SPOILER ALERT: If you intend to play GTA IV and don't want to know plot devices of the game, stop reading now and go watch Sabrina: The Teenage Witch or something.

    Ever since the third game in the Grand Theft Auto series was released, various people have commented on how the game is a bad influence on children.  Having recently beat the game myself, I figured I would take the effort to show the positive aspects of the latest GTA game, Grand Theft Auto IV.

    GTA IV teaches kids about immigration:  While Dora the Explora has served to instill some culture values in today's youth, it comes no where close to the lessons learned from the game's main character, Niko Bellic.  Bellic, a recent arrival from Yugoslavia, finds his new home in Liberty City, USA to be a strange place.  He has trouble fitting in, whether it be wearing the wrong clothing or communicating with the natives.  Bellic is running away from his past and attempting a new life in America.  He wants to be part of the American dream, but sadly, experiences more of the American nightmare.  He is discriminated against and must accomplish his goals with little help.  I think if GTA IV had come out 20 years ago, there'd be no Minutemen or plans for border walls.  Instead, adults would understand the struggles of immigrants and be less apt to claim they're stealing our jobs or trying to trick us into becoming bilingual. 
    GTA IV teaches family values:  Prior to his arrival in Liberty City, Bellic's cousin Roman has established a living running a cab company.  Niko loves his cousin, and despite Roman's gambling problem, will do anything to help his kin.  Roman also loves his cousin Niko and gives him free cab rides whenever needed.  This shows the importance of blood ties to kids and how a family working together can help build nothing into something.  It's just like Swiss Family Robinson, only with Russian mobsters and Jamaican weed dealers.  Additionally, Niko keeps in contact with his mother through e-mail, which shows the importance of parents in a young man's life, just like Exodus 20:12.
    GTA IV teaches the importance of friendship:  Niko meets many people during his stay in Liberty City.  When these associations are cultivated, his new friends will offer Niko various services.  The lesson learned here is that being nice to people can result in generosity in others, such as free helicopter rides or cheap AK-47 purchases.  Also, Niko promotes diversity in friendship, as his pals come from various races and walks of life.  Niko Bellic is not a racist and your kids shouldn't be either.
    GTA IV is anti-drug:  While one character smokes copious amounts of pot and another routinely injects steroids, Niko does not partake in drug use.  On numerous occasions, Niko is offered cocaine and weed, yet always abstains.  If that's not living up to Nancy Reagan's "Just Say No" campaign, I don't know what is.  Furthermore, Niko interacts with many junkies who later exclaim how they've cleaned up their lives.  Further still, Niko and his cousin criticize those who choose to use drugs.
    GTA IV is anti-drunk driving:  Most of the press about the game involved MADD's disapproval of a drunk driving simulation that results when Niko parties a bit too hard.  MADD seemingly ignored, however, that the game doesn't promote drunk driving at all.  When you drunk drive in the game, as in real life, the police will arrest you.  When the police arrest you, you go to jail.  That's pretty simple, I think.  Way more affective than Stevie Wonder saying he's rather drive than let a drunk person drive, plus, it doesn't rely on making fun of the blind to get the message across.
    GTA IV reminds you to wear a seat belt:  Whenever Niko crashes a "borrowed" car at high speeds, he will fly through the front windshield and unto the street.  This knocks his health down quite a bit and can sometimes result in a trip to the hospital.  Niko apparently doesn't understand the concept of using seat belts; I assume he doesn't even know what they are.  Maybe, in Soviet Russia, seat belt wears you.  Regardless ... kids, don't be like Niko: wear a seat belt.
    GTA IV shows the importance of decision making:  Many times, Niko is forced to make decisions.  Should he kill the smart-mouthed successful drug dealer or the slightly annoying ex-con?  Should he off the corrupt future police commissioner or the friendly junkie?  Each decision he makes leads to different results.  While killing the ex-con would make Niko a lot of money, killing the drug dealer results in a longterm friendship and new apartment.  This shows kids the consequences of bad decisions.  Should I huff paint or read Moby Dick?  While Herman Melville spends a long and very boring chapter describing a dead whale tied to the side of a ship, huffing paint destroys your brain.  Contemplating decisions is a big step in becoming an adult, and the kids could learn a lesson or two from Mr. Bellic.
    GTA IV shows that crime doesn't pay:  If Niko chooses a life of revenge, his girlfriend is ultimately murdered and, even after killing those who killed his love, he does not feel better about himself.  If Niko decides against revenge, his dealings with the Mafia don't better him much either.  The main point is that, while the quick money and police chases may be fun, at the end of the day you're still unhappy.  If Niko had gone to college and gotten a degree in sociology or something, he'd at least have a job at Starbucks to look forward to.

    In conclusion, before you pass judgment on Niko Bellic, walk a mile in his shoes (you can even buy his shoes for him).  Behind all the hookers and mass murder are many life lessons.  And really, isn't the Bible the same way (case in point: Mary Magdalene and the estimated 30 million people God offs).  Next time you sit down with your kids, instead of asking about their day or making them a Hot Pocket, pop in GTA IV.  You'll probably learn something from Liberty City.
    I know I did. 
   
    (Author's Note: I didn't proofread this at all, so if there are a million errors in it, my apologies.  Sadly, Niko Bellic taught me nothing about proofreading.)

    I was never one of those people that thought Austria was a country inundated with kangaroos, Vegemite or really big knives.  I was able to tell Australia and Austria apart rather easily from a very young age, but only based on knowing that for which Australia was famous.  Until recently, I had no idea what set apart Austria from any other nation.
    The only two things I knew came from Austria were bad.  The most obvious being this failed painter who happened to be born there in 1889.  His painting career never really took off, but he managed to find things that occupied his time between 1933-1945.  I honestly can't remember the dude's name at the moment ... what was it ...  It's seriously on the tip of my tongue.  I know he had a dog named Blondi and was a huge fan of Hugo Boss.  Oh well, it will come to me later.  Either way, I do remember that he was really really bad.
    The only other exposure I had to Austria was Dr. Elsa Schneider from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.  While she was attractive, she turned out to be working with the bad guys and eventually fell in a hole.
    So for at least 24 years of my life, I had no clue about what was shaking in the streets of Austria.  Coincidently, neither did Elisabeth Fritzl.
    In the event you've been underground for the past month (too soon?), it was revealed a few weeks back that an old Austrian man had kept his daughter in an underground dungeon for 24 years after faking her kidnapping.  A terrible story, indeed.  Poor Elisabeth was not only keep underground, but raped repeatedly by her kidnapper father, resulting in seven births.  I won't go further into the details, because most of us know the story by now.  So why bring it up?
    Apparently, there was another sex dungeon case in 2006.  That's not the weird part, though.  It was announced yesterday that the 2006 sex dungeon kidnap victim is going to have her own talk show.
    Seriously.  I'm not kidding at all.
    Natascha Kampusch was kidnapped in 1998 and held in underground sex dungeon in Austria for eight and a half years.  Evidently, to capitalize on the resurgence in Austrian sex dungeon popularity, she's been given a talk show.  Not a special about her ordeal or an interview.  A talk show.  Like Regis and Kelly, but with a rape victim.
    On her show, she's going to interview famous Austrians, I guess in some effort to repair the country's image, as 64% of Austrians believe their homeland's image has been tarnished by the sex dungeon case (the new one, not the old one).
    In the event you don't believe any of what I've said, look it up.  England's always wonderful The Sun has the best headline thus far: "Telly Chat For Cellar Nat."
    My main curiosity, besides wondering who pitched that concept for a talk show, is how anyone could ever complain as a guest on Kampusch's show.  According to one story I read, her first guest on the June 1 premiere is ex-Formula One racer Niki Lauda.  How awkward would that interview be:

    "So, you run an airline, Mr. Lauda, that must be hard ...."

          "Yes, it is difficult, being in charge of a company, especially an airline."
   
    "Yeah ... I bet that's hard ... you know, I was kept in an underground sex dungeon for eight and a half years.  Got raped quite a bit, actually."

          "Uhhh ... well, running an airline is a lot ... ummm ... nevermind."

    Maybe if Simon Wiesenthal was alive, she might have some competition with a fellow Austrian about life struggles.  Other than that, every Austrian guest she has better be really nice to her and not complain about anything.
    Unless, of course, she gets an interview with Elisabeth Fritzl.  Eight and a half years versus 24 years, not to mention, the assailant is your father...
    On second thought, screw this entire blog, I have to make a call to Austria ... I have a great idea for a new talk show ...

    While trying to figure out the difference between incidental and intended third party beneficiaries, I heard a remarkably loud noise.  At first I assumed my upstairs neighbor had just drunkenly stumbled into his apartment.  I understand that feeling, where you simply want to fall down as soon as you're back to the safety of home.  Something about intoxication creates that desire in a person.  Nothing feels better than knowing you'll wake up in the floor of a familiar setting the next day instead of a Taco Cabana bathroom.  You usually only have enough energy, if you've done the job properly before "last call," to walk about three steps into your apartment before collapsing.
    Then I heard another loud bang.  Once again, I dismissed the noise, assuming maybe he got up for a second, then remembered that walking is very hard.  A few people occasionally believe they still possess the abilities that sober people take for granted, then quickly surrender to the obvious.
    On hearing the third bang, I decided to investigate.  It was slowly becoming obvious that the noises were not coming from my upstairs neighbor, but from the apartment next to mine.  Under the guise of having a casual smoke, I stepped outside.
    Apparently my apartment is slightly soundproof, as I immediately heard various expletives being hurled back and forth.  What I thought were the simple sounds of frustrated inebriation were in fact a full-fledged domestic dispute.
    Party A was an angry female, clad only in a floral print bathrobe.  Party B was an equally angry male wearing, to be expected, a white "wife beater" and black pants.  The two seemed to be in disagreement over Party B's desire to take the car somewhere.  Evidently, the car belonged to Party A, yet Party B decided he wanted to drive it.  Party A did not want Party B driving and would not give up the keys.  Party B desperately wanted those keys.
    It was when the physical struggle began that I became concerned about how I should react.  I'm well aware that, legally, I have no duty to do anything.  At this point in my educational career, I've read various stories about the bystander effect, or Genovese Syndrome.  Genovese Syndrome was aptly titled after a famous feline-named female by the name of Kitty Genovese.  Not to be confused with other famous Kittys throughout history (Anne Frank's "Dear Kitty," Hello Kitty, Kitty Wells, etc.), Genovese is famous for the circumstances of her murder.
    Kitty was raped, robbed and repeatedly stabbed while some of her neighbors supposedly looked on.  The sexual assault and murder took place over a period of half an hour, with the assailant at one point leaving.  He later returned (supposedly having put on a hat in the meantime) and finished the job.  The original news report stated that 38 people did nothing, however that figure has since been revised to less than a dozen.
    As I watched these two strangers struggle over car keys, I pondered what I should do as a semi-concerned citizen.  It was during that thought process that I wondered if I was an awful person.
    Option #1 was to attempt to stop the situation myself.  I quickly nixed that idea, realizing that both Party A and Party B were sizable people.  I'm no coward, but it's pretty bad when you'd lose a fight to the woman involved as fast as you would to the man.
    Option #2 was to yell something at the two.  Not words of encouragement, obviously, but something like "Hey, stop what you're doing" or "It's 1 in the morning, cut it out" or even "I hear you can customize your Grand Slam at Denny's now, we should all go there together."  I nixed this idea as well, as Option #2 would inadvertently lead to Option #1.
    Option #3 was to call the police.  This is the option I pondered the longest, as it was the option which affected me most.  Clearly, I would have to go back into my apartment if I wanted to call the cops, which would involve me opening and closing my sliding door.  At this point, neither party realized I was watching, yet they would be alerted to my presence when they heard the noise.  This would result in probably my own tragic demise, as the winner of the fight would probably want to murder all witnesses as well.
    Then I began to think even more selfishly.  If I call the cops and they show up, I have to talk to the cops.  This requires me giving a statement.  If Party B actually kills Party A, I might have to go to the police station.  Then I'd have to testify at a trial.  Then I might have to testify at the sentencing phase of the trial too.  This moment in time could result in a lot of added grief to my already busy schedule.
    I started thinking about those neighbors of Genovese again.  Did all of those people do the same thing I was presently doing?  Did they weigh the pros and cons of getting involved?  I couldn't just stand there and watch these people duke it out.  I had to do something proactive.
    I decided to go to the Denny's across the street.  I walked right by the two, who at this point had stopped fighting, and to my vehicle.  I even said "Who's up for Denny's?" in a rather cheerful tone as I walked by.  I had gone with secret Option #4, which combined aspects of Option #2 with the fact that I was rather hungry at that particular time.
    As I type this on my laptop following a deliciously personalized Grand Slam, the two people I previously saw fighting have just walked into the same Denny's as me.  They seem to be over their scuffle, no longer wearing robes and wifebeaters.  They're even holding hands.  So in my own remarkably retarded way, I managed to defuse a domestic dispute.  Or society's love of Denny's did.  Either way, one question remains:
    Who ended up driving?