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ANIMATION WORLD MAGAZINE - ISSUE 5.9 - DECEMBER 2000
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This Is Not Your Father's LBE Vary Your VR Please There is more at stake here than profits. As VR undergoes refinements, lifelike experiences featuring blood, destruction and stupendous ninja cleavage may come under increasing scrutiny. In Indianapolis, Mayor Bart Peterson made national headlines this year by proposing a "violent video game" ordinance that forbade anyone under the age of seventeen to play anything more combative than race car simulations. Games featuring graphic violence and/or sexual content were to be plastered with warning labels and kept a minimum of ten feet away from nonviolent games, and any arcade owner not enforcing this ordinance could face loss of license. On July 11, the City Council passed this ordinance by the unanimous margin of 27-0. The 7th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals has issued a temporary stay on behalf of the coin-operated industry until an injunction hearing can be held, but the writing may be on the WoW if VR arcades feature too high a proportion of virtual violence or raunchy reality. States more conservative than Indiana (and there are a few) may harass VR-LBE arcades with even more stringent legislation unless the content diversifies considerably.
VR Without A Shot Boy Band Interactive: Who has more disposable income than pre-teen girls? This lucrative market can be tapped with Boy Band Interactive, a VR experience guaranteed to keep their excitable heads glued into HMDs. Our participant can choose from a list of the hottest boy bands extant for the immersive experience of a lifetime (or at least that summer). The participant finds herself in the front row of, say, an N'Sync concert where she watches a three-minute performance of one of the band's songs. Following this she is motioned on to the stage by the member she deems to be the cutest. She is taken backstage for another twelve minutes of personalized banalities and platitudes from the band, and the immersive experience ends when a stagehand alerts the boys that it's time for an encore. The band files out and the aforementioned cutest member plants a chaste kiss on the participant's cheek, promising to return in just a moment. Fifteen minutes for fifteen bucks -- no more expensive than purchasing the CD, and twice the fun! Virtual Rodeo Drive: For the proletariat who only sees haute couture and pricey celebwear in the tabloid spreads or pages of People, I present -- Virtual Rodeo Drive. It's the grand dame of all shopping trips as participants drop in at La Perla for lingerie, purchase a few baubles for the homestead at MacKenzie-Childs and find the perfect handbag at Hermès. After the man of the house drops in at Louis Vuitton and Lacoste, he'll never wear that Dale Earnhardt ballcap again! Instead of haughty, 87-pound salesgirls who regard ordinary customers with facial expressions reserved for ripe roadkill, our customers encounter derriere-smooching toadies who fetch molto elegante fashions on the double. Every few minutes some sim-celebrity (like Heather Locklear) strolls by to comment approvingly on the participant's taste and style. The immersive experience ends at the doors of Ginza Sushi-Ko, where the meal is on the house. An unforgettable shopping experience, and cheaper than a pair of socks at Bijan! Virtually Perfect Family: Now anyone can thrive in a healthy family system without a drop of dysfunction to be found. When you plunk down your cash for Virtually Perfect Family, things -- and people -- turn out just the way you dreamed they would. As Virtual Dad, you come home to big hugs and warm smiles. Suzie can't wait to show off her report card, and Tommy confides his easily-solved problems to you, the man he admires more than Ken Griffey Jr. After a great dinner filled with family conversation, the kids are in bed and it's Monday Night Football...your wife coyly beckons from the boudoir. Is that a lacy red negligee she's wearing? As Virtual Mom, you're in a hurry; it's graduation night and you're receiving your Masters in Public Health Administration! It was a great idea to return to school and as you dress, hubby comes in to tell you how proud he is. He's been so supportive, quitting his consulting job to help you achieve your dreams. You watch and smile as he tells Tommy that it's OK to cry at the graduation and then advises Suzie to look up to you as an example of what beauty, brains and education can achieve. Is that a poorly concealed jewelry box in his suit pocket -- a special gift for your special night? This immersive VR experience includes a two-minute sim-graduation exercise in which you strut across a stage like the magna cum laude you are. I know. They're not as much fun as blasting robots or dropping smart bombs down Saddam's chimney, but similar experiences might someday be in demand for those who can afford home VR theaters. As we consider a future where the technology of virtual reality could be the defining force in entertainment, VR-LBE just might offer all games to all people, and the arcades may never close. In a dark corner of Jake's Roll 'N Bowl sits a once-popular video game. Its screen is streaked with hazy dust, the joystick bent and askew. A thick black plug rests forlornly on the carpet, its bronze prongs darkened by age. Despite its long-faded colors the word Centipede can still be read along the console's chipped and battered sides. No kid has touched the game in years; that was dad's thing. Today his children are down at the VR-Cade, walking on Mars. This is definitely not their father's LBE. Martin "Dr. Toon" Goodman is a longtime student and fan of animation. He lives in Anderson, Indiana.
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