Even now, as I read Kafka, Kipling, and McCarthy and watch films like Lawrence of Arabia and Hiroshima, Mon Amor and Fitzcarraldo, I still come back to the low-brow, B-movie, pulp-action sensibilities of Metal Gear Solid as a reference to what I want my writing to look like.
Even though it veers into babel an wankery, I still marvel at the characters and scenarios that game series creates and then injects into a very real world, one that looks not unlike our own. It's a model I wish I was capable of-- minus the drunken staccato, for year long gaps, and bizarre digressions. At their core, the Metal Gear Solid series is fun and still manages to find the time and space to be philosophical. I love Call of Duty, but there isn't a single moments reflection or meditation on morality in that entire series.
If anything Metal Gear Solid is too smart for its own good-- a genius series trapped in a moron's medium.
I'm drawn to all of this because I'm an idiot, inexorably drawn to trash. But I guess there's worse things to be, right?
Right?
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