🚨 NEW RULES: Don’t Be a Gamer. Talk About Games.
-
Two new rules have been added to this community, and they deserve some explanation.
Inspired by this comment, I started thinking about why so many gaming spaces feel shallow or exhausting.
The problem is that they are rarely about video games themselves. Instead, they become about “being a gamer”—a label, an identity, and a consumer tribe. That identity is built on cycles of hype, outrage, loyalty to platforms, and endless talk of hardware or marketing. It flattens games into consumable products, and the people into market demographics.
That’s not the kind of community I want to build. I’m here because I see games as art, and I want to share that perspective with others who think the same way. If someone views games mainly as a lifestyle accessory, or if their whole identity is wrapped up in consumption, then this space will feel alien to them—and that’s intentional.
Which is why the first new rule is simple: “This is not a gamer identity space.” It sets the boundary clearly. We don’t need the baggage of gamer identity here. This community isn’t a loyalty badge, it’s a place for deeper thought.
The second new rule grows directly out of the first: “Talk about games as art.” If games are art—and they are—then the most interesting conversations we can have are about design, aesthetics, mechanics, and meaning.
What is this game trying to say? What choices did the creators make, and why? How does its structure, its tone, or its style affect the way we experience it? These are the kinds of questions that lift discussion beyond consumption and into critique, interpretation, and appreciation.
I added this rule because I’ve seen firsthand what happens when you try to talk about games in this way elsewhere. In another gaming community (which doesn’t need to be named), I made the mistake of approaching the medium with positivity and seriousness—treating it as art worth celebrating.
The reaction was hostility. People saw appreciation as “shilling,” and thoughtful discussion as a threat to their outrage-driven culture. That told me all I needed to know: rather than fight to carve out space in communities built on negativity, it’s better to establish one that starts with positivity and respect for the medium itself.
So that’s the point of these two new rules. They’re not just lines in a list—they’re the foundation for what kind of community this will be. A place where games are treated as works of art, not consumer trophies. A place where we discuss choices, meaning, and design, not just hardware wars or outrage cycles.
This is a place where positivity is not only welcome but expected.
-
Two new rules have been added to this community, and they deserve some explanation.
Inspired by this comment, I started thinking about why so many gaming spaces feel shallow or exhausting.
The problem is that they are rarely about video games themselves. Instead, they become about “being a gamer”—a label, an identity, and a consumer tribe. That identity is built on cycles of hype, outrage, loyalty to platforms, and endless talk of hardware or marketing. It flattens games into consumable products, and the people into market demographics.
That’s not the kind of community I want to build. I’m here because I see games as art, and I want to share that perspective with others who think the same way. If someone views games mainly as a lifestyle accessory, or if their whole identity is wrapped up in consumption, then this space will feel alien to them—and that’s intentional.
Which is why the first new rule is simple: “This is not a gamer identity space.” It sets the boundary clearly. We don’t need the baggage of gamer identity here. This community isn’t a loyalty badge, it’s a place for deeper thought.
The second new rule grows directly out of the first: “Talk about games as art.” If games are art—and they are—then the most interesting conversations we can have are about design, aesthetics, mechanics, and meaning.
What is this game trying to say? What choices did the creators make, and why? How does its structure, its tone, or its style affect the way we experience it? These are the kinds of questions that lift discussion beyond consumption and into critique, interpretation, and appreciation.
I added this rule because I’ve seen firsthand what happens when you try to talk about games in this way elsewhere. In another gaming community (which doesn’t need to be named), I made the mistake of approaching the medium with positivity and seriousness—treating it as art worth celebrating.
The reaction was hostility. People saw appreciation as “shilling,” and thoughtful discussion as a threat to their outrage-driven culture. That told me all I needed to know: rather than fight to carve out space in communities built on negativity, it’s better to establish one that starts with positivity and respect for the medium itself.
So that’s the point of these two new rules. They’re not just lines in a list—they’re the foundation for what kind of community this will be. A place where games are treated as works of art, not consumer trophies. A place where we discuss choices, meaning, and design, not just hardware wars or outrage cycles.
This is a place where positivity is not only welcome but expected.
I really appreciate this. I would never call myself a gamer, but I play a lot.
A perfect example of this. We were in a Gamestop (it was empty, empty empty on a Saturday?) last week and Assassin's Creed games like Odyssey and Origins were $11. Those are a whole lot of games for around $11. They aren't perfect, and neither is the company, but I love the set design. I find one voice actor super annoying and the mechanics tedious sometimes, but there are a lot of hours of gameplay. Also, I can't remember what game it was, but as a reward quest for finishing the story or something, the player got to jump around Notre Dame. They've never done the reward thing since, which kind of pisses me off.
I also like playing the lego games with my nephew. He studies youtube for it. Don't hate me, but the Hogwarts was fun, again for the set designs. The Ghost of Tsushima is pretty great. These are definitely not impressive games to enjoy, lol.
-
undefined Oblomov shared this topic on
Gli ultimi otto messaggi ricevuti dalla Federazione
-
I really appreciate this. I would never call myself a gamer, but I play a lot.
A perfect example of this. We were in a Gamestop (it was empty, empty empty on a Saturday?) last week and Assassin's Creed games like Odyssey and Origins were $11. Those are a whole lot of games for around $11. They aren't perfect, and neither is the company, but I love the set design. I find one voice actor super annoying and the mechanics tedious sometimes, but there are a lot of hours of gameplay. Also, I can't remember what game it was, but as a reward quest for finishing the story or something, the player got to jump around Notre Dame. They've never done the reward thing since, which kind of pisses me off.
I also like playing the lego games with my nephew. He studies youtube for it. Don't hate me, but the Hogwarts was fun, again for the set designs. The Ghost of Tsushima is pretty great. These are definitely not impressive games to enjoy, lol.
-
Two new rules have been added to this community, and they deserve some explanation.
Inspired by this comment, I started thinking about why so many gaming spaces feel shallow or exhausting.
The problem is that they are rarely about video games themselves. Instead, they become about “being a gamer”—a label, an identity, and a consumer tribe. That identity is built on cycles of hype, outrage, loyalty to platforms, and endless talk of hardware or marketing. It flattens games into consumable products, and the people into market demographics.
That’s not the kind of community I want to build. I’m here because I see games as art, and I want to share that perspective with others who think the same way. If someone views games mainly as a lifestyle accessory, or if their whole identity is wrapped up in consumption, then this space will feel alien to them—and that’s intentional.
Which is why the first new rule is simple: “This is not a gamer identity space.” It sets the boundary clearly. We don’t need the baggage of gamer identity here. This community isn’t a loyalty badge, it’s a place for deeper thought.
The second new rule grows directly out of the first: “Talk about games as art.” If games are art—and they are—then the most interesting conversations we can have are about design, aesthetics, mechanics, and meaning.
What is this game trying to say? What choices did the creators make, and why? How does its structure, its tone, or its style affect the way we experience it? These are the kinds of questions that lift discussion beyond consumption and into critique, interpretation, and appreciation.
I added this rule because I’ve seen firsthand what happens when you try to talk about games in this way elsewhere. In another gaming community (which doesn’t need to be named), I made the mistake of approaching the medium with positivity and seriousness—treating it as art worth celebrating.
The reaction was hostility. People saw appreciation as “shilling,” and thoughtful discussion as a threat to their outrage-driven culture. That told me all I needed to know: rather than fight to carve out space in communities built on negativity, it’s better to establish one that starts with positivity and respect for the medium itself.
So that’s the point of these two new rules. They’re not just lines in a list—they’re the foundation for what kind of community this will be. A place where games are treated as works of art, not consumer trophies. A place where we discuss choices, meaning, and design, not just hardware wars or outrage cycles.
This is a place where positivity is not only welcome but expected.