Change your look, change your sex, change your race. “Ryan frees us from the phony ethics that held us back. It forces players to reckon with Rapture as an idealistic scam, those poignant feelings of heartache after the burn are magnified by unrestrained exploitation and violence. From the game’s many audio diaries to Rapture’s very infrastructure, disillusion and despair in Bioshock is all-encompassing. Conversely, the original Bioshock is drowned in the tragedy and disappointment of the city’s many poor denizens as well as its structural and ideological architects.

Infinite indulges in the slaughter of racists and revolutionaries alike, resulting in precious little time for meaningful “introverted” reflection because Booker ultimately stands for so little. The only mode of player interaction is “extraverted”, hatred of Comstock, hatred of Fitzroy.

For starters, the game punches both up and down with astounding carelessness, it’s a game overtly hostile to both the evil cartoon racists and the “bloodthirsty” revolutionaries who oppose their systemic oppression. But Infinite is lengthy for a shooter, and the rickety framework that upholds my enjoyment is far from watertight.

Inglorious Sisters, Trans Lady Vengeance, etc. This is my quick, cheap, and problematic stand-in for the trans revenge B movie I most certainly need. Though none of their lampooned hatred is specifically directed at me or trans women in general, “they’re still bigots and racists” my horrible mind goes, “surely if they’re most probably also transphobic”. There’s a special kind of thrill in gunning down the fictional racists and bigots of Bioshock Infinite’s grotesque American theme park of Columbia. The value I find in the once heralded Citizen Kane of Video Games is tasteless, reflexive catharsis.

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