In a move that has left the nation's sofa-bound commandos spluttering into their energy drinks, the Ministry of Defence has formally condemned the latest Call of Duty installment for its 'unflinching glorification of North Korean aggression.' Yes, dear reader, you heard it here first. The very same government that once spent £70 million on a redundant aircraft carrier is now policing the moral compass of a video game where you can dual-wield rocket launchers while drop-kicking a badger.
The official statement, penned on what I can only assume is the most damp and dreary letterhead in Whitehall, warns that the game 'risks normalising the Kim dynasty's belligerent posturing.' Good Lord. As if the man with the unfortunate haircut and a penchant for missile parades needs any help from a digital asset flogged for 59 quid at GAME. The real belligerent posturing, I'd argue, is from the self-same MPs who gleefully signed off on Trident renewal but draw the line at a virtual skirmish on a fictional representation of Pyongyang.
Let's pause here for a reality check. This is a video game. A series so steeped in jingoistic fervour that it once made you shoot up an airport in a Russian terror attack. And nobody batted an eye. But now, because the baddies are wearing a vaguely Korean-style uniform, the chattering classes have soiled their tweed. The horror. The sheer, unadulterated horror.
Of course, the gaming community has responded with the predictable blend of sarcasm and fury. Forums are alight with comments like 'Next they'll ban Monopoly for glorifying property speculation' and 'I'm off to join the North Korean army, thanks to Call of Duty.' One wag even suggested that the MOD should instead investigate the glorification of trench foot in Battlefield 1, but that's obviously too sensible.
But let us drill down to the marrow of this absurdity. The government is worried that impressionable youths will be radicalised by a game that features a level literally called 'Blow Up the Bad Guys.' I've got news for you, Whitehall. If young Johnny is poised to defect to the Worker's Party because he found a fun way to unlock a new scope, then the problem is not the game. The problem is that he's probably been left alone for too long with nothing but a packet of crisps and a misplaced sense of geopolitical grievance.
And what of the developers? They've issued a statement that reads like a hostage note. 'Call of Duty is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.' Which is ironic, because the game's plot is clearly derivative of a 1980s action film where the hero single-handedly defeats an entire authoritarian regime with a quip and a grenade launcher. That's not realism, it's nostalgia.
So to the Ministry of Defence, I say this: If you want to tackle real aggression, maybe start with the actual geopolitical tensions that see real North Koreans suffering. Or, if you must, worry about the subliminal message of the 57th iteration of a game that has been making people shoot at each other since the turn of the millennium. But for the love of all that is holy, stop pretending that pixels are the new precursor to war.
In the end, this is just another skirmish in the eternal war between the fun-hating bureaucrats and the rest of us who just want to blow off some steam. And if that means I'm complicit in a new Cold War, then sign me up. I've got my tea, my twitchy trigger finger, and a burning contempt for the low-resolution spectre of oppression. Now where's my gin?
