Voyeuristic Sadism and Donorcycles

One of the benefits of my conversion from Crackberry addict to iPhone freak is the bounty of games I have at my disposal. No longer shackled to burn time with awful games such as "Brickbreaker" and :"Bubble Trouble", being on the iOS platform has enabled me to tap into games that are far advanced in terms of control, game play and graphics.

The latest iPhone game that has grabbed my attention is called "Highway Rider" in which you control a motorcycle rider and you speed past cars on a highway. Have you ever driven at a highway and cursed under your breath at maniacs on motorcycles which speed past cars stuck in traffic (or at least moving slower than the motorcycle) which barely miss your side view mirror? You know, the one that leaves you with one or a combination of the following reactions:

• "Idiot. Next time I swear I'm going to swing my door open when I see him coming and splatter him all over the road."
• "Wow. I wish that was me."

So in the game, you get to be that person. You control your motorcycle rider and you earn points with "close calls" passing cars or trucks. Yes, that's right: you actually get rewarded for driving unsafely enough that you barely miss vehicles without actually becoming road kill. Each "close call" bumps your speed up slightly and before soon, you're going 160 mph and slaloming vehicles like a downhill skier on methamphetamine.

The game ends when you get into an accident, either by hitting a car, truck or roadside barrier or sign which then propels you into the air while your flail and tumble helplessly onto the pavement (occasionally hitting another object and/or getting run over by a vehicle in the process). The driver groans and makes a funny comment along the lines of "Does anyone know the number for 9-1-1?" or "Are my arms supposed to go this way?" or "Oh... I can't feel my legs." Well, the last one isn't really funny, I suppose.

You then proceed to get an itemized list of the rider's injuries and a total medical bill tab. Whether you're supposed to aim for a high or low medical bill, I have no idea. All I know is that the game can't be at all the accurate because there are clearly some accidents I've created in this game that Superman wouldn't have survived. There's a reason why they call these things "donorcycles".

Naturally, you have the opportunity to play again, and the screen depicts a bandaged up motorcycle rider walking past the gaze of a disapproving nurse and defiantly saying, "Nothing can keep me from riding, doll!" or "Let's do this!"

Here's the thing, though - I actually like this game a lot, and for a while, I would laugh hysterically when my rider would fly through the air and splatter himself against a truck or road sign. Does that make me a sick or sadistic individual? Is this part of the same DNA of our culture which also enjoys hard concussing-causing hits in football and bone-rattling body checks in hockey? And it's not just me, there's a reason why millions of people buy DVD's of these sort of things. And unlike cartoonish iPhone games, these videos depict people who will live with post-concussion symptoms and other medical complications for the rest of their lives. Maybe it's part of the gladiator culture that has never truly gone away in the thousands of years of cultural evolution and sophistication.

My kids watch me play this and they find it hilarious, too. In truth, this game has also enabled me to break into a serious educational conversation around the dangers of motorcycles with my kids. But it's clear that the kids find me crashing and the motorcycle moaning and making some quip utterly hilarious. It's sort of funny to see my four year old daughter cackle in glee and repeat the injured rider's lament, "Unngh... my bones feel like jelly."

Trying to be the responsible dad and all, I'm wondering if I should either junk the game or begin every session of my kids watching me play this game with a warning about the hazards of motorcycle riding. Or maybe I should just show walk them through this webpage about a real motorcycle accident in Hungary (warning: very graphic photos). My mother to this day forbade and forbids me to own two legal things: a gun and a motorcycle. I'm thinking that bit of wisdom might get passed down.