Video games as literature?

When we made a list of potential ways to express literature on the first day of class, I think we ought to have mentioned video games. I have experienced some exceptional storytelling through this medium. Recently, I have been playing two games that differ widely in their approach to unfolding the plot. The first game, BioShock, involves making a series of binary good/evil decisions, seemingly to determine the course of things for the character. It is later revealed that you are not actually in control, and you have been manipulated into taking a very linear progression through the game.

The second game, Mass Effect, features a lot of conversations involving dialogue trees -- a series of different responses and reactions for the character to give. Each dialogue option is ranked on a scale of positive, neutral or negative reactions, but a negative reaction is just that; it's not a "bad" choice. Any given answer can take the conversation in a different direction, and so making many of these small dialogue decisions over the course of a 40-plus hour game drastically affects the trajectory the story takes. A supporting character dies, but if your friend played it in a different style, it could be a different person in their experience with the game.

"Counterparts" and "Like a Winding Sheet"

Both Counterparts and Like a Winding Sheet feature a man with an anger problem as their main character. In the first story, Counterparts, the protagonist Farrington spends the majority of his work day slacking off and thinking about how he'd rather be at a bar with his friends. Farrington is a large, physically imposing man, but his minuscule and "egg-like" boss berates and scolds him ceaselessly. When he finally goes out drinking with his friends, he's beaten twice at arm-wrestling by a much slighter man, and has spent all his money on rounds for everyone else. He is broke, and certainly quite inebriated, even if he sees himself nowhere near as drunk as he'd like. When he gets home, his wife is at the chapel, so he tells one of his sons to heat up his dinner. When he sees that the fire had gone out, he beats the boy for his negligence, even though by the time he gets home, every pub has closed, so it is most likely late at night. But he had felt his rage building throughout the whole day, at one offense after another. I wasn't surprised at Farrington's actions, and I don't think he was either.

In the second story, Like a Winding Sheet, the main character, Johnson, is faced with a series of confrontations that increase his temper. He starts the day intending to get up early and make his wife breakfast, but instead lolls around in bed and ends up being late for work. The forewoman starts a racist tirade about how the workers are lazy and always making up excuses to be late. Johnson sees that his hands are clenched tightly and feels that he has very little control over them. He works a long shift, all the while thinking how much he dislikes it and how inefficient it is. After work, he stops in a diner to get a cup of coffee, and is told by the white waitress that they're out of coffee at the moment. He reads this as a refusal of service because he is black, and his fists clench again. When he arrives at his house, his wife scolds him a few times, and teases him lightly. This is the last straw for Johnson, or rather his fists. His fists strike her once, and then don't stop; all the while his consciousness is aware but unable to end it. His rage, like Farrington's is clearly growing from the start of the story. I knew some kind of violence would occur, but the character's disassociation from it was unexpected.

Neither this post nor anything I did today had any prompting

On Tuesdays I only have two classes, and I have my first one at 7:00 AM so I can get out relatively early at 10:00. I did this because it's my only regular day off from my job, so I more or less have the entire day to myself, which is really relative because I generally spend it with my boyfriend, Spencer.

Last night, Spencer and I decided to go to Braum's and get some milkshakes and french fries. We arrived only to discover that I had left my wallet at my house, and had driven from Plano to Allen without my driver's license. More importantly, we had no money for delicious milkshakes and fries, as Spencer's next paycheck hadn't gotten in yet. The whole evening was a failure and no milkshakes or fries were to be had. This morning, we drove to Braum's as soon as I got out of class, but we quickly realized that they, like most fast food restaurants, do not begin to cook their fries until 10:30! A quick glance at the clock told us that it was only 10:16, and after a brief debate we elected that our free time was simply too valuable to wait, and we merely enjoyed frosty chocolate milkshakes for breakfast.

In conclusion, this is like the fourth time in recent memory that I've tried to get french fries before 10:30 at a number of different restaurants and they should really cook them all day because who actually orders off a breakfast menu at a drive-through? Seriously.