In the 1980s there was a line of video games centered on a character named Leisure Suit Larry, a balding, 40-something loser clad entirely head-to-toe with synthetic fibers.
The Leisure Suit Larry games represented a noble departure from the typical shoot ‘em up fare of most video games, which tended to require no more creativity than blasting pixilated aliens to smithereens. These games, on the other hand, offered a challenge infinitely more complex: Using his (and I mean “his”) creativity, the player negotiated Larry through a world of beautiful women armed with frustratingly good taste.
I’d argue that video games work, in part, as metaphors for the, uh, romantic ambitions of certain types of adolescent boy—a way of directing the excess drive bestowed upon pathetic teenage boys towards something more tractable than live female girls. It was encouraging that, with his bald spot and cheesy manner, Larry was the one creature in the universe less likely than a gawky teen boy to find romantic bliss.
(Ironically, I became familiar with the game while watching John, my sister’s future husband—and future ex-husband—play it for hour on end. It seemed to set the stage for him to become twenty years later a balding, 40-something loser on the prowl.)
As a grown man, I can’t help but think with utter amusement (and contempt) about the Leisure Suit Larry archetype, a relic from the Disco-and-sexual-liberation-movement 1970s utterly adrift in our more judicious times.
Like many horrible cultural trends of the 70s, the leisure suit phenomenon was a reminder that freedom isn’t free—but can be ridiculously cheap. As the anarchist tendencies of the late 60s counterculture morphed into a corporate repackaging of the ideal of liberation, it became easy in the 70s to “do your own thing” at an entirely hedonistic level.
The Leisure Suit phenomenon was what happens when the idea of “liberation” detaches from the idea of political awareness: In the end, you’re left with a bunch of synthetic fibers and gold chains—and a boundless, unsatisfiable libido.
I vividly remember these games and how I was not allowed to have them. Though as an 8 or 9 year old girl with an Apple II C computer, I'm not quite sure why I wanted them to begin with.
ReplyDelete"and a boundless, unsatisfiable libido." A cultural libido, if you will, for all things material and all the freedom they promise seems to have culminated (I hope) this year with the economic crisis and perhaps is at an end?
Jenn-- I doubt that our desire to buy lots of crap is going to be so easily squelched. But I do think this is a chance to undo a lot of bad ideas that have crept into the culture during the past 30 years.
ReplyDeleteCool graphic- I found your point about the counterculture being repackaged into a corporate product for sale interesting. I think that whenever something has a certain level of energy/power, whether it is a movement, ideology, music, etc., it becomes noticed and then people try to use it for their own purposes and or to make money. I remember a time when rock musicians prided themselves on not selling out to advertisers. Now you hardly ever see a commercial on TV that does not use a rock song or rift.
ReplyDeleteKemuel, I actually care less about rock musicians selling out than ever before. When people complained to Stephen Stills about him selling the rights to "Our House" to use in a light bulb commercial, he said, "It's not like this is Beethoven." It's really only when the commercialism effects the product-- for instance: When bands that pride themselves on subtlety do arena tours. That's why I like the fact that Bob Dylan plays in minor league ball parks. In that case, the venue fits the spirit of the music.
ReplyDelete"Leisure Suit Larry: In the Land of the Lounge Lizards." Look at all of that alliteration!
ReplyDeleteThe Leisure Suit Larry games are still being made today. I remember my sister giving one to her husband (also now ex-) for Christmas a few years ago, I think for xbox. I guess it's a warning to all women: Don't marry a man who plays Leisure Suit Larry!
ReplyDeleteNicole: It does have the ring of poetry, doesn't it?
ReplyDeleteMs. Proofreader-- Or buying the game could be a great way to get rid of a husband!
ReplyDeleteX-husband, X =Box? Is there a relationship here? Back to Kemuel's point. Marketers ultimately steal everything from the counterculture. Look at what's happening to "Green." Good to make it popular; not good to make it commercial. Or is it commercial that makes popular?
ReplyDeleteTrina, this is actually the main idea of this blog-- if I can ever get around to it-- this question of whether the good of the 60s was co-opted out of existence, or if the whole thing was just plain bad to begin with...
ReplyDelete