The University of Idaho Argonaut

This is the most painful sentence I have ever typed. The fingers on my left hand are raw, red and feel like they could bleed at any minute. All because of a video game.

You’ve seen it, probably even played it: “Guitar Hero,” in any of its versions. I’m sick of it. Not because I’ve been playing it for hours, which I haven’t, or because my roommate plays it for hours, which he does. I’m sick of “Guitar Hero” because it could kill rock ‘n’ roll.

All the time spent playing a game could be used to actually learn how to play the guitar — or bass, drums, and lead vocals if “Rock Band” is the game of choice — instead of simulating the heavy riffs of true guitar heroes. If you shop right, it costs about the same. Besides, how many people are famous for playing video games?

I know the price is similar because I have taken it upon myself to avoid the games and learn the real thing. I will never be Chuck Berry or Angus Young, but I refuse to be another drone who can only pretend to do things instead of being the genuine article.

That’s why my fingers hurt.

I stayed up all night practicing the first three chords in the guitar book: E, A and B7. I can’t play any songs yet. I do have goals. You Xbox heroes can strive for your million points as I attempt to learn Metallica, AC/DC and Guns N’ Roses songs. You might beat me to your goal, but who wins in the end?

As our culture becomes more digitized, we are in greater danger of losing “real” activities in favor of plastic and virtual representations. It’s been happening since the Industrial Revolution, people being replaced by machines. Many people thought that the human body would be replaced by cybernetics, but we are on a fast track to having our imaginations replaced first. Movies and TV took the place of radio; radio replaced books; books represented oral storytelling. Before that, people had to go have adventures in order for their stories to be told.

This is my story: I grew up with a musically inclined family. I took my shot at it, with piano lessons and a year playing the trumpet. I was even good at it until I was hit in the mouth with a baseball.

Now I am determined not to let a video game ruin music. If we are lucky, there are some kids playing “Guitar Hero” right now who know in their rebel hearts that a game isn’t good enough. They must rock. They’ll convince their parents to buy them Les Pauls, Stratocasters, Exploders, B.C. Riches, or Flying Vs.

Or, if you are me — and thank God you aren’t — a Gibson SG , red with the black pick guard, and double cut-outs. It’s an instrument that Satan himself might have designed. It sounds great pumped through my Marshall amp, even if I can barely play a twelve-bar blues riff.

What can I say? I’m a rocker, I’m a roller, I’m a right out of controller. Just be happy I’m not trying to sing.