"A man chooses. A slave obeys. I love BioShock, I hate BioShock. It's the game that threatened to burst open our understanding of just what could be achieved through a synthesis of ideas and interactions. And it kind of did. And it kind of ruined itself by doing so.
This is going to contain fundamental spoilers, so if you're still living in denial or the past, here's where to get off. You can go elsewhere for picture postcards from Rapture - how sumptuous the scenery, how detailed the landmarks, how invigorating the entire aesthetic. This is about how that glorious tapestry has one huge fissure: at once its greatest triumph and the setup for its ultimate failure. Those three little words: "would you kindly"."