That Roger Ebert. What is this flirtation we have with him, this esteemed film critic who stirs us up like a hornets’ nest, pulling our hair like the bully in class? He doesn’t fight fair. He has yet to go to the ‘extreme’ of playing a recent game. He selects poor representatives on our behalf. He summarises our arguments feebly, then attacks those summaries. He works backward from his desired conclusion, seeking a definition of art that excludes videogames on principle. He opines that art is a matter of taste, settling on the achingly uninsightful “We know”, with himself as judge, jury and executioner.