Guilty Pleasures: Halo 3

In order to become a man, there are a few things you have to give up. The Bible says something like "leave behind your mother and family and become one with a wife," or whatever. That seems reasonable enough. But one important thing they seemed to have skimmed over is the rule about giving up on your fantasies of being a cyborg soldier that drives space jeeps and throws grenades at alien monsters. I'm talking about the XBOX 360 game Halo of course, the third installment of which has been taking up all the excess space in my brain lately that's usually reserved for an endless loop of Patriots and Angelina Jolie highlights. Halo, you may have heard, is a somewhat popular franchise. The new game had sales of $300 million in it's first week of release alone. I'm not saying there's a direct correlation here, (ok, I am) but is it any wonder then that so many adult males are walking around dressed like teenagers, shirking real world responsibility, trapped in a Peter Pan syndrome of perpetual adolescence and gaming? I haven't gotten the 360 system yet myself, because unlike actual teenagers, I don't have thousands of dollars of disposable income on hand at all times. But I need it. Now. Although, newsflash fellas: in order to ever have any chance of following through on the first piece of advice -- you know, finding a woman who'll take you -- it really might help to put down the wireless controller. Most of the ladies I know don't enjoy watching their man spend hours shooting imaginary sniper rifles at their friends on a forest moon base. But they probably just don't know what they're missing.

Originally published in the Boston Globe.