Julian Rants About Video Games

Julian rants. He says it’s a way in which he works out his thoughts. He says it helps to have an audience. Currently I am the audience. “It’s like a blanket,” he says. “This modern paradigm we’re in. It’s just like a blanket. Covering up all this dissatisfaction. Telling us that the dissatisfaction isn’t real, or more accurately, that the things it is about aren’t real. And then it throws video games and TV at us, to distract us. But also to give us a place to look for the things that are missing. The mythic symbols, the archetypes. The meaningful journeys. It’s all in there, but disorganized. Telling us further that these things aren’t real. The fact that something shows up in a fantasy game makes them less real, and more explained. If mythical creatures and hero journeys showed up only in your imagination and dreams, then you’d be like ‘that’s weird, I wonder what that is about’. But if it’s in a game, then you’re excused from taking it seriously. You feel a bit ashamed that you like it so much and everyone thinks you’re a bit childish and immature. Case closed. No introspection needed. No transformation possible. We all just stay immature for the rest of our lives. Until we get too busy raising kids to care anymore. No more time for video games then.”

My housemates and I have recently started playing Breath Of The Wild. The game is beautiful, and completely engrossing. I love the story line, of an ancient civilization with advanced technology that’s being uncovered in a moment of crisis. And magic. Of course there’s magic. I love the puzzles, and I love the way the character levels up by solving puzzles, rather than winning fights. I don’t enjoy game mechanics where you gain experience points through repetitive actions. It’s grindy and doesn’t feel like learning. But this game is getting it just right. We’re currently playing in shifts, because we only have one Switch. Sarah and Nate are downstairs, watching Murphy play. The situation seems to somewhat irritate Julian. 

“What do you think the dissatisfaction is about,” I ask him. “That we all secretly wish we had lives full of meaning and adventure?” He shakes his head. “No Leia, you’re missing the point. The meaningfull adventure isn’t external. Almost nobody truly yearns for physical fighting, life threatening danger, or trekking the wilderness for months at a time. It’s the internal hero’s journey that’s missing. The descent into the subconscious. The ascent to spiritual peaks. The subconscious is where you’ll find mythical creatures and heroic adventures. And magic, of course. Always magic.” He nods thoughtfully, and smiles a sad little smile. It’s vulnerable, and quite endearing. It makes me feel like somewhere in this highly intelligent man there’s also a sad little boy hidden away.

“We’ve forgotten how to interpret these stories,” Julian continues. “Humanity has always told stories about the inner journey. About the dangers and pitfalls to avoid. The traps. And the resolutions. Leaving maps for the next generations. But in our modern society we think everything is supposed to be about the external world. And so all the deep stories, they just seem somewhat silly to us. Or shallow. And we think ancient people were a bit… ignorant. Superstitious. But in actuality we might be the ignorant ones. Isn’t that ironic.” I copy his sad little smile, letting myself be touched by the possible irony. Then I go grab my housemates for lunch.