What Do Your Games Say About You? - July 6th 2009

I am Professor S. Fraud (in no way related to an Austrian psychologist of a similar name) and I can diagnose you. Games are windows into your very character, whether senile Strategy sensei or bouncing Beat-'Em-Up baby, revealing the untold depths of your soul as a gamer. Not a believer? You soon will be.

The Beat-Em-Upper

Fraud's Analysis: The subject, rarely under legal drinking age due to the popularity of Street Fighter II in the 90's, is dexterous, tactical and measured. However, characteristics of what I've diagnosed as 'Controllersmashingomorphia' are taken on when tested against, in one subjects words, 'a button-bashing son of a b****'. Forgoing the currently popular EA Analogue Control in favour of screen-long button combinations, the subject has evolved a separate brain compartment for storing Mortal Kombat Fatalities. Note: One of my subjects experienced intense, disturbing nightmares about a big, blue, bald man with a Yin-Yang in his belly...
Fraud's Prescription: Invest in an Arcade Stick to minimize risk of Controllersmashingomorphia.

The Party Gamers

Fraud's Analysis: Despite the obvious connotation with parties, this subject is socially malnourished, forgoing large crowds, dance music and little red cups filled with alcohol in favour of three or less close friends and a videogame supporting splitscreen gameplay. Caution should be taken when mentioning the death of party games at the hands of online functionality, as the subject has fond memories of 'pipping Luigi to the finish line after a mean blue shell'.
Fraud's Prescription: Call up some members of the opposite sex, take four Black Eyed Peas Songs with a cup of vodka, and call me in the morning.

Party Games. If off the music variety, ensure someone likes singing, or is suitably inebriated.

The Sports Gamer

Fraud's Analysis: Differing from real-life sports players in most physical, social and intellectual regards, The Sports Gamer would choose rather to run a mile from a football pitch than a mile on one. Citing the physical risk as more than enough justification for shirking away from activity outside of the game realm, the subject only enjoys competition if no sweating is involved. Unlike most other gaming peers, the subject is perfectly content in spending disposable income on yearly updates.
Fraud's Prescription: Perform half an hour of physical exercise daily (no, Wii doesn't count).

The Life Simulator

Fraud's Analysis: The subject, so conscious is she of reality (in this case, it's rarely a 'he'), wishes to extend her experience. Perfectly happy with substituting real emotions such as true love and happiness with a mouse, keyboard and game disc (preferably something by Maxis), the subject may find herself playing happy virtual families, happy adulterous families, or murderous Manson families, the latter behaviour a conversion of life's harsh dealings into random acts of vengeance inside the virtual world. These include having characters fix broken electrical equipment with no prior training, and challenging realistic standards of hygiene.
Fraud's Prescription: Continue practice, you're not missing much.

1 - 2 - Next