Why Is It a Pain In The Ass to Play Games With My Friends?

There was once a time where you could play games with your friends and family. Together. Not tethered to an internet connection.

Before I came to America, my siblings and I would play games all the time. We’d hook up our Nintendo 64 on our shitty concrete floor connected to our TV that’s smaller than a white man’s wiener with four of us huddling around in a semi-circle to get a perfect view of the TV. We’d have bowls of fried rice in our laps, we could hear our parents’ variety shows in the other room, and the concrete floor would keep our asses nice and cool in the hot Asian summer. We’d play Mario Kart, Super Smash Bros, GoldenEye, and Mario Party 2. It was simply bliss, and it was pure fun with no strings attached. We of course stole that shit from the internet cafe the next town over, but I digress. The point is, local multiplayer games are simply the apex of what a game should be. Fun, immersive, and a social experience. It allows you to enjoy the moment with your friends and family.

So what the fuck happened? Online multiplayer happened.

Don’t get me wrong, the idea that I can curbstomp some Lithuanian kid in Super Street Fighter 4 on PS3 in 2023 is fucking amazing. But the focus on taking away playing on the same couch as your friends in games that should have that feature is just plain ass wrong. Such is the case of Destiny 2. Made by Bungie. The creators of fucking HALO. Which is arguably the game that popularized couch co-op first person shooters. In Halo I just called a buddy up, ask him to bring some weed over, and we’d jam out killing aliens and shit to a bitchin’ soundtrack. And that was it. In Destiny 2? We both need to buy a whole ass game console, we both need to buy the game, then we both need to buy the fucking Playstation Plus for 60 dollars a year (the cost of a whole ass game) for the privilege of playing the game since it doesn’t even work offline. And then we have to buy the latest expansion that removes content from old expansions.

What a god damn shit show. By the time we go through all of that, the wind gets taken out of my sails and I have to contemplate slitting my stomach open with a katana for financially rewarding this fucking bullshit and bringing dishonor to my family. You can’t just play a god damn game anymore. It has to be a “live experience” that only digital crack-addicted zoomers and Chinese gacha game players would appreciate before they blow their family’s bank account to space dust to unlock the pink gun skin for the AR-16 Bazooka machine gun that shoots purple dildos covered in rainbow sprinkles and whatever pedo bait loli character in Genshit Impact.

The crazy thing is, I don’t know if I can even safely blame video game publishers for doing this. It’s the easiest god damn money in the world. It’s easier to do this kind of whaling instead of the Japanese way and makes way more money.

No, I blame zoomers and gambling addicted fucks that can’t put their anime jpgs down for two seconds to go play actual fulfilling experiences such as Senran Kagura Estival Versus and Oneechanbara: Bikini Zombie Slayer if they need their titty experiences.

So what should we do? Go back to playing old games. Because these new games aren’t for people with friends, they’re for zoomers living in the age of separation.

By Hiro Shima

Professional code-talker who rode a tsunami to America to pursue his lifelong passion of writing video games. He decided to take up drinking while in MIT and now writes about them instead.