Games. I've been playing games for a long time. I remember when the Bard's Tale first came out. I contended with the Curse of the Azure Bonds, and walked every step of being the Last Ninja.
I played Pac Man and River Raid on the Atari. I stole cups from dragons that looked like ducks. I kicked my brother's arse over and over in Combat. I remember annoying the kid next door to play every iteration of Mario. I abused all the bugs in Taipan.
I stayed up all night to complete Super Metroid in three hours. I know all the secrets in Doom, and played it deathmatch against my friends on the highschool network while we were supposed to be working on our final assignments.
Don't tell me what a good game is and isn't. I know. I've been there from the beginning. I might not be as good at games as you, or have as much spare time to commit as you. But I was there when Jumpman made his first jump. I know what an R-Type is. I bought a goldbox game off the shelf. I think Head-over-Heels is due for a remake, and world war II movies remind me of a game called 'the great escape'.
Games for me aren't a fad. They aren't a toy. They are a world and a system of language to be explored and understood. They are a catalogue of shared experience, of seemingly irrational standards and conventions, of insanity and genius. As sad as it may seem they are my life. I can't take back the time that games have given me, and I wouldn't want to. Marketing be damned: computer games kick arse and they always will as long as there are people involved in thier creation who have been there as long as I have.