来源 ：百伯网 2019-11-15 18:26:23|二中二七个号码多少组
After years of playing with yard-sale toys, my brother and I had finally hit the jackpot: a Nintendo gaming system, set up on our living room television. We wedged in the cartridge, picked up the controllers and set it to two-player mode. The eight-bit music bleeped through its intro, and little Mario began his pixelated sidestep through the booby traps.
This was a turning point in my relationship with my brother. He and I had always been a duo. “I’m Batman and you’re Robin!” he’d announce, rigging our bunk beds into a makeshift Bat Cave.
This new game seemed much harder than saving Gotham. My brother’s character easily zipped through castle after castle, while my Mario died a hundred deaths on the first level. I was ready to swear off this “boy toy,” stomp off to my room and tea party like there was no tomorrow. But as he entered a water world, bobbing along to a carnival tune, I sank back into my seat, mesmerized. I didn’t play, but I didn’t leave. The princess might be on the next screen, and I wanted to help find her.
I watched my brother for a while and then said, “If you just walk along the seafloor, the Bloopers can’t reach you.”
“It worked!” my brother marveled.
In that moment, I was recast as a wingman and problem solver. This new approach led to hours of us gaming together. My brother would assume the controls to countless games, and I would watch, providing help on any puzzles. Our arrangement extended to desktop games, too, like the medieval-themed Ultima and King’s Quest, where my flair for wordplay made me indispensable.
“Something is glinting behind the books,” the game prompted.
“Try ‘move lever,’ ‘push lever,’ ‘pull lever,’” I suggested, listing options in rapid fire.
Eventually, our duo split up. My brother went off to college and the Nintendo was shelved. I graduated from playtime with a sibling to feminism and punk rock, donning Doc Martens and baby doll dresses to see bands like Hole and Bikini Kill.
“Chicks up front!” I’d howl at every punk concert, claiming a spot at the front of the stage.
Inside a churning mosh pit of fellow women, I learned the importance of taking up space, seizing control and standing front and center in a world that constantly deposits girls in the back. But this new perspective made me ashamed of my gaming history. I had mainly been a watcher in gaming, and I worried that my hands-off approach played right into the stereotype of “girlfriend mode” — the dismissive nickname bestowed on the “easy” setting by bro game designers.
On occasion, I would muddle through a game by myself, a racing game here, a boxing match there, but I didn’t enjoy the mania of jamming buttons in rapid progression. It made homework out of playtime. I just wanted to work on digital puzzles with someone to keep me company. So why did it feel as if I was failing womankind?
Postcollege, I remained conflicted, but love made me resume my role as puzzle-solving wingman. I moved in with a serious gamer, and PlayStation loomed large in our relationship. We wandered through the Greek mythology of God of War and the brush stroke paintings of Okami. Happily for me, this new generation of games was loaded with riddles, jigsaws and logic puzzles.
To ease my sheepishness about my sidekick role, I tried to see us as the Bonnie and Clyde of gaming. I told myself we were pulling off heists. And as with any good heist, we each had our specialty: He was the firepower and muscle, I was the safecracker and decoder.
“Look there!” I called out halfway through the haunted hellscape of Silent Hill. “When we rotate the cube, the positions of the doors in the room move! That’s how we find our exit.”
“This is why I love doing this together!” my then-boyfriend beamed. “You’re like having my own personal cheat code.”
Despite our victories, the relationship didn’t last. We were better in a virtual world than in the real one.
After the split, I found a close friend, Dave, to team up with, and we proceeded to play our way through the Resident Evil canon. These were prescribed evenings of cheese pizza, strawberry ice cream and Xbox as we tried to avoid the kill screen — a ghoulish “You Are Dead” splattered in ketchup-red lettering.
Those evenings were fun. But I still felt as if I was using this entertainment in an off-label way that betrayed my feminist values.
One day I asked Dave, “Do you think it’s bad that I never take up the controller?” His answer finally pushed the reset button on my thoughts.
“We’re all spectators in the gaming world,” he said. “That’s how you learn, how you improve, how you win. So you’re not just passively watching, you’re studying. Plus, puzzle solving is at the heart of every game.”
Another thing that flipped my perspective: Dave and I were typically joined on game nights by our significant others. Suddenly I had a gaming crew, fellow spectators and problem solvers. My boyfriend attended with a notebook in hand, madly doodling when we weren’t sketching out the latest mechanical puzzle. I was finally ready to consider myself a legitimate gamer.
“Ready?” Dave asked as he switched on the console, hunching toward the TV.
“Ready!” I answered, picking up pen and paper. “Wait.”
I lifted my chair from the back of the room and scooted it next to the TV, level with his, smiling. “Chicks up front.”
Maria Teresa Hart is a writer and editor currently working on the travel site What to Pack. Her writing has also appeared in the New York Times Smarter Living and Watching sections.
Illustration by Courtney Menard.B:
【而】【沈】【东】【这】【边】，【就】【是】【如】【此】，【丹】【鬼】【告】【诉】【了】【沈】【东】【口】【诀】，【沈】【东】【便】【开】【始】【学】【习】【起】【来】，【许】【久】，【一】【枚】【丹】【药】【成】【功】，【一】【道】【丹】【晕】，【自】【丹】【药】【之】【外】【散】【发】，【让】【人】【震】【惊】。 “【成】【功】【了】！”【丹】【鬼】【看】【着】【丹】【药】，【直】【接】【说】【道】。 【沈】【东】【却】【没】【有】【停】【留】，【看】【着】【丹】【药】，【松】【了】【口】【气】，【直】【接】【检】【查】【了】【一】【遍】，【便】【收】【起】【来】，【感】【受】【着】【四】【周】【的】【药】【香】，【沈】【东】【继】【续】【炼】【制】。 【一】【连】【炼】【了】【九】【枚】，
【陈】【庭】【威】【脸】【上】【露】【出】【淡】【淡】【的】【笑】【意】，【对】【剑】【魔】【说】【道】。 【剑】【魔】【原】【名】【叫】【什】【么】【已】【经】【没】【有】【人】【知】【道】【了】。 【他】【自】【己】【自】【己】【钟】【爱】【剑】，【痴】【情】【于】【剑】，【愿】【意】【为】【剑】【成】【魔】，【所】【以】【他】【给】【自】【己】【取】【名】【为】【剑】【魔】，【以】【剑】【为】【姓】【以】【魔】【为】【名】。 【以】【此】【表】【示】【他】【对】【于】【剑】【道】【的】【痴】【迷】。 【一】【个】【愿】【意】【为】【剑】【成】【魔】【的】【人】【在】【剑】【道】【修】【为】【上】【是】【很】【可】【怕】【的】！ 【剑】【魔】【已】【经】【领】【悟】【剑】【意】，【拥】【有】【剑】【心】，【凝】二中二七个号码多少组【临】【阵】【退】【缩】【的】**【闯】【万】【分】【后】【悔】。【似】【乎】【自】【己】【每】【次】【都】【是】【冲】【动】【到】【顶】【点】，【然】【后】【在】【采】【取】【行】【动】【的】【时】【刻】，【疲】【软】【下】【来】。 **【闯】【恨】【自】【己】【懦】【弱】，【啪】【啪】【地】【打】【了】【自】【己】【两】【个】【耳】【光】。【机】【会】【就】【在】【眼】【前】，【若】【是】【刚】【才】【抓】【住】【了】【机】【会】，【现】【在】【岂】【不】【是】【已】【经】【翻】【身】【了】？【现】【在】【人】【家】【进】【了】【屋】，【关】【了】【门】，【也】【没】【法】【破】【门】【而】【入】【啊】。【而】【且】，【徐】【超】【的】【战】【斗】【力】【不】【可】【小】【觑】，【自】【己】【只】【有】【偷】【袭】【才】【能】
【闫】【欢】【一】【直】【等】【着】【陈】【子】【昂】【一】【起】【去】【甸】【城】，【张】【函】【曾】【经】【找】【过】【她】，【似】【乎】【是】【来】【了】【解】【陈】【子】【寒】【的】。 【她】【心】【里】【有】【些】【纠】【结】。 【她】【想】【提】【前】【过】【去】，【但】【是】【遭】【到】【了】【陈】【子】【悦】【的】【反】【对】 “【子】【昂】【不】【过】【去】，【你】【就】【不】【准】【过】【去】。” “【为】【什】【么】【啊】？” “【当】【初】【同】【意】【你】【去】【甸】【城】【就】【是】【因】【为】【你】【说】【了】【陪】【子】【昂】【一】【起】【过】【去】【的】，【子】【昂】【没】【有】【过】【去】【你】【过】【去】【干】【嘛】。【等】【子】【昂】【一】【起】【过】【去】。
“【总】【算】【摆】【脱】【了】！”【丘】【瑶】【忽】【然】【抓】【紧】【了】【汤】【果】【儿】【的】【手】，【低】【声】【感】【慨】【了】【一】【句】。 “【啊】？”【汤】【果】【儿】【有】【点】【明】【白】，【又】【有】【点】【不】【明】【白】，“【姐】，【有】【人】【跟】【着】【我】【们】？【为】【什】【么】？” “【还】【不】【是】【因】【为】【你】【长】【得】【太】【俊】【了】？”【丘】【瑶】【调】【侃】【了】【汤】【果】【儿】【一】【句】，【然】【后】【立】【刻】【又】【正】【色】【道】，“【他】【们】【边】【境】【附】【近】【肯】【定】【也】【有】【什】【么】【异】【常】【发】【生】，【所】【以】【聚】【集】【了】【不】【少】【能】【人】【异】【士】，【他】【们】【个】【个】【精】【明】
【最】【后】【在】【大】【衣】【柜】【里】【看】【到】【两】【个】【人】【互】【相】【依】【偎】【着】【睡】【着】【了】。 【一】【幕】【幕】【在】【眼】【前】【交】【替】【出】【现】，【过】【往】【如】【流】【水】【般】【都】【从】【记】【忆】【中】【涌】【出】【来】。 【如】【今】，【桂】【花】【依】【旧】【开】，【满】【院】【子】【的】【香】【气】，【只】【是】【物】【是】【人】【非】【了】。 【自】【从】【沈】【逸】【寒】【的】【母】【亲】【去】【世】，【沈】【道】【儒】【娶】【了】【罗】【钰】【琳】【之】【后】，【沈】【逸】【寒】【就】【变】【了】。 【那】【年】【沈】【逸】【寒】【十】【岁】，【就】【像】【是】【一】【夜】【之】【间】【就】【长】【大】【了】【一】【样】。 【他】【再】【也】【不】【爱】