There was a time when my husband and I would furiously click away for hours on end, barely speaking, as we played a video game called Bust-a-Move 2. I realized we had a problem when the game took over my dreams. All night my unconscious self would arrange rows of colored bubbles, then pop them. I awoke exhausted. My husband (Josh Quittner, writer of the article preceding this one) confessed that he heard the game's treacly theme song whenever our dishwasher hit the rinse cycle.
After that addictive, mind-altering experience, I'm surprised to find Josh doubting that violent video games can...
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