As you may not have been able to guess, I’ve recently had the pleasure of playing Dragon Age, a game that deftly mimicks a 12 year old boy’s red crayoned picture of what “cool” violence looks like. Seriously, it’s like my character drunkenly stumbled into a Seven Eleven and got into a slapfight with the cherry slurpee machine; it’s completely at odds with the beige-landscaped, “this is my serious face” intention of the game.

Maybe I’m just not grown up enough to understand the requirements of mature gamers.