Final Fantasy VII proposes a vision of the nerd hero born of self-absorption, fear, and personal delusion. It introduces Cloud as it might a typical RPG protagonist, as a tough and confident male who seems well suited to win the girl and save the world. However, it then begins slowly peeling back layers of his psyche until he is revealed to be nothing more than an angst-ridden adolescent. People who think Cloud's flirting with Aeris in the first half of the game is in any way indication of his prowess as a desirable man have been taken in by a clever trick. It is eventually revealed that Cloud is only pretending to be a man Aeris used to be in love with, and that her attraction to him is based solely on this superficiality. Likewise, it proves Cloud's self-absorption and personal delusionment: He actually has convinced himself he is this man, and considers himself a capable hero because of the fact. Later, when this illusion is threatened it results in Cloud's total emotional collapse, catatonia, and regression into a childlike state within his own mind, which the other female lead, Tifa, then has to single-handedly untangle. She is actually the person who is attracted to him for who he is and not who he is pretending to be, and when she discovers the genesis of his delusion was his embarrassment at not being able to impress her by being a "hero," it reveals a pivotal irony that says as much about gaming archetypes as it does about double-standards of masculinity the (presumably male) players face in the everyday world. Cloud is clearly meant as a metaphor for the player in that he himself is "role-playing" a fantasy hero. So what happens when the fantasy hero you are role-playing for escapism is revealed to be escaping himself, and you realize youve been playing a role of someone playing a role? Final Fantasy VII squarely asks its players this question, and the answer is in the cathartic daydream of the nerd hero, the modern compromise between fact and fiction. Final Fantasy VII seeks only to do what its more modest anime counterparts have been doing for years: tailor a new, more recognizable fiction to fit its ever-changing audience.

There are other examples, too. In many ways, Final Fantasy VIII is a similar reworking of this idea only without as much cynicism. My favorite example, however, is one that is a little more complicated. It is Konami's Metal Gear Solid. It doesn't have a nerd hero in the literal sense, but it has something that functions identically: It has a nerd and a hero, and their relationship forms a bizarre commentary on exactly who is playing these games and why.

Metal Gear Solid, among other things, is a perfect pop-culture crossover. Not only it a classic Japanese (mis)interpretation of American action cinema, it is sprinkled throughout with so many little intentional and unintentional ironies that it gains a kind of goofy transcendence. It never stops for a minute to consider what it is saying about anime, gaming, masculinity, and their relation to fan bases in both Japan and the U.S. It is way too innocent for that, but at the same time it carefully builds its story around the relationship of super-soldier/protagonist Solid Snake and his fanboy/admirer Otacon in a way that thoughtfully explores todays gaming fan culture.

Otacon himself is a cultural analyst's jackpot. He is an American character, created by a Japanese storyteller, who's obsessed with Japanese Animation and wants to emulate its fantasy vision of technology in the real world, in hopes that it will amend for the fact that his grandfather was partially responsible for the bombing of Hiroshima. This kind of cross-cultural dyslexia gets even more interesting when you bring Snake into the mix. He is a Special Forces superhero, and very much like the visions of stoic heroism Otocan is used to seeing in anime. To Snake, Otacon is very much the kind of person he can't stand being around: physically weak, emotional, and naïve. Yet, the two form an odd bond throughout the course of the story that is used to underscore their ironic connection. Throughout the game, Otacon's social isolation as a nerd, and Snake's emotional isolation as a soldier continuously compliment each other, as if the game were saying, deep down, they both are really the same.