Libel 2013
‘E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial’
“Call of Duty: Black Ops II,” “Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3,” “Call of Duty: Black Ops”: some games have their moments but then fade like the rubbish they are. Others remain with us throughout time, becoming cultural icons and models to the entire video gaming industry. Examples include the wildly creative “My Disney Kitchen” or the thrilling, shocking “Secret Agent Barbie.” But no video game has been more influential than the visionary “E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial,” originally released for the Atari 2600 and now making an unaltered return to PlayStation 4, WiiU, and Xbox 720-or-whatever-they-call-it. Dearest readers, I command that you cease studying for Biology 2960 or browsing Reddit and play this game. Why, you ask? Because “E.T.” is the best video game…ever.
This master oeuvre opens with our beloved protagonist descending from on high in his purple spaceship to what appears to be a swamp or forest or something composed of two shades of green. The player uses the joystick to skillfully navigate the world of green and dark green, searching for pieces of a telephone so that E.T. may “telephony abode.” The two colors of green clearly represent the developer’s view of our human world as a verdant paradise for the fledgling alien and are thus symbolic of man’s great potential to better the collective lives of those around him while remaining environmentally conscious. Unfortunately, such a beautiful concept has its detractors, such as the FBI agent who immediately attacks E.T., who is portrayed as a bright green slime ball. Clearly, Atari wanted us to question our judgment of others based solely upon appearances, so they made the loveable pile of manure into a far more hideous creature.
E.T. will randomly fall into pits, some of which contain the necessary phone pieces as he moves about the green world. This symbol of our collective plight, that we must bear the slings and arrows of life subject to unanticipated pitfalls, references the classic “Hamlet” and T. S. Eliot’s modernist “The Waste Land” in one fell swoop, a task unachievable except by the most genius of authors. As E.T. wanders about, he may find a black dot, clearly representative of Reese’s Pieces. The collection of these delicious snacks appears to have no impact on the game, reminding the player that many tasks in life are ultimately pointless, harkening back to the existential ideals of Kierkegaard as revealed in the illustrious “Fear and Trembling.” Eventually, after about six minutes of game time, the player will acquire the phone pieces, perform domestic telephony and rejoin the veritable spirit in the sky, per Norman Greenbaum’s best wishes.
No work can possibly compare to “E.T.,” a modern masterpiece by every measure. The idea to pick up ammo in modern first person shooters clearly stems from E.T.’s attraction to Reese’s Pieces. The collection of telephone pieces is shamefully copied by the star collection system in “Super Mario 64.” To deny the influence of “E.T.” is heresy. Buy this game now.