> Roger Ebert loves his video games

I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, that one of the single funniest pieces of art to come along over the last 15 years is a videogame. This may sound strange to some. No one would ever laugh at “Tetris”. Let me rephrase that: no one without copious amounts of narcotics in their system would laugh at “Tetris.”

Every medium has a source of tension that keeps audiences breathless in anticipation for what’s going to happen next.

Alfred Hitchcock perfected the art of anxiety by manipulation of the audience’s knowledge, the uncomfortable nature of voyeurism and his mastery of all things sound. The shower scene in “Psycho” is a perfect, albeit overused, example of tension at its finest.

When you come across someone who has a slack-jawed look on their face, it usually means one of three things:

A) They suffer from severe nasal congestion and would asphyxiate without an open mouth,

As this series regarding emotions elicited by video games continues to roll along, it’s about time that we get to the most primal of all feelings that anyone can display. No, this week is not revolving around the overall feeling of queasiness that so many of us have to endure on most Friday, Saturday and Sunday mornings.

Better yet, the topic of discussion is centering on fear and all of the fun effects that go along with it.

The ‘80s are a decade known for the birth of three things: crack-cocaine, Nintendo and greed. This week, we’re going to focus on the final two items in that list.

In “Wall Street,” Gordon Gekko told audiences that, “Greed, for lack of a better word, is good.” Oliver Stone is a director who loves to deal with the theme of greed and how it can create and destroy and identity.

I am completely serious when I say that all you’ll ever need to know about relationships can be gained from the three interludes of “Ms. Pac-Man.”

The bond between Mr. and Ms. Pac-Man is as strong as any in film or literature. Like Han and Leia, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, or Bono and his gigantic ego, the two chomping circles epitomize the beauty of true love.

If the argument can be made that video games are as dense an art form as film, then one also has to accept the fact that they both share similar peaks, as well as similar valleys.

For every “Legend of Zelda,” there’s a “Superman 64.” For every “Half-Life,” there’s a “Daikatana” (brownie points to anyone who remembers that catastrophe of a game).

I’m not going to lie- I enjoy being befuddled.

I consider a piece of art to be a great success if I can leave a theater or close a book confused, but anxious to understand what I have just experienced.

No one will argue that music can make a film. I can’t count the number of times I’ve walked out of a theater and stopped thinking about the movie immediately, only to find myself humming part of the score on the drive home.

A movie’s theme can become as iconic as the film itself. Themes for flicks like “The Godfather,” “Star Wars” and “Psycho” are instantly recognizable to even the most novice of film-buffs.

It’s easy for the uninformed to pass judgment. A sheltered life of ignorance always seems to provide the inexperienced with enough bias to form an unintelligent opinion.

Would it be fair for one to call film a simplistic medium without having seen “Citizen Kane,” “The Godfather” or “Gone With the Wind?”

Throughout the course of my weekly rants, I may have come across as a man who has no love for the art of cinema. For any of you who think this, let me assure you: I absolutely love any and all things having to do with film.

I’m the kind of guy who will gladly spend a Saturday watching all three “Godfathers,” all six “Star Wars,” or the epic “Ernest” decology. Likewise, as passionate as I am about the art of film, I hold video games in just as high of a regard.