The lead character of the Portal series is silent. For two games, Chell hasn't spoken, and one of the pesky robots that chatters away at her in Aperture Science even suggests there might be something wrong with her.

Erik Wolpaw, one of Portal's writers, does like that joke. "For all you know, Chell might actually be brain-damaged," he suggested, while fielding a question about Chell during a lecture at New York University's Game Center yesterday.

That's not the real reason.

"We always assumed she could talk and simply just chooses not to, what with these robots all being dicks," he said. "She's not giving them the satisfaction of saying anything."

Funny. But that's not quite it either.

This is the real reason, according to Wolpaw: "There's also this thing, with comedy—this is sort of reductive—there are sort of two different patterns. There's the straight man in a world gone mad. And the other one is: You're a crazy person in a sort of straight world. Portal is definitely the world gone mad with a straight man. And the straight man is you... Because you have to write in the margins in the game, time is kind of at a premium. The fact that there's already this established thing where you can have a silent protagonist, that saves us a lot of time.

"You may want Chell, you may want to know her back story and hear her say things, but I guarantee if she had to say her straight man lines, at the expense of half of the other dialogue, it would suck."

Wolpaw doesn't even think players are that focused on the Portal heroine, so perhaps none of us is expecting her to chime in. "I don't think people are super-invested in the character of Chell. Obviously we haven't given her much character' They're invested in the relationship that they have as the player."

In reporter Geoff Keighley's behind-the-scenes iPad app about Portal 2 he reports that Valve did consider giving Chell a line in her newest game. They changed their mind. Who can imagine what she'd have to say about all this Portal madness, anyway?

It's not, of course, but if it were, then maybe it would look like Tristan Reidford's stunning send-up. Reidford is an artist at Valve, where he does mainly modeling. He should do more movie posters.

Check out Reidford's site for more impressive work.

Portal2 70s style movie poster! [Tristan Reidford Art via Reddit]

Owning a 3D printer must be like owning magic. Because that's all they seem to do. Just...spit out magic. Like these custom Portal 2 turrets.

Michael Curry and Luis Rodriguez were showing these off at the recent RoboGames 2011. Looking at the scale, they appear to be around, what, two feet high?

Meaning I really should stop looking at them, or the urge to get one for my desk will bum me out so bad I need to lie down.

DIY 3D printing on display at RoboGames 2011! [Flickr, via Super Punch]

I know you've been curious about video games for a little while now. And how could you not be? People around you talk about them all the time.

Furthermore, I know you have great taste—you and I have had some really involved conversations about the dense storytelling of The Wire, the crazy awesomeness of Michael Chabon, and why Memento is so much better than Inception. Clearly, you get it. You are an it-getter.

So I've been hoping for a while now that a game would come along that I could finally recommend to you without reservation, something that would ease you into the world of gaming while simultaneously showing you just what it is about video games that so many people love so much. I believe Portal 2 is that game.

But wait. What Is Portal 2? How long is this going to take me? What if I didn't play the first game?
Portal 2 is a puzzle game. But it's not the kind of puzzle game you play in a window at work while the boss isn't looking. It's a "sit down and give it your full attention" sort of game, complete with characters and plot.

Technically it's a "first-person shooter", the same kind of game as Halo or Call of Duty. But you don't kill bad guys or anything like that. It just means that what you see on your screen is what your character sees.

You can have the whole game experience in around eight hours for the single-player game. The game is broken into three acts, which actually make three great evenings of entertainment. (There's also a "co-op" mode you could play with a friend either in person or online when you're done with the main story, but don't worry about that for now. See if you like the main story first.)

The first Portal is a gem, but the writers and directors of Portal 2 have done an excellent job explaining the story in the first few minutes of the game. Here's the crib notes version: You're a test subject in a giant corporate research and development company—except the computers who run the place have all gone a bit mad.

Portal 2 is an excellent teacher.
Video games don't quite "come to you" in the way that films, books and music do; in order to properly enjoy a game, you need to learn how to use it.

Fortunately, Portal 2 is a fantastic teacher. It gradually increases the complexity of its puzzles and challenges while telegraphing their solutions in an uncommonly smooth and subtle way. You'll have to learn in order to progress, but you'll never feel like you've been thrown into a situation without the tools you need. And the real genius of Portal 2 is not only does it teach you how to play Portal 2, it teaches you how to play video games in general.

You can suck at using a game controller and still do just fine.
Control and navigation can be two of the most intimidating aspects of modern games, particularly with first-person games like Portal 2. On top of that, the high-pressure, move-or-die pacing of modern action shooters can be really frustrating for newcomers. By way of contrast, Portal 2 will allow you to relax and take your time. The game contains no combat at all—no enemies bearing down, no unpredictable bullets whizzing your way. You will (almost) never feel hurried, and as a result you can take all the time you need to ponder the puzzles and line up your shots.

It's available on (almost) every type of video game console or computer.
One of the big challenges with getting you interested in games has been that you don't own any video game consoles. Why would you? You don't play games! Well, not to worry—although Portal 2 is available on the Xbox 360 and the Playstation 3, it is also available digitally for PC and Mac. (You just buy it and download it, like an iTunes app.) You don't even need a state-of-the-art graphics card or a desktop computer to run it; all you need is a two-button mouse and a reasonably new (say, up to three year-old) PC or Mac/MacBook. Installing the game via Steam and getting it up and running is a piece of cake, too. [see sidebar]

Portal 2 doesn't pull any immature video game crap. It's not embarrassing.
Now, don't get me wrong; I love video games. But you know what I'm talking about. Portal 2 doesn't feature needless violence or cursing, it doesn't objectify women, it doesn't make clumsy stabs at topical relevance and none of its characters are offensive racial stereotypes. In fact, the only human character in the game—the mysterious, silent protagonist Chell—is a woman. I know, right? They don't even make a big deal out of it, she's simply… a "she."

I promise that at no point while playing this game will you feel remotely embarrassed about it. Should your friend, significant other or potential significant other walk into the room as you're playing, you will not feel even a hint of mortification. And a big part of the reason for that is…

It's funny. Like, actually funny.
Portal 2 is one of the rare games that transcends the dreaded "well-written… for a video game" distinction. The script (by Erik Wolpaw, Jay Pinkerton and Chet Faliszek) is, quite simply, excellent. And more than that, it's funny!

You have to understand, for us gamers that's sort of a big deal—video games are almost never funny. But Portal 2 manages to be consistently hilarious, and it barely breaks a sweat in the process. What's more, the game's superb vocal cast brings the script to life, particularly The Office co-creator Stephen Merchant, whose performance as the helpful robot Wheatley displays a level of assured comedic timing that is as uncommon as it is grin-inducing.

And it's not only Portal 2's script that's funny—the game itself is funny, too. Between the absurd situations you'll find yourself in, the joyfully twisted layout of the puzzles, and the way that the action onscreen ties in with the taunts and observations of your robot companions, you'll be laughing for pretty much the entire duration.

It's smart. And it makes you feel smart.
Video games are complicated and difficult to make, and they are crafted by bright, talented people. Portal 2 is certainly no exception—the developers at Valve are some of the very smartest game creators around. But Portal 2 does one better than that; it will make you, the player, feel smart.

There really is no way to describe the satisfaction that goes along with solving a tricky puzzle—one minute you're stumped, looking from one wall to another, down a ramp and then back again, before… click. You throw a lever, open a door, and set yourself sailing through the air towards your next challenge, laughing and feeling like the smartest person in the world.

It's a joy to play.
But the real magic of Portal 2 isn't in its script, its graphics, its puzzles or its level design; it's in the way it plays. And that's why I'm so excited for you, dear Non-Gamer Friend, to try this game. As important as writing, storytelling, music and voice-acting are, play is the thing that makes a game a game. Play is why we are so passionate about these odd digital artifacts, why we spend so much time talking and reading and carrying on about them.

But gameplay can be so difficult to talk about—what's that old saying? Something about dancing and architecture? In order to really understand video games, you can't read about them or watch someone else play; you have to play them for yourself. It's why we all cried bloody murder when Roger Ebert dismissed the art-game Flower after watching a videotape of another person's playthrough, and it's why you couldn't possibly understand my adoration of the building blocks game Minecraft simply by watching me punch holes in a virtual hillside with a pixelated axe for a few hours.

Playing Portal 2 is a wonderfully kinetic, joyful experience, and it's one that I really want you to have. This is a game that revels in making the impossible possible, in laughingly defying physics by base-jumping from ceiling to floor and back again. It's a Rube Goldbergian problem-solving dream, at once satisfying, graceful, and beautiful in motion.

When I wrote my review, I could really only illustrate the feeling it imparts by breaking out my camera and setting up some dominoes.

Upon first entering a new room, every puzzle looks a bit like this...

…but through some deduction and reasoning, eventually you figure out how it goes together.

But then you think about it some more. You take into account the painstakingly crafted levels, the flawlessly placed visual clues, the lovely musical touches and the clean, colorful design, as well as the witty writing and the detailed world around you… and you realize that in fact, Portal 2 works a little more like this.

So, Non-Gamer Friend, I really hope that you'll give Portal 2 a shot. If you get stuck or have any questions, I'll be happy to answer them. And just before you tip that first domino to set the entire chain in motion, maybe you'll pause to reflect upon this smart, joyous, funny experience you're having. Maybe you'll realize just how great video games can be. Even if you never play another game.

You don't even have to thank me; just agree to play co-op with me sometime.

And hey, since you already installed Steam, you might as well try Half-Life 2.

It's totally good. Trust me.

Portal 2's Atlas and P-Body in all of their LEGO glory (Flickr, thanks James)

Reader Sean is moving into "an industrial-style condo" in the coming weeks, and felt like tailoring his home decor to match. So he's built himself a Portal 2-themed end table Cave Johnson himself would be happy to hurl lemons at.

Built from plywood with a masonite trim, the box is both a table and a storage solution, as the lid pops open. It's 2-feet by 2-feet, and if we must say it's pretty damn great.

One of the unsung heroes of Portal 2 is the "Animal King". See here for reference. Here, artist Burton Durand gives us a look at the regal turret's beginnings.

Yes, you have to, ahem, test them all.

GLaDOS gets a new human form to pester Chell in thanks to artist Heather Campbell and her awesome Portal themed illustration.

You Win by Heather Campbell / makani (deviantART)

Need your daily fill of geek eye candy? If so, head over to Justin Page's Rampaged Reality and get your fix. Republished with permission.

Aristotle, in the Nicomachean Ethics, plainly states that the aim, end, or goal of a thing is its good. Each thing is directed toward some greater good, and we, as people must seek to understand what that good is. The efforts of the Nicomachean Ethics are to understand the good and attain it, not for an individual alone, but for a whole people or state.

Now, gamers know better than most people, though perhaps game reviewers know it less than others, what Aristotle was talking about. Games are made (despite all of the advertising, the money grabs, the critical review, the theological dissection) to be fun. A woman recently asked me what the point of Portal 2 was. My answer received laughter from some people, perhaps because of who I am, perhaps because of who the woman was, but I stand by it. I said simply, "Joy. The point is Joy." Games have a proper end, they are there to engage, entertain, frighten, excite, sadden, and exalt us. They are there to give us that deeply human experience that all art has the potential to communicate to us...Joy.

Now, it is true that games are seen by gaming companies (I do not say the actual developers, because it is my impression that they know very well that they are making "Joy machines") that the end of video games, like the end of books, or movies, or songs, is profit. Certainly, they say, these things must produce enough pleasure that people will want them and the next iteration when it comes out. But for the company, our joy is a means to the end of capital. For gamers, capital is a means to an end of joy. At first glance it seems a somewhat symbiotic relationship, to be sure.

The problem comes when the two ideas of what games are for come into conflict. The game companies insist that flooding the market with a genera or scads of sequels will be good. The game players insist that it is bad, as games lower in quality, demand more of the player's resources for less joy. This is also why gamers long for innovation in gaming, and game companies are scared. They disagree on what the purpose of gaming is, they debate over the good that it aims toward.

This is, of course, not unique to gaming. Television, movies, music, and books all suffer from the same process of incompatible ends. The purpose of writing is to inform or entertain, to explain or argue. For publishers, this is replaced by the purpose of profit. Of course a writer should be paid for her work, and there are numerous steps to publishing a book, hence the work of publishers. However, the publisher's work is to facilitate the production of books, but the model has been flipped on its head. So it goes for movie studios, record labels, and video game publishers. The original impetus, creating art and entertainment, which benefited from those who could help (producers, studios, publishers), has been turned into the means of profit, and so we come to the sad state of most of western art.

The solution then is to put our priorities right again. A model where play is the thing, joy is the point, is in direct conflict with those who would "take the fun out of making video games." For to create art of any kind is to experience the frustration, ecstasy, tears, and laughter of any great and worthwhile work of human hands. In other words, it is to experience Joy.

For some Christian perspectives, my own included, the point of all creation is Joy. Even views that are radically different in Christian tradition express this view. The first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism is "What is the chief end of man?" The answer? "To glorify God and enjoy Him forever." Joy is the point.

Games are meant for joy, in their making, in their playing, and in the reflection on them. Those who would remove joy from this very worthwhile pursuit are the enemies of those who make and play games. The industry is foundering in the face of decades of the conflicting pursuits of those who make and play the games on one side, and those who see games as a means to a capital end. Perhaps this is why small indie developers are finding such success these days. From an e-mail conversation I had with Craig Adams, I feel confident saying that a game like Superbrothers: Sword & Sworcery EP comes from deep personal and intellectual reflection, not from the money-grab mentality. The same could be said of the upcoming Dream:Scape on iOS.

You may ask what I propose to do about it. My answer may be a bit of a cop out. It is not for me to say what the proper economic model should be, or how much games should cost to make, or how much we should pay for them, or how they should be published. For philosophers and theologians, our work is to point to a place on the map and, and knowing what we do, say "Here be dragons." It is up to captains, shipwrights, and quartermasters to determine the best way around or through those waters. In other words, people who know about economics and game development models must answer those questions.

What I can say is this: if gaming companies wish to prosper, they must put the long term joy of the gamer before their short term profits. This will not only make gamers happier, more loyal customers, but will put the priorities back where they belong. Perhaps economists and business people will tell me I'm wrong on this one.

But to be sure, I know a dragon when I see it, and this one is as old as the world.