I Don't Get Resident Evil

Resident Evil is one of those series that has never made much sense to me. On its surface, it's a bio-horror action series featuring zombies, genetically engineered viruses, parasites and biological super weapons. However, underneath all that it carries these bizarre puzzles that seem like they could only have been thought up by an insane chessmaster, like a homicidal schizophrenic version of Batman's Riddler.

You find keys shaped like miniature statues, in some cases in the shapes of actual chess pieces. But why? Nowhere in the series is there any mystical elements beyond the seeming symbolism of these objects that are entirely out of place. Granted, a lot of the villains really ARE totally insane, but most of them don't seem to be what I would describe as "brilliantly insane", like eccentric geniuses. Instead, they seem to be more just criminally insane, or, as in the case of Albert Wesker, insanely gay (CHRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSS!). Not once have I seen a character who seems either brilliantly insane or insanely brilliant, nor have any of these characters shown an honest interest in the occult.

I honestly have not yet played Resident Evil 4, and I only did a quick run-through of the original game. I never played RE0 either, nor did I ever finish Code Veronica. But I've gotten the general gist of things, and none of the villains ever came off, to me, at least, as ever really explaining the placement of these items. Puzzles to solve to open secret passageways seem to be found throughout the series, and yet nowhere is their presence justified, with maybe a few exceptions.

This doesn't ruin the games for me, of course. I can still enjoy them for what they are, but I don't think they will ever make sense. In comparison to what is, in my opinion, both a better series, writing-wise, and scarier, Silent Hill, Resident Evil will never manage to compare, but the Resident Evil series will still remain an enjoyable one in general, even if it is sort of nonsensical.

After all, shooting the heads off zombies will never go out of style, right?

Filling Swiss Cheese: Explaining ME3's Ending Without Indoctrination Theory

Okay, once again, I'm going to write about the ending of Mass Effect 3. Before anyone starts groaning, this time I have a little bit of a different angle to take. This time, I'm going to attempt to give my own alternative to the Indoctrination Theory, in which I attempt to explain the ending as-is without resorting to the idea that it was all a dream. Naturally, your mileage may vary on this, and it's a difficult task to undertake considering the massive Swiss cheese of plotholes, but I think I do a decent job.

Without having to go into too much detail for those of my readers who are unfamiliar with the games, just before the game reaches its climax, the protagonist, Commander Shepard, and his/her team recapture an ancient virtual intelligence, or VI, a sort of computer that behaves to mimic intelligence for ease of interface but is not actually intelligent, that contains information on where the MacGuffin, known as the Catalyst, is located. Supposedly, the MacGuffin is the key component to a super weapon, referred to as the Crucible, of ancient design intended to be used against the Reapers, the ancient, synthetic entities assaulting the galaxy.

Mind you, up to this point, the Catalyst is simply a MacGuffin. It is nothing more and nothing less; so far as we, the audience, have been informed, the Catalyst is just a plot device meant to be used with the Crucible to stop the Reapers. Up until now, no one even knows what they actually do, let alone what they are, so we're kind of just meant to accept them at face value as plot devices. The Crucible, for further explanation, has supposedly been constructed by different civilizations over numerous Reaper cycles, the period of approximately 50,000 years between when the Reapers arrive and wipe out civilization, and it has never been completed, essentially meaning that you have numerous civilizations attempting to build it in the hopes that it might save them. Such behavior is nonsensical, but plausible enough that I can work with it.

The VI reveals that the Catalyst is, in fact, the Citadel, a huge space station/city in the Serpent Nebula that has served for thousands of cycles as a sort of "galactic capital", with no one really knowing its origins. It even serves in the game as the main hub from which the player can find side missions and purchase goods. It is then revealed that a major antagonist, "the Illusive Man", affectionately referred to by fans as "TIM", who runs a secret organization, Cerberus, devoted to "furthering the goals of Humanity", has informed the Reapers that Shepard has obtained the VI and is now aware of the Catalyst's identity/location. It is not clear how TIM managed to communicate with the Reapers directly, but since it's obvious at this point that he's been Indoctrinated, despite not knowing it himself, we can assume the Reapers were willing to listen, if, indeed, they even needed to speak. Whatever the means, Shepard is then informed that the Citadel has been moved to Earth's orbit.

Now, here is where the first major plot hole enters into the ending. Why Earth? Why do the Reapers suddenly, discovering that their greatest foe has discovered the secret to defeating them, immediately take the Citadel to the human homeworld? Isn't that just a little TOO convenient? Well, in a sense, yes, it is a little too convenient, but it is also explainable. Earth was the second planet the Reapers assaulted directly, and we already know the reason for this. In fact, the only reason it wasn't the first was because the Reapers essentially had to fly through Batarian space just to get there, so they, of course, proceeded to start destroying the Batarians on the way. The reason they target Earth is exactly because it is the human homeworld.

Let me put it this way: you are an entity several hundreds of thousands of years old. In all those hundreds of thousands of years, you've never once even been scratched by another living being. Then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, some little bug comes along and pokes out your eye. In this analogy, you are the Reapers and Shepard is the bug. In the first Mass Effect, Shepard managed to do what had never been done -- EVER -- by preventing the Reapers' arrival when the Reaper Sovereign attempted to open a Mass Relay, a form of extremely rapid faster-than-light travel, in the middle of the Citadel. In the second game, Shepard manages to lead a team into the heart of the galaxy and either capture or destroy a human Reaper (I'd attempt to explain this one, but it'd really take way too much time than I have for writing and you have for reading to be worth it). So, yes, the Reapers have every reason to think that humans are special, as it is a human that has managed to be the only being in hundreds of thousands of years that could manage to make them rethink their strategy.

So, in that case, why bring the Catalyst straight to Earth? Why not take it somewhere out of the way? Well, I can answer that question with a single word: Harbinger. Harbinger is the oldest known Reaper, effectively the oldest living thing in the known universe, and is, arguably, the leader of the Reapers. Little is known about the Reapers and their origins, but there are a few things that we can say for sure, and especially about Harbinger in particular. Harbinger has an almost fetishistic desire to oversee its plans personally, as we hear over and over again when it "assumes control" of various minions in the second game. Harbinger gets a hard-on for doing the most important jobs itself, which makes its minimal role in Mass Effect 3 seem all the more bizarre, but, well, for arguments' sake I'm taking this for what it is. It makes sense, then, that if Harbinger wants to protect something, it would keep whatever it wants to protect as close by as possible. And, if Harbinger wants to destroy something, it would either be there for its destruction or assume control of something that is. In short, Harbinger would be at Earth in order to destroy humanity, and the Citadel would be at Earth because Harbinger would want to be able to personally keep an eye on it.

We now return to our stupid-ass ending, already in progress. After using the combined fleets he/she has gathered from around the galaxy, Shepard breaks through the Reapers in orbit around Earth, making it possible for the Shepard's ship, the Normandy, to dispatch a landing party. With Shepard in the lead, the landing party break through the front lines and establish a forward position near the space below the Citadel's geosynchronous orbit over London. Alliance troops line up for a final run toward what the military leaders refer to as a "conduit", a weird beam of light running from the ground up into the Citadel. What is the conduit? The only explanation I can come up with is that it is some sort of built in function of the Citadel designed to hold it in geosynchronous orbit. Alliance troops, including Shepard and his/her mentor, Admiral David Anderson, charge the conduit on foot in a momentary bout of stupidity, and after fighting off a massive onslaught of Reaper-created monstrosities, are met with none other than our old friend Harbinger in the sky, who proceeds to blast the crap out of Shepard and the remaining soldiers with a death ray, and Shepard blacks out. That's it for Harbinger. Thanks for the cameo!

Shepard awakens right where he/she blacked out, armor decimated, limping and down to just a pistol to fight off the remaining Reaper forces, all the troops in the immediate area dead or dying. Radio chatter reveals that everyone is dead, giving the order to all remaining soldiers to retreat. Shepard limps on toward the conduit, bravely shooting down a few weak enemies. Finally, Shepard makes it to the conduit and... is transported upward, into the Citadel. Apparently it functions as beaming technology, too. Who knew? Finding him/herself in a dark chamber among the bodies of thousands of people who didn't manage to escape the Citadel before the Reapers claimed it, and discovers Anderson is on the Citadel somehow too via radio communication. Shepard limps forward, meets Anderson, who is also badly wounded, at a terminal that they hope can be used to open the arms of the Citadel in order to let the Crucible in. In walks TIM, to reveal that he thinks it would be much better to CONTROL the Reapers than to destroy them, and he proceeds to begin controlling Shepard and Anderson, forcing Shepard to shoot Anderson in the left abdomen.

Here is where we meet our next major plot hole. If TIM is actually Indoctrinated, how is it that he is able to seemingly control Shepard and Anderson through Indoctrination? This is simple, naturally. TIM is a puppet of the Reapers, and the Reapers are in full control. He only thinks he has free will because the Reapers let him. Meanwhile, the Reapers exert their own control on Shepard and Anderson, killing to birds with one stone: Shepard and Anderson are reminded of the power the Reapers hold, and TIM continues to be a willing pawn doing the Reapers' bidding without even being aware. The alternative in this scenario would be the Reapers attacking directly, but they would deem this too dangerous because it would risk damaging the Catalyst. More on that in a minute.

We continue to go through an exchange in which TIM tries to convince Shepard that his plan of controlling the Reapers is the best plan and can work. This ends either with Shepard shooting TIM to save Anderson or Shepard managing to convince TIM that he's been indoctrinated, at which point TIM realizes the only way out is to kill himself, which he promptly does.

Shepard and Anderson then have a moment to chat, both exhausted from their wounds. This is the one redeeming feature of the ending, in my opinion, and I think most people agree with me. It's a touching moment in which Shepard and his/her father figure throughout the trilogy get to have a real heart-to-heart connection, both sure of their own impending deaths. Indeed, Anderson, a moment later, quietly passes on with Shepard looking on solemnly.

Some people point to a fresh, bleeding wound in Shepards left abdomen as evidence of Shepard's Indoctrination. The argument, in this case, usually points out that it's the same location that Shepard shot Anderson, claiming Anderson represents Shepard's resistance to Indoctrination and that Shepard is, in fact, shooting him/herself. This, of course, requires you to assume that Anderson is, in fact, a representation of Shepard's subconscious, which is at the very least as large a leap to make as simply making the assumption that Shepard accidentally reopened an earlier wound in via stress.

The radio then crackles to life again and we hear the voice of Admiral Hackett, who asks if Shepard can hear him and proceeds to say that the arms of the Citadel still aren't open and they need to be if there is to be any hope of getting the Crucible inside. Some people question how Hackett could know Shepard was on the Citadel if everyone supposedly died in the charge to the conduit, but I don't bother with this one too much. It's a relatively minor plot hole, and can easily be explained away with a handwave, ie. something about trackers being placed on all Alliance soldiers or something. Yes, such handwaves are cheap, but they exist because they are easy explanations for minor detail issues.

Shepard opens the arms of the Citadel, and the Crucible floats in. Hackett's voice over the radio informs us that nothing's happening and the problem must be on Shepard's end. This is when any idea that the ending was at least decent firmly plants itself in the crapper and proceeds to flush itself down into the municipal water system of Dumbassville. Suddenly, a patch of floor beneath Shepard's feet begins to levitate into the air, lifting Shepard up to a level above the terminal that apparently no one noticed was up there. Dogs CAN look up, but apparently every other species in the galaxy seems to have lost this ability. And what is there to welcome Shepard to this hidden chamber of one of the most populous locales in the known universe? Why, the Catalyst, of course! Wait... what? Yes, you heard right, that MacGuffin we've been chasing all this time is, in fact, a fully sentient AI that has been literally beneath your feet the entire time.

The Catalyst appears to Shepard in the form of a ghostly image, the shape of a young boy Shepard witnessed being killed by the Reapers on Earth, and has haunted Shepard's dreams throughout the game. There might be lots of things open to interpretation in this ending, but one thing has been made almost painfully clear by BioWare: the boy is intended to represent all the people Shepard could not save. Why the Catalyst chooses to present itself this way is anyone's guess, but it must be able to read Shepard's mind in order for this explanation to work. Considering that the Reapers are established to be able to control people's minds absolutely, it is not a huge leap in logic to assume that similar technology could be used to read minds.

Now here's where things get complicated. The Catalyst proceeds to explain to Shepard that it controls the Reapers, and that the Reapers exist in order to harvest organic civilizations and preserve them as Reapers every 50,000 years in order to prevent organics from developing synthetic life that will inevitably destroy organic life. Naturally, this notion is ridiculously circular logic, but their is a sort of brilliance behind it that I have worked out. This brilliance, of course, even if it proved true, would never counter the execution so bad it could only have been written by a drunk chimpanzee, but it does make sense. First, the Reapers claim to have more-or-less always existed. They claim to have witnessed synthetics destroying organics. Indeed, they even claim to have originally been victims of this tragedy. That's the first step in the equation. The Reapers have seen this happen, and work to prevent it from occurring again.

From that, we can suppose that, much in the same way that the Reapers "harvest" organics and preserve them as Reapers, the Reapers were, themselves, originally organics. This is the easy conclusion we make in this. It gets more complicated from here. The Catalyst claims to control the Reapers. Some people believe this to be contradictory to the idea that the Reapers are artificial intelligence, but it is and it isn't. The Reapers are still intelligent and capable of acting on their own, but that does not make the Catalyst's claim of controlling them a lie. We could suppose that the Catalyst was the central control of the Reaper cycle, maintaining their purpose and directing them to perform their tasks, but that it somehow lost control. The Reapers, for sake of argument, began to act against the will of the Catalyst.

Why would this system exist? Well, I take a large part of the inspiration for this theory from the conflict between the Geth, another artificial intelligence in the Mass Effect universe, and their creators, the Quarians. Much like the Geth, the first Reapers were created but feared by those among their creators that did not understand them. This resulted in a war that ultimately led to the destruction of the organic species that created the first Reapers. Much as the Geth remained mostly loyal to the Quarians even though they would fight for their own survival, the Reapers would be upset at the loss of their creators, so they begin a process of maintaining the galaxy in their stead. They create the Catalyst to function as a form of central computer to observe and guide their efforts, but over time the Reapers begin to slowly deviate from their original intentions. After witnessing further wars between organics and synthetics, they draw the conclusion that destruction is inevitable and begin the cycles as we see them in the Mass Effect games.

That leaves one major plot hole, however: the Crucible. How is it that a device, designed, added onto and constructed over numerous cycles, could ever perfectly connect to the Catalyst and manage to carry out a function? The answer comes from the only possibility: the Crucible was originally designed by the Reapers themselves. The Reapers are not stupid. They might do things that seem ridiculous to humans, but they never do them because they just weren't thinking. Everything they do is done with specific intent, even when that intent is flawed. The Reapers foresaw the possibility that they would become the very thing they hoped to prevent, so they designed a failsafe, the Crucible, to be used in order to stop them from destroying everything. The core design of the Crucible was the necessary function, but the added devices managed to modify its use, both empowering it and adding additional capabilities, such as being able to control the Reapers directly or to take a template and imprint that template on all life in the galaxy, thus explaining the differing results of the ending.

The rest is mostly little details that can be explained with handwaves, and I really don't feel like going into every little thing. I think I've covered the major points here. Again, a lot of speculation goes into it, but I don't think it requires any more assumptions than the Indoctrination Theory. In essence, it's a sort of Murphy's Law counter to IT more than a "better explanation". It does no better of a job tying all the plot holes together, just ties them together differently. It doesn't change the sheer massive fail that is the ending, but it is an alternative perspective.

Entitlement, Methinks Thou Doth Protest Too Much

I've seen a number of independent developers out there taking stabs at the for-profit video game industry lately that, I think, are kind of unjustified. In many cases, it's just based around the idea that games should be fun and artistic and not used as merely a means to make money. In some cases, this is expanded to the recent boom in "kickstarter" initiatives, a way of soliciting donations in order to fund the development of a game without having to submit to a publisher.

While I can respect the right of developers to simply make games for the joy of making games, I find this to be rather arrogant. Not in the sense that a rich man might believe himself more worthy than a poor man because he "earned his wealth," but rather in the sense that it proposes the thought that this person has the right to dictate what is and is not enjoyable or "worthy" in a game. It causes me to wonder why a person would make such claims in the first place. Perhaps they are fed up with being ignored for games they view as being "less interesting." I don't know. What I do know is this: they are destroying themselves.

A friend of mine once shared with me a bit of wisdom that I shall not soon forget: your politics are boring. Not in the sense that your political opinion is, literally, boring, but that you will never get people to join your way of thinking by making them feel like you think you are better than they are on moral grounds, even if you actually are (yes, typically a subjective thing, I know, but whether subjective or not is irrelevant in the argument). You will only come off as grandstanding, arrogant and holier-than-thou, and in the end will just exhaust your audience rather than get them to be concerned with whatever you want to convince them of.

The way this connects with video games is pretty simple. The industry is as much a political construct as a social one. You might disagree with EA's policies, but at the end of the day they will always have better public relations, a larger budget and more lobbyists. Their business methods, focused more on quantity than quality, do not necessarily create better games, only more money. This is where, if you want to change the structure of the industry, you have to beat them. If you want to get people to respect your opinion and why what you think is better for video games going forward should be accepted, you need to be among them.

If you find yourself shouting from the mountain tops that "they are all whiny, entitled brats," no one will ever give a fuck what you think. But if they find you sitting among them, just as frustrated as they are with the way EA gouges fans of sports games, or ramps up costs on downloadable content, or how much you really hated such-and-such changes made in the sequel to whatever, they will respect you. People will begin to understand your opinion because they can connect to you.

I, for one, find independent games often tend to be some of the best, most imaginative and enjoyable gaming experiences for their cost. I feel I get more out of paying $15 for an indie game that I would give a three-star rating than I would from a big-budget blockbuster with the same rating based almost purely on the fact that it didn't cost me as much. Alternatively, a great indie game for the same price is a treasure, but so can a similarly great big-budget game be. If you want to convince me that your opinion matters, you need to convince me you're not an arrogant snob who thinks you're better than me just because I happen to enjoy some games that are made on larger budgets. Yes, maybe I am a bit too "mainstream," but the fact remains that I play the games I like, and while some of the things in those games might frustrate me, overall I still like them and am passionate about them and will defend them from people that I feel unjustly belittle them, because to belittle them makes me feel that you also belittle me as well.

Ultimately, what it comes down to is that video games are art, but art is exactly what art has been for thousands of years: it is both an aesthetic thing intended to convey the makers creativity, and it is a means of making a living. Some people value the creating more than making a living off of it, and that's fine, but some people are willing to pay for something they like, and that's fine too. We should never exclude anyone from the community because we like different things.

Except for Angry Birds. I hate that game.

Can "Mass Effect 3: Extended Cut" Fix the Ending?

So, this morning BioWare announced "Mass Effect 3: Extended Cut", a free downloadable content extension to the ending of the game that is supposed to help clarify some of the things people were confused about as well as provide closure through " additional cinematic sequences and epilogue scenes," due to be released sometime this summer. These words suggest to me that what I wrote the other day is correct: the so-called "Indoctrination Theory" is wrong. The ending we got is, for better or worse, exactly as bad as it seems.

So, now that we have some idea of what BioWare is doing to address the concerns of the fans, will it manage to satisfy those who have been so angered? Maybe. BioWare's founder and CEO, Dr. Ray Muzyka, has stated that he believes they've managed to find the right balance between addressing the biggest issues the fans had with the ending, while also maintaining the "artistic integrity" of the team (I put "artistic integrity" in quotes mainly just because I don't think the original ending had much "integrity" in it at all).

First, we have the problem of the destruction of the Mass Relays themselves. It is established canon in Mass Effect, starting with the Arrival DLC for Mass Effect 2, and reaffirmed in the Codex in Mass Effect 3 itself, that rupturing a Mass Relay will release an amount of energy roughly equivalent to a star roughly the size of our sun going supernova. This would mean that destroying ALL the Mass Relays throughout the Milky Way would cause untold amounts of destruction, becoming, effectively, galactic genocide. Now, since the energy released during the ending of ME3 is a special color, we might assume that this is somehow a special case that would NOT cause said destruction. This leads to another problem, however: galactic populations and the importance of trade.

There are two significant species in the Mass Effect universe, the Turians and the Quarians, whose biology is based upon dextro-amino acids, as opposed to levo-amino acids, which almost every other sentient species in the galaxy is based on (yes, including humans). Now, at the ending of the game, when the Mass Relays are destroyed, huge numbers of the military force of both of these species, and perhaps even the entirety of the Quarians in the galaxy, are in the Sol system, on or orbiting Earth. Dextro-based lifeforms cannot subsist on levo-based foods, and it is almost unheard of that the two would be found in the same star system, meaning that neither of these two species would be able to survive indefinitely in our solar system. Since the Mass Relays are the only means of traveling rapidly across the galaxy, that leaves only conventional Faster-Than-Light travel, meaning that if they started traveling immediately, it could be years, perhaps even decades, before they reach a star system with any renewable food sources.

Now, even worse than the idea that these two huge fleets would starve to death is the idea that, with so many billions of people of all different species stranded in the Sol system, which has only one habitable planet, how could all those people survive long on such limited resources? It seems inevitable that war will break out sooner or later as groups begin fighting for survival against starvation, unless they can manage to discover the technology to build Mass Relays on their own REALLY fast.

These are just the BIGGEST issues I feel would have to be addressed in an "extended" ending. There are others, but those are the biggest, and certainly not the only ones that would need to be there for me to feel like it's even worth it. Other issues include:

The fate of your crew. The crew of the Normandy includes a Turian and a Quarian, who, along with the rest of the crew, are stranded on an uninhabited garden world. Either the life on that planet is levo based, in which case both those characters will inevitably starve to death if they don't die of an allergic reaction first, or it is dextro based, which means everyone else will starve to death.

The Catalyst and the Crucible. It is still entirely unexplained how the two devices, built hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of years apart with no prior knowledge of the existence of the other, become somehow compatible. Did the Reapers design the initial version of the Crucible? Is the Catalyst just magic? The convenience of this is never even mentioned, let alone explained.

The Reapers. So, the Reapers were created to harvest organic life every 50,000 years before it can develop synthetic life that will destroy them? Ignoring the circular logic there for a moment, what exactly does that mean? Who created them to do this? Does this mean they just ignore the Geth, an already existing synthetic lifeform? More than that, they actually through the course of the game EMPOWER the Geth by providing them with more advanced technology. If synthetic life is so dangerous, why make them MORE dangerous? Furthermore, if the Catalyst "controls" the Reapers, as it says it does, does that mean the Reapers are not really AI because they have no free will? By extension, since the Catalyst is all of a sudden able to do something differently but can't (or won't) do so on its own, does that mean that it isn't truly an AI? I have my own theories, but they are all based entirely on conjecture at this point. While some things can be vague, things being too vague can just become ridiculous.

And finally, pardon my French, but what the fuck is "Synergy?" In the Synergy ending, in which all life, synthetic and organic, are supposed to be merged somehow to create a "perfect evolution" somewhere between the two. What does that mean? We see that the Normandy's crew, climbing out of the crashed ship, now have glowing green "circuitry" on their skin, including EDI, who was already a machine, so are we to assume that the green "circuitry" is also somehow representative of organic life? Does it flow with glowing, digital sap?

Okay, that last one is just me ranting a little bit, and I really don't care that much, but it does feel nice to just let my mind screw around with it. As for the rest, though, these are legitimate concerns I have. I could accept an expanded ending if it at least addresses these clear problems. It doesn't need to be perfect, but I would at least like to know if these major questions can be answered. If not, then it will just seem like a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.

Why I Think the Indoctrination Theory is Bullshit

So, there is a major theory regarding the ending to Mass Effect 3 that has been making its way around the Internets that attempts to claim that the ending is actually so clever it just goes over people's heads. It is explained in detail in a long video on YouTube, but for those with ADHD who don't have time or energy to watch the whole video, I'll attempt to sum it up.

Essentially, the theory claims that the protagonist of the game, Commander Shepard, is experiencing the process of Reaper Indoctrination. Indoctrination, in this sense, is a literal form of technological mind-control that, with prolonged exposure, makes it essentially impossible for an individual to fight the Reapers, and usually results in active, even willing, servitude to them. The events in the final moments of the game are essentially hallucinations brought on by the finalizing of Shepard's Indoctrination, and the ending cinematic after Shepard makes his/her choice is, essentially, hopeful visions of the future rather than an actual conclusion.

Many people have argued for or against the truth to this claim, and I personally am of the opinion that there is some truth to it. That does not, however, mean that it is in any way brilliant or even fully true. I have a feeling that the intention behind it is somewhere in the middle.

The game's developers have hinted as much by saying they were trying to make an ending that would be talked about for a long time (and Obi-Wan told Luke his father was dead, but that's another story). This suggests, so far as I can guess, that they intended for things to be a bit vague, and if they wanted to be vague, Indoctrination would have been the way to go. Ever since the very first game, Indoctrination has been known to be something that causes hallucinations and can cause people to guess what is and is not real. In fact, I would go so far as to say that would have been an ending truly worthy of the word "awesome." It would have been a brilliant plot twist worthy of high praise. However, it isn't.

My reasoning for this is twofold. First, there are major flaws in the logic used to explain the theory. First, of the three options the player is given at the end of the game, the one that supposedly would be the only choice in which Shepard actually resists the Indoctrination is the only one available no matter what. In the game, you have to gather War Assets in preparation for the final fight against the Reapers. You earn an Effective War Asset value, and the higher it is, the better the ending is supposed to be. The theory claims that the choice of "controlling" the Reapers or "merging all organic and synthetic life" are, supposedly, the wrong choices and would indicate Shepard giving in to the Indoctrination. However, those options are only presented at all if your Effective War Assets are high enough. The supposedly correct choice, "destroying all synthetic life," is the only one available no matter how low your score might be. It makes little sense that the options offered would provide no reward at all for doing better. The only part of this that would suggest truth to the Indoctrination Theory is that, if your score is low enough, you actually wind up destroying all life in the galaxy, not just synthetic life. It's never explained why that would be, so my only guess would be that there weren't enough scientists working to complete the Crucible and fix certain flaws. Regardless, it doesn't make sense that it would be the only option the Catalyst offers, because it would be directly counter to the Reapers' goals, both if what the Catalyst says is taken at face value and if it is, in fact, lying, since it would destroy the Reapers as well.

The second reason I think the Indoctrination Theory is wrong is my issue with the claim that it is somehow "so brilliant" that it just "goes over our heads." Perhaps it does go over our heads, but that does not mean it is brilliant. In fact, I would argue that the reason it fails is exactly because it goes over our heads. It comes down to a matter of understanding the audience. It is wise not to fall into the trap of thinking your audience is stupid, but it is also important to avoid the idea that your audience is too smart. Part of the reason the Indoctrination Theory has become so popular is because it fills in all the blanks. Unfortunately, the fact that there are so many blanks is a problem in and of itself: it is exactly the same as the "God of the Gaps" argument, in which one makes a claim that something is true because there is no other reasonable explanation for things we don't know. In essence, it's trying to justify things that can't otherwise be explained by drawing inferences and conjecture based on clues that are sketchy at best. In fact, some of the "clues" cited in the video are SO sketchy, it is arguable whether they were even things anyone ever intended to be noticed at all, including one-off lines from the first Mass Effect game that are so vague they could be interpreted almost any way one likes and may not even have any connection at all.

Occam's Razor, which can be paraphrased as "the simplest explanation is usually the correct one," leads me to conclude that, in fact, the idea that the Indoctrination Theory is true is based so much on conjecture and speculation that, while it might be the only explanation that accounts for all the plot holes and continuity errors, it is little more than grasping at straws at best. In short, even though the ideas proposed in it might be very clever, if it is, in fact, true, then it is so ineptly executed as to cancel out any genius inherent in its conception. In fact, in this case, it would go so far as to undermine any brilliance, as has been seen in the many blogs, videos, magazine articles, etc., that have analyzed the ending.