Loading up GTA3 for the first time since moving house and finding that the last time I’d saved the game was 11th April was quite depressing, readers, I can tell you. As I’m sure has become obvious if you’ve read any of my previous posts about this game, I absolutely love it. And going back to it after 8 months was both really comforting, like seeing an old friend after years of not being in contact and clicking instantly as soon as you meet, and incredibly daunting, as I own probably hundreds of video games, many of which I’ve never actually played, and if it’s taking me this long to play just one, how long is it going to take me to play them all? But anyway, I’m getting off topic. I’m here to talk about Grand Theft Auto III, and how it encapsulates the lie at the heart of consumer capitalism. Aha! No! Too late to stop reading now! I have you in my web.
To be perfectly honest, I didn’t think I’d be posting anything related to GTA 3 again for a while. It wasn’t that I wasn’t enjoying playing it, or that you kind souls weren’t enjoying my articles (they’re easily the most popular on here. By, like, a mile), it was just this one mission, y’know? One mission that was absolutely killing me. Let’s have a chat about it, shall we?
Continuing our ‘strange things happening in Grand Theft Auto 3’ theme from a few weeks ago, let me recount an event which gave me cause to stop playing for a moment and have a bit of a think. Not forgetting to pick up my iPod Touch and take a couple of photographs, of course.
I’ve recently started replaying Grand Theft Auto 3. Actually, ‘replaying’ suggests both that I’ve completed it before, which I haven’t, and that I’ve played more recent games in the series extensively, which, again, I haven’t. But then “I’ve recently started playing Grand Theft Auto 3” suggests I’m about (christ) 13 years behind the videogame curve, which is not true. I am at most 5 or 6 years behind.
Anyway, yeah. I’ve started Grand Theft Auto 3. It’s wonderful, obviously. Despite lots of pop-up and a targeting system that seems to want me to kill fleeing pedestrians rather than the rival gang members trying to shoot me with their guns, I’m having a great deal of fun, not least because of the large number of strange, inexplicable things that I’ve witnessed on my travels. Allow me to paint a picture with my words.