Elvis.

Fifty years ago busybody scolds peeled paint off of wall with their hysterical ranting about how Rock and Roll music was going to end civilization. Have you eaten a neighbor lately? No? The world didn’t end! And guess what: it won’t end now.

Finishing with an appeal to personal responsibility (games don’t kick peoples asses, people kick people’s asses) the host complemented me on my intelligence (and non-ironically!) and we parted amicably.

Mission accomplished! I reminded America that gamers are articulate and passionate group of people and helped put aside the idea that we are a psychotic cult of gamer-droogs out there roaming the streets, preying on the helpless. Now all we have to do is make sure no one reads a gaming forum.

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Comments? Questions? E-mail me at seth410@gamertransit.com. Complaints? I don’t use the word meme!…..dammit!
Back of the Bus is © 2007 by Seth “4:10” Robison, used with exclusive permission by gamertransit.com. Reproduction without permission is prohibited.