In a perfect world, many things would be better. Mondays would be smooth, weekends would last longer and the birds singing in the morning while you crawl back from the pub would tell you where the heck you left your front door keys. A perfect world would be, well, perfect.
Seeing how it would be perfect, we would also not have different consoles in this gaming utopia. All the giants of industry would have banded together to create the perfect console, a divine machine capable of a million things. You could play games however you want to play them: alone, with friends on your couch, online with strangers, while you stream your gameplay, while the NSA records your body temperature et cetera. Everything about this imaginary messiah of gaming would be perfect, and there would be no debate about it.
In this dream of a world, companies would not screw their customers and give them what they want: good games. It’s so simple, yet it seems so hard to grasp. We do not want all these fancy doohickeys and gizmos. We don’t need extra functionality or bombastic graphics. All we want is a piece of art, in which every stroke contributes to the total beauty of the creation. If something does not support the game’s fun and engaging gameplay, it is simply left out in this oh so perfect world.
This perfect world would know games that are only published when they are ready to be published, leaving money-hungry sharks out of the equation. Developers would be treated like the artists they are, and their paintings would not be put up for auction before the last highlight has been placed. Games would not be something you consume and then throw away; they would be tales we look back to when we are in the mood for nostalgia, and a warm feeling would rise in our bellies every time we do.
In a perfect world, this post would not be necessary.