Walking the Line
Where videogames and sex meet
The hunks of Robert Yang’s videogames are sensational. Oiled-up and lightly bronzed, they spread-eagle squat with volcanic confidence, virile and libidinous, sinewy deltoids perfectly akimbo, skin glistening in anticipation. All they need is for you, the player, to rub up on their heaving biceps with your mouse, to smack them into ecstatic submission, to lead them into sensual nirvana. Yang’s work comes with all the polish of big-budget studio games and none of the timidity; they’re smart and funny, fleet jabs to the midsection of a medium that still doesn’t know what to do with sex.
“There’s some fucked-up shit going on inside this guy’s head,” yells YouTuber jacksepticeye, who plays through Robert Yang’s Radiator 2 anthology in a constant stumble between ecstasy and fear. Jack’s Let’s Play video has more than three million views, and most passersby probably click the thumbnail after a single glance at the front-and-center beefcake clad in nothing but whitey-tighties and aviator sunglasses.
It’s difficult to imagine what Robert Yang might look like in person. With his extensive collection of virtual hunks and his penchant for making shocking viral games, one envisions a provocateur, maybe with thick-rimmed glasses like Nicolas Winding Refn or a distinctive moustache like John Waters’s. Instead, under the glow of an evening skylight at a quiet Bushwick watering hole, Robert is dressed appropriately for the summer heat, sporting beige cargo shorts, flip-flops, and a light-green marl shirt he’s held onto since his college days at UC Berkeley.
