Back in the olden days, it was simple, a division straight down the middle; a fifty/fifty split. You were either Nintendo or you were Sega. Hell, even the colours were different; Nintendos were white and grey, Segas were black. That's how it worked. I was Sega through and through (well, apart from my secret, illicit lustings after a SNES with Street Fighter 2). Most of my friends were Sega too, like some sort of desperately sad gang, we banded together, at one point even planning a hand written "zine" with reviews and stolen cheats. We all got our Master Systems for the same Christmas; somewhere in a photo album at my parent's house there's a photograph of me sat playing Alex Kidd on Christmas Day, dressed in the Leeds United kit that my Gran had given me. It would appear I'm spectacularly talented at backing the wrong horse.
Our devotion to the cause never extended further than school boy ribbing, a bit of pointing and laughing and statements such as "Urgh, SNES are rubbish." We still played on them, more often than not grudgingly admitting, at least to ourselves, that the SNES was far from rubbish. In fact it was probably better than our cherished Mega Drives. There was never any real fervour in our opposition to "the other side"; we were kids, we had Sega stuff because that's what our mum and dad had bought for us. Sure, we asked for it, but if they'd have come home with a SNES instead we wouldn't have been that disappointed. The thing is, we just loved playing games, we loved watching our friends play games; what console or computer they were on made no difference, we were there to blow stuff up.
And then things changed...
Video games stopped just being games; they became a lifestyle, a brand, a new way of looking at the world. Sony changed the way that digital entertainment was marketed; this was no longer the preserve of young boys and shy teens, games were for everyone. Wipeout was sold in clubs, PlayStation become a media synonym for anything that could play a game, much in the same way as Ipod now means any MP3 player. Coupled with the growth of the internet, video games suddenly became culturally significant, something with which you could define yourself. Whereas my friends and I had been happy to share, to play on anything we could get our hands on (I once went round to the house of a boy I didn't like just so I could play Alien vs Predator on the Atari Jaguar), now the console you used was a part of who you were.
The latest generation of consoles has brought with it a new kind of snobbery, a blend of internet terrorism and childish name calling. There are "fans" out there who swear such an allegiance to their chosen brand that they sabotage their rivals with coordinated attacks on websites, question the scruples of reviewers and critics who slate their cherished killer apps and generally make massive idiots of themselves. It's not about the games any more, it's not even about the console; it's about scoring points, making a scene, wearing a logo proudly on your sleeve.
I for one am sick of it.
We need a return to the good old days, when our sides were as badly drawn as the front covers of our zines. Our past time shouldn't be about what some other console can't do, the modes that the latest game from so-nin-soft doesn't have. It should be about playing games. It should be about having fun, inviting some mates over and thrashing them at Street Fighter 4. I don't care what console you own, or how long you spend playing every week, or whether or not you know what pwned means (or, for that matter, how to say it). We all need to learn to play together, regardless of the flag flying above our gaming castle. After all, we're not acolytes, we don't have to be standard bearers for the corporations we shovel most of our hard earned cash towards; we can just be gamers, and that's enough for me.