"Sorry, Venkman, I'm terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought."

We men are a manly, intimidating bunch. We're tough, no-nonsense types, relatively shallow and usually rather fashion-less. Given a choice between going shopping -- the classic definition of "shopping" guys, consisting of being dragged from one "hip" looking retail establishment after another, putting on very similar looking (expensive) things and trotting them out for display like some moderately animated (if "animated" includes "complaining incessantly" ) manikin -- and, say, oral reconstructive surgery, we'd probably take our chances with the tooth doc. When our wives/girlfriends are backed into a corner by a roughly 1/4" diameter spider that she later swears was lunging menacingly toward her and spitting flaming ichor at her, it is the hubby that gets called in to save the day and flush the little bastard down the commode before it can gnaw off her legs and sit comfortably on her tender abdomen, openly mocking her helplessness.

Men are typically the protectors of the family unit, with all of the implied requirements of fearlessness and willingness to apply shear brute strength when required, like when the Smuckers container gets stuck. I am personally comfortable in this role. Arachnids hold no sway over me, reptiles of all manner give me no pause, they haven't yet created the human that menaces me and all species of cunning condiment containment quiver in fear at my approach for they understand that the tasty treats they are secreting are simply not safe in my presence.

So why can't I hack Doom 3?

Most of us -- at least the card-carrying "Gamers" that supposedly constitute our readership here -- have by now seen the glorious delight that is the Doom 3 engine in action. I know that as I eagerly wandered the initial levels, I couldn't help but bounce lightly in my seat, so excited was I at what I was seeing: swooning over the live terminals, tittering while staring at the characters and their wondrously rendered skins, watching with glee the supremely sexy shadows and lighting (in the spirit of open reporting, this writer chickened out from any more play last night following the very beginning of the "hell breaks loose" part and he is dutifully peeing sitting down today). Say whatever you will about this being a good game or not (actually don't since we'll just lock the thread on your sorry bickering asses anyway) but few people could argue that this isn't the most visually impressive title in history. This is only as it should be, being developed by arguably the most talented graphics engine creator breathing currently.

Graphics engines in general have actually exceeded Moore's Law in many ways, generally requiring more computing power than is available at release. Doom 3 is a perfect case in point as no hardware in existence can run the game flat out at the highest resolution of the most modern of display devices, just like Quake 3 Arena before it. And Like Quake 3 Arena, in another 3 years machines sold for a pittance at Walmart will be capable of running Doom 3 with nary a hitch at ludicrous resolutions. As we all know, these graphics-rich titles are actually technology sales drivers, enticing vast sections of the game consuming world to prepare for their release by upgrading their machines, injecting millions of dollars into the coffers of companies throughout the supply chain.

If only other technologies within gaming could be so flush with attention.

This week as some of us may know sees the release of arguably the most anticipated game of the millennium thus far, by one of the most respected developers in history. Can't say I'm not tempted. I drove obliquely near a retail establishment that caters to our breed but somehow found that one last shard of restraint that kept me out of further revolving consumer debt. I don't know from whence that shard sprang forth, but I know its days are severely numbered. I know me, I know my tendencies, and if there's something shiny and curvaceous that apparently threatens my tender setup with actual physical pain -- I envision my aging, beleaguered GeForce 4 Ti4200 writhing in a near-ecstasy trying to render even the opening movie -- I know that I will soon find myself sheepishly walking out of an EB Games around 60 dollars poorer.

But that day has not yet come. Instead, I am doing what comes naturally to some and is a painful, despicable process to others: I'm cleaning out the backlog.

I never finished Super Mario Brothers. I should get that out of the way right now. I could blame it on the fact that I never owned a Nintendo system of any type, but that's a cheap copout. I spent more of my time back in college in my friends' dorm rooms on their Nintendos whacking away at this game than I did on my own Sega Genesis system sitting neglected in my own room. And I never beat it. Never came close as far as I can tell. There never seemed to be any end to those cursed, tile-based levels with its little secret passageways -- oh look! another God-forsaken underwater level -- and treasure alcoves. A man could go mad.

Last night I finished The Chronicles of Riddick on my Xbox. I've had it for about a week I guess, but given that I usually count my available play time in minutes, I feel like I got an acceptable level of enjoyment out of it. I estimate roughly 8 to 10 hours of play time over that time period, but who's counting?

Lots of people, apparently. Take a look at any public forum discussing games, ours included. Show someone an FPS or other action title and one of the first questions out of their mouths is "how long does it take to get through?" I suppose this is understandable to an extent -- money doesn't grow on any trees that I've yet found -- but is game length everything?

As I mentioned in my recent faceoff between Rallisport Challenge 2 and Colin McRae Rally 04, Xbox Live seems to be really hitting its stride in admirable fashion with an increasing selection of highly engaging titles available with variable degrees of support. Just this week sees another title in the stable with the release of the redoubtable -- ignoring the adolescent jibes and panderings of our youthfully exuberant CEOs -- Full Spectrum Warrior offering a rather tantalizing co-op mode exclusively over Xbox Live.

Microsoft could have rested on its laurels with the feature set delivered in the 1.0 version of Xbox Live but they didn't. The 2.0 version laid the groundwork for their launch of the XSN Sports network with website/gamertag linking and the recently released 3.0 version included support for such future features as per-title storage and increased clan support -- both of which have yet to be supported by available titles.

The much-ballyhooed XSN Sports functionality has been in place for roughly 9 months. Comprising a series of first-party titles -- NFL Fever 2004, NBA Inside Drive 2004, NHL Rivals 2004, Top Spin, Links 2004, Amped 2, and most recently Rallisport Challenge 2 -- covering most major sports, the XSN Sports brand was intended to provide a unifying structure for the ultimate online sports gaming experience. It was to act as a single gathering place for like-minded gamers to set up tournaments and full seasons of multiplayer action, with complete stats tracking and leader boards. Sounds dandy. So what's wrong with it?

"Well," he said, "as your attorney I advise you to buy a motorcycle. How else can you cover a thing like this righteously?"

If there's one genre that seems exceedingly well represented on the Xbox it's the driving game. It's been a long time coming, but I think Microsoft's console is finally hitting its stride in terms of providing quality racers, and we're getting new exclusives at a steady pace. Even the relatively maligned category -- at least domestically -- of rally racing is seeing healthy competition with the exceptional recent releases of Colin McRae Rally 04 and Rallisport Challenge 2. So what's a gamer to do with this veritable plethora of vehicular gaming goodness? Choose between them, of course. Step inside to see which one most deserves your hard-earned green.

Multiplayer gaming is simply the way things were meant to be. Sure, the finely crafted single-player experience offered by some true gems should be cherished, but nothing will equal the experience of interacting with your fellow humans toward some common goal -- even if that common goal is to annihilate each other in creative and entertaining ways. It'll take a whole lot more processing budget than current development houses are currently able to allocate on AI before the richly textured experience of playing with or against another sentient being is equaled.

With all of the golden promise of online gaming, the chalice is still slightly out of reach. As in Sway's insightful article, we are left wanting for that perfect experience. I believe I have found the critical weakness in multiplayer gaming. Humans.

If I were truly fiscally conscious, I should by all rights only own a single game at any one time. Maybe this puts me in the minority of "gamers," but I find that when a game really hooks me it doesn't leave the tray of my Xbox or computer respectively. Look at me now, utterly transfixed by the glory that is Splinter Cell: Pandora Tomorrow multiplayer on the Xbox. It would take a concerted act of violence to extricate Splinter Cell from my feverish (but stealthy) grip, and that's with the charming Ninja Gaiden sitting bereft and forlorn in my gaming drawer next to the equally neglected Colin McRae Rally 04. I sit at my home computer to dabble in Unreal Tournament 2004 or America's Army only under abject duress, when the Xbox has been cast upon the rocks by the wife so that the TV can spew non-interactive hooey. I hesitate to even call myself a gamer.

Perhaps it's a function of decreasing gaming time that the time that I do spend gaming is dedicated solely to the title most likely to generate pure joy. When you're trying to balance work, being a husband and father, and gaming, there's not a ton of space for dabbling here and there with possible fun. If I have an hour to game, I'm absolutely going down the path of least resistance. I brook no crap, I don't engage in gaming foreplay, I'm a selfish gamer.

I am utterly convinced that the world -- this world -- as we know it will end roughly around April 27th, 2004. Asteroid, spontaneous combustion, overarching plague... something is going to happen to create the End Of Days. Why? I'm getting a tax refund for the first time in recorded history and I figure that's how long it'll take for said refund to transit the labyrinthine corridors of our beloved IRS, pause briefly in whatever twisted, malevolent server handles direct deposits, and finally find itself comfortably ensconced in my savings account. Oh, I double-checked, made sure I hadn't dropped a '0' somewhere, hadn't inadvertently written off 75% of my income to charity or something. Nope. I get cash money back. This is miraculous, on the order of the parting of the seas or the Carolina Hurricanes winning a Stanley Cup.

So, what would any right-minded gamer do with such a healthy bestowal? Spend it on gaming crap, of course. I figure there's a new video card, DVD burner, and outright games in my near future. Theoretically, at least, given that I'm married and have lots of things to pay for.

What about you people? Any unexpected tax refunds heading your way for some much-needed and much-deserved gaming bliss?

If I had to guess, I would theorize that few hobbies are quite as expensive as ours. For a true gamer, each month sees temptation in the form of exciting new titles or hardware, must-haves that attract our attention -- and our cash -- as surely as an infant will hurl colorful, staining offal on us precisely when we can least deal with it. This is our joy, this is our bane.

Console gamers at least have the benefit of avoiding the Great Hardware One-upmanship for years at a time, but even so the hectic pace of quality titles can quickly drain the reserves of even the most affluent gamer (surely an oxymoron). At $50 a pop -- with some stellar exceptions popping in at $20 like the recently released Carve and Colin McRae 04 -- the average month would bankrupt most of us in short order. So like all good consumers we budget and pick and choose carefully, not wanting to get burned and waste that crisp, green picture of Grant on something undeserving.