This is my last post about Grand Theft Auto IV.

At least for a while. Before that, I want to talk about kids—my kids.

Based on some very articulate comments on the GTA posts so far, I wanted to respond and talk a little about parenting and gaming.

I have two boys, 6 and 10. I let them play games. And in my house, they have access to lots of games. And by lots I mean when we stroll past the Game Stop at the local mall and the kids ask to go in and look around I always ask, “Why?” We have a lot of games.

What I rarely do, is let them play games unless I’m around and know what they are playing.

Their game diet consists mainly of E and T rated games. When they shoot to kill, it’s usually in the acceptable genres of WWI and space aliens. Since they are boys, I figure they need to shoot something sometimes.  Beside, I’d rather they hit each other in Super Smash Bros. than in Real Life:  Smack Your Brother. If they want to skip school and throw stink bombs and hide in the girls locker room, I’d much rather they get their jollies playing Bully than trying it out at school.

I’ve even let them play the odd M game once in a while. A little Halo never hurt anyone that wasn’t a Covenant warrior. And while Uncharted: Drake’s Fortune is a little bit more bloody than Hanna Montana, the narrative is no less banal or interesting to my guys.

But I have no plans to let them play GTA. Oh, they’ve asked. Asked to play GTA III. Asked to Play GTA: San Andreas. And I imagine it’s only a matter of time until they ask to play IV.

But I won’t let them. And why? Well, part of the answer is that they have plenty of other games to play. And by plenty I mean if they played every game we have on the shelf to completion, they would probably wake up Rip Van Winkle- style 50 years in the future.

That’s not the only or most important reason. Because the main reason I don’t let them play GTA IV is that I just don’t think they are mature enough to understand the context, get the jokes and sort out the very ambivalent, say post-modern, feelings that I always get from playing that kind of game. What I mean is, as their dad, I can’t handle them playing the game.

If I can’t explain to them what’s going on, how they should think about it or anticipate what they might feel when playing it, then it’s off limits. That goes for GTA IV. That goes for Internet porn. That goes for horror movies. That goes for Joel-Peter Witkin’s awesome fine art photography.

I think GTA IV is something like great art because it is complex and because I can’t simply boil it down to a simple message for my kids. I can’t just say, “It’s just a game.” Nor can I say, “That’s naughty. Stay away from it.” Nope. It’s more complex than that.

They’ll get older and we will be able to have conversations on an order of complexity such that I will let them play GTA, oh, I dunno, GTA 6. For now, I’m happy to help them understand the meanings in Mario and Call of Duty and figure out how the hell to deal with the fact that they want to surf You Tube 24 hours a day.