Finally after 6 months of waiting, Xbox and PC gamers finally get a chance to take a crack and the much praised and still controversial Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. This latest installment of Rockstar Games' cash cow franchise takes place in a gang riddled and heavily stereotyped Southern California of the early 90s--the same west coast glorified in films like Boyz In The Hood, Colors, and Menace to Society, when gangsta rap also hit its stride (and is prominently featured in the game's soundtrack).

For all the rock and cave dwellers out there, here's the gist of it: This virtual island of San Andreas contains fictional cities loosely based on real ones: Los Santos (Los Angeles), San Fierro (San Francisco), and Las Venturas (Las Vegas). You take on the role of an ex-gangbanger Carl Johnson (a.k.a. C.J), fresh out of the joint from Liberty City (nice nod to the game's predecessor). You're back in town for you mom's funeral and, naturally, the cops have you perpetually pegged as a bad seed that will never change--they're more or less correct. Your old chums (including you brother, "Sweet") are still living the life but the old neighborhood has really gone downhill. So you and your "sleep with the devil" ideology get mixed up in it, striving to get your pre-joint life back and the neighborhood back up to speed with the intention of regaining your once ballyhooed status that got you locked up in the first place.

As in all modern GTA games, the open-ended game play and the variety of missions is what made and makes this series such a groundbreaking, oft-imitated game since it first hit the PS2 console back in 2001, when it had made a quantum leap from a quirky PC game franchise about stealing cars into what is now: a grand and sprawling, do-anything game that still includes a fair amount of auto-thievery on the PS2 (and Xbox).

From a technical perspective, the innovation and depth of gameplay in San Andreas is astounding. In a game where you can drive/fly/ride anything that moves, go practically anywhere (including the water) while simultaneously managing your health and status (by working out at the local gym, for example), plus your ability to recruit other gang members and have all syncopated with each individual experience no matter how it plays out is unprecedented in a single game. It is, in fact, about 10 games in one. You have more than 100 hours of gameplay with missions that you have to accomplish to progress along the story line as well as never-ending opportunities to roam about and explore the vast cities, play a plethora of minigames and go into various eateries and shops peppered throughout the cities. The port to the Xbox gives GTA better controls, a little bit better graphics and less loading time.

Sounds great, right? Who wouldn't want to play this game? Putting aside the obvious controveries (most recently, the "hot coffee mod," aka free publicity campaign courtesy of Hillary Clinton), the amazing amount of profanity and horrible stereotypes/caricatures of all three GTA games have, and there are still a couple of bigger issues.

Why develop vast and innovative role-playing game but make the subject matter so abhorrent that it gets a Mature or even Adults-Only rating from the ESRB? Are developers basically saying that the best way to make a great game is to wrap it in a blanket of murder and mayhem? Can this be right?

How could a game so inherently violent and morally offensive receive across the board praise getting ranked on average 9 out of 10, gold stars and game of the year awards? How can any reviewer ignore the things that make this game so despised by parents and politicians and rate it purely on its merits as a game, in effect creating a gulf between reviewers and all but the hardcore game players who otherwise just want some decent digital distraction, not join a GTA fan club? I found it entirely impossible. I'm not talking about why this is wrong for kids to play; that much is obvious. I'm talking about why adults gamers think--or are suppose to think--this is such a great game.

And therein lies the biggest issue of all. What does it say about the gaming community as a whole that praises a game that allows you to execute innocent bystanders, shoot cops and become a master criminal?

Videogames started out as mere kids' stuff and have since evolved into a billion dollar industry that has seeped into our popular culture and influenced film, television and music. In many instances, videogames perform better than other forms of popular entertainment. But to look at this game specifically as the pinnacle of the evolution in gaming is disturbing. The problem is, very few people in our industry seem to be disturbed by it.

How could it be that pulling someone out of car, beating them to death with a shovel and then driving off in their car while summarily running other people down be equivalent to a game of the year? Is there a point in the midst of doing this that you're allowed to stop and say "why am I enjoying this?"

Does the industry as a whole have any moral obligation when it comes to this sort of thing? At times the controversy is overblown, sometimes steering toward national book-burning mania depending on what papers you read or news shows you watch, but GTA San Andreas stands as one of the reasons why the labeling exists. Videogames are still considered one of the ills of our current society. But the two camps are virtually comical, with zealots on one side claiming free speech and artistic license and the naysayer openly oblivious to the actual game in question, referencing vague content descriptions as proof while remaining decidedly ignorant of the context. While the media loves a good black/white or red/blue controversy, the actual public is likely to feel a little more grey or purple on the matter, and rightly so, because nothing is that cut and dry, unless you're trying to sell 30-second commercials or sound like you have a "platform" worth sound biting. But to have the enthusiasts, both press and industry accolades, praise it as the cream of the crop, the best of the best--well that all but validates what a good portion of our population think about videogames and the industry. If there were but a few reviews calling GTA "overkill" or "cheaply gratuitous" or "technically remarkable but way too self-important in its pursuit of self-gratification," then maybe the two comical camps would have less impact and the game would sell well to the self indulgent gamers only, and not to every other fairweather gamer that heard some buzz and decide to check it out.

I'm a thirtysomething father of two and I love videogames, but I love them because they're games. To play a super soldier, or ancient kung fu master fighting villains or enemies within the construct of that game's universe is one thing. But when that universe charges to me to drive around a facsimile of Los Angeles from only 10 years ago, randomly killing people and committing heinous crimes, there's just something wrong with that.

To play a game were I'm perpetuating stereotypes while swimming in profanity doesn't make any sense. It isn't so much a game as it is a gross generalization of a bleak period of American history that you get to pretend to be in. This sentiment may put me in the minority but that's a stigma I don't mind having. I'm not saying don't play the game. It has technical merits coming out the yin yang while the theme they've chosen to place them is often so vile as to be pathetic. How you balance the two and make a rental/purchase decision is one of the benefits of being an adult. I'm just saying think about why you're playing the game and why a game like this is enjoyable to you, as an adult. Does playing it make you proud to be a gamer? Is it a trophy that shows off your inner teenage rebel hiding his/her relevance as a suckered consumer? Is this a game you can prominently display in your collection as the greatest game ever? For me, a game is the sum of all its parts and giving this game high praise would be ignoring those parts of this game that are not praise-worthy. The law of averages aren't being applied to GTA, which is the real problem. The majority of the media, mainstream and enthusiast both, and the game industry itself seem intent on keeping it this way. But GTA: San Andreas works out to be a totally average game. It's technically commendable but contextually condemnable. You do the math.