“A man’s at odds to know his mind cause his mind is aught he has to know it with. He can know his heart, but he don’t want to. Rightly so. Best not to look in there.”
- Blood Meridian, by Cormac McCarthy
I finished playing Naughty Dog’s 2013 release The Last Of Us at around 8 PM Wednesday night. It was raining when I finished, much like it had been raining for the majority of the game’s 18 hour run time. Summertime in Georgia, and all. Rain is a factor. Upon completing the game, I powered down my PS3, turned off the television, set the controller on the TV stand, and sat with my chin on my hand for about half an hour watching the storm outside. I realized that I wanted to write about The Last Of Us, not so much in a quick review form as much a longer journal entry, or a Meditation, or maybe just an honest thank you note to the creators over at Naughty Dog in the event that someone from their team stumbles across these words. Whatever this piece ends up being, I present it to you here.
I will do my best to treat The Last Of Us as its own entity, but the fact of the matter is simple – The Last Of Us is the culmination of the last ten years of storytelling, and I just can’t talk about it intelligently without addressing other stories scattered throughout various mediums that came before it. Therefore, in the words of Captain Renault from my favorite film of all time, “Round up the usual suspects.” This article will be lengthy. Forgive me. I reckon I’ve just got a lot to say.
