Monday, October 29, 2007

Consider two people. Subject A fires up a video game about knights and wizards in a faraway land, then hits the eject button after half an hour. “Yeah, this is fun and maybe I’ll revisit it later,” he thinks to himself, “but right now this is just too weird.” Subject B clocks in 80-plus hours, successfully decking out his in-game leprechaun with armor fashioned entirely from fairy tears and the back hair of Poseidon himself, and shows no signs of stopping.

You might praise Subject B for doing what he enjoys, going against the grain, following his internal compass. There comes a point, though, when escapism costs too much. Extreme examples, to be sure, and the optimal point lies somewhere between these two subjects, but for now let’s return to Subject A.

Here’s where media self-consciousness kicks in, and it’s a conceit I’ve found fascinating recently. Say you’re sitting in a theater, watching a TV show, or playing a game. On the immediate level, you’re consuming the media, but how does the experience look one level up? How would it appear to an outsider? That’s where media self-consciousness comes into play. Certainly your choices shouldn’t be guided solely by outside input, but some external influence might help you better shape your media diet.

And what the public eye prizes most, I’d argue, is how closely the media sits to reality. Would the opening scenario change if the game were about counterterrorism or managing a presidential campaign? Add to this a positive valuation of the offline world, and the scenario changes yet again. Subject A fires up a game about political intrigue, then hits the eject button five minutes later, opting instead to go outside and toss around the ol’ pigskin. Slightly cooler, right?

You’ll be pleased to know that, in an effort to be more offline, this discussion was conceived on actual pen and paper. Only problem, I guess, is now I’ve got to re-type all this into Blogger. Foiled again–dammit.