Lock, loaded and loltarded.

“Authentic advanced weaponry: Featuring an available arsenal of more than 70 new and authentic weapons and gear from assault rifles with laser sites, claymore mines, .50 caliber sniper rifles, and M-249 SAW machine guns. With accessories like night-vision goggles and ghillie suits for maximum concealment, Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare has players locked and loaded to accomplish the mission.”

So reads the features list for Call of Duty 4, recently noted as being the best selling game of 2007 by number of units. That’s certainly worthy of note, but did you also know that some Call of Duty 4 fans suffer from a disease called Tom Clancitis?

Of course you didn’t, because I just invented the term. Tom Clancitis is a pounding, nausea-inducing predilection towards videogames that claim to have things like “unquestionable realism” and the “utmost authenticity.” It is a belief that your average, 16-year-old know-it-all bastard actually knows and cares exactly how authentic an AR-10 carbine gas-powered semi-automatic weapon sounds when round after round is pumped through Dolby Digital Surround sound.

Now, I realize there is a “certain kind of people”—by which I mean Republicans—who love to exercise their right to bare arms, complain about those that try to impede said rights and probably engage in active discussions about how many bullets a Desert Eagle should have in Max Payne 2, but, seriously, fuck off.

Your average videogame geek has never held a Kalashnikov and if he claims otherwise, he’s probably just a prepubescent using a trigger finger to read along on Wikipedia. He has no idea how these weapons feel, sound and handle, he’s just going off the box description.

Why, then, do we care? Why are there entire discussions online about which game has the most realistic weapons and complaining when the clip size of a Jericho 971 is one bullet larger than the real deal? Wouldn’t it be more productive to complain about the fact that the pistols in Doom 3 sound like they are shooting potato wedges out of a kitten’s asshole?

I mean, if we are going to bitch and moan about realism in videogames, then why not go the extra nine yards? Let’s see some really, graphically unchecked realism in here. I want to see weapons jam, shaking hands dropping ammunition on the battlefield, in-game nausea at the sight of spraying gore and the psychological torment of a soldier who one day returns home and cannot slip soundly back into the fold of the society he left behind to protect his country.

I want to receive conflicting orders and to suffer public humiliation and condemnation for misinterpreting them. I want to see people wailing in pain after being shot, screaming for their loved ones to forgive them. I want walls to tear apart when I shoot them, obliterating a happy family on the other side. I want tears and guts and pain and death and the scorching horrific reality that goes along with shooting an “authentic weapon” and ending human lives.

Oh, wait, no I don’t, and neither do you. This is a videogame, a fantasy where we can enjoy the vicarious thrill of performing acts we would never experience in our daily lives. Most of us would never destroy entire cities like in Grand Theft Auto, but sometimes it is fun to pretend. We never stop to think that those digital policemen might have digital wives and kids and families and dreams. We don’t want to think that, because then we would be horrified at our actions, however fictional they may be.

If you want realism, then go for the gusto. Join the army and experience everything firsthand.

Just don’t complain when those real weapons ruin your real life.