The job of reviewing video games is becoming quite the ethical minefield. With very public instances of publishers pressuring critics to keep quiet and stick to embargo dates there's more and more talk about how game reviewers should behave. Both MTV and Variety have fired bold shots across the hull of video game journalism. Steven Totilo started the conversation by proposing a "Reviewer's Bill of Rights," motioning for the granting of more breathing room to the beleaguered critic. Variety's Ben Fritz continued in his self-appointed role as journalistic watchdog by returning fire. His "Bill of Responsibilities" laid down the law with regards to disclosure, use of review code and even how much of a game reviewers should play (Fritz says, "all"). In response to all these grim calls to action, I'm going to get downright preachy and argue for good writing over angelic behavior. Whether you're reviewing a game as a product or examining it as a work of art, how you make your arguments is, in my mind, much more important than where you're making them from. Hence, my "Seven Deadly Sins of Video Game Reviewing."

"It's tempting to aim for the middle and grant a score that'll best conform to popular opinion, but to do so is tantamount to handing your guns over to a corrupt sheriff."

In other circumstances a few of these cardinal sins might be considered virtues, but critics aren't in the business of being goodie-goodies. We're being paid to have opinions. In the cases of those poor souls who deign to weigh games from an objective perspective, they're tasked with being harsh judges. In both cases, strict, near-religious avoidance of these seven deadly sins will make them better, or at the very least, more entertaining critics. Believe me, folks, I'm guilty of all these transgressions. I'm happy if I sidestep a couple of them in each review I file.

Measure: One of the worst side effects of aggregation sites like Metatcritic and Gamerankings is the furthering of the notion that there's a correct score for a game. For me attaching a number, score or grade to a review I've written is a distasteful process. It's tempting to aim for the middle and grant a score that'll best conform to popular opinion, but to do so is tantamount to handing your guns over to a corrupt sheriff. It's better to score like you mean it and use the numbers, letters or stars to make a point. I have great admiration for the way the critics at The Action Button use their scoring method to further underline the points they make about a game. Their scores are extreme and out of step with nearly everyone else, and as such they mean so much more. Some would call this kind of scoring a feeble grab for attention. I call it having an opinion.

Dullness: Video games are a thrilling form of entertainment. Why should writing about games be so dreary? Critics should constantly aim to reflect the vibrant worlds they cover in their reviews. That's why I admire the work of experiential writers like Peter Olafson so much – writing in the first person makes games all the more personal. But even more traditional reviews could stand to benefit from a little color. There's a universe of adjectives out there begging to be tasked with the job of describing video games. Put them to work. Tell a story if you can.