The Jones Report: The Five Stages of Post E3 Grieving
It's almost 4 a.m. and I can't sleep. I just got off my extremely delayed flight. Somewhere, high above Portland, Oregon, just after I'd woken myself up with a cacophonous fart, I sat in the dark, staring at the blinking red light on the tip of the airplane wing out the tiny window, and I realized that I was getting emotional. I was tearing up a little.
Yes, I'm overtired. So I could blame that. But then I started thinking about how my relationship with videogames is an emotional one. It always has been. When I tell people that I love videogames, I mean what I say. I love them. And, after 10 years of working in this business, I've grown to love--literally love--the industry itself. This is probably the only week out of the year when I hug more people than Oprah Winfrey. And these are good hugs, too! Strong, back-breaking, our-plane-is-going-down-and-I-love-you hugs.
Which made me realize that I'm going through something tonight. I'm pretty sure that I'm a full-blown stage five at this point.
1. Delerium Alpha. Being ridiculously overstimulated by 1000-pound subwoofers and 1000-inch plasma screens four four days can induce a dream-like state. Symptoms: Glassed-over eyes; slack jaws; wandering; flatulence.
2. Confusion. Overheard billions of times this week [always said in a frantic, panicked voice]: "Is this the West Hall or the South Hall?"
3. Skepticism. Everyone tripped over themselves to sing the praises of Project Natal earlier in the week. But by Thursday afternoon, the backlash began, with rumors circulating that the bulk of the Milo/Peter Molyneux content was staged.
4. Delerium Beta. "I think the Bayonetta booth lady and I might actually have a lot in common. I think I'll ask her to have a latte with me, and see where this leads."
5. Sadness. All the dumb swag T-shirts that I found in my suitcase tonight made me wonder what I was thinking when I accepted them as "gifts" from the various booths. Who was I? Was I in my right mind when I accepted these hideous, eye-burning T-shirts? I was not. I was in a magical, faraway wonderland. I was in a place where the lights were bright, where the liquor flowed freely; where there were games as far as the eye could see. I was in a place that, if you think about, doesn't really exist. It appeared, like a mirage, for one brief moment. And then it disappeared again. Gone. So yes, of course there's going to be some sadness tonight. And tomorrow, too.