Video Games Are Real

Massively Multiplayer Online Games are real life, and I’m not talking LARPing.

MMO’s all run roughly the same system: you level up, form a party, and go raid dungeons for the pursuit of “loot.” The game is essentially the structure, story plays a tertiary role at best and is largely there to cloak this system from derogatory claims of the game being a “grindfest.” Yet despite the repetition there are still millions who log in every day and giddily fork out cash for the “new” iteration. Why? Peel the cover back and you’ll find a mirror beneath, and a face staring back thats devoid of all the messy details of reality. In these fantasy worlds it just seems brighter, simpler, and easier to achieve importance and the idealized versions of ourselves. So since yesterday was April Fool’s it seems apt to mention that this is without a doubt the longest running hoax of all time.

Its one you’ve heard before, not a new refrain by any means but instead of getting tired of it like we might a song blaring endlessly on the radio we just keep coming back for more. Consumerism, the one true God of the Western world.

Here we’ve spun addiction into a virtue, glorified excess and thumbed our noses at frugality. Consumerism is like an alcoholic sorority girl at a Jell-o wrestling tournament. We roll in it, slather our bodies with it, hungrily lap it up until pushed to the point of exhaustion. Sometimes we wake up to the harsh light of day and look aghast at what we’ve done. Shame, horror, disgust. But just as soon we are back again, sliding into that pool and trying to pin the next slippery foe to the floor. All for that fleeting satisfaction of the prize, the next piece of stuff.

Just how your level 20 mage tries to nab that extra 5 gold so he can get that level 20 staff, the level 19 one just doesn’t have the same luster anymore. In my view, obsessing about stuff erodes culture and society in the ways that most matter, the effects of which sometimes aren’t obvious for decades. This isn’t a negotiation. You can’t just fold the old values of personal growth, family, and friendship in with the new and tag each with the same importance. Taking the red pill reformats human consciousness like a hard drive with ever shrinking partitions. There is no purple pill.

For those with enough good fortune to be raised by more “outside the box” parents you have an advantage out of the gate and life is more about emboldening your resistance to the pressures of conformity. Most others are born into this deceptive landscape, as their parents were before them. The phrase “money can’t buy happiness” is often bandied with haughty finger wagging yet how many actually live it? A declaration that is just as empty as how that sorority girl feels when personal reflection comes knocking. Breaking out of this pattern of sentient cows isn’t easy either, each new thing comes with the possibility of bumping up your social status, “Dang look at that guy’s car, wish I had that. Maybe if we hang out I’ll learn how I can get one too.”

Just like an MMO theres a reward structure built into it all that makes you want to complete just one more quest and follow the chain of actions until you get that new item, then the whole process restarts for something bigger and shinier that takes twice as long. Its a treadmill that we leash ourselves to without thinking. You can cut the cord but it takes time and resilience and you’ll have to brave the cluster of advertising fleas urging you to forgo bathing, you wouldn’t know who you are without them right? So just buy something and you’ll feel better. For a little while. The perfect citizen is the perfect consumer so knock off all the protests, requests for oversight, and complaints about being poisoned. Top men are handling it. Top men. But if you think the answer is waiting for a white knight to come galloping in to liberate us you’ll be waiting forever. No, the emancipator is within.

Here are some ways to break free of the treadmill:

  • Avoid locations soaked in advertising – These are places like the mall, Walmart, Target, Best Buy, etc. Try spending your time at someplace like a park or a trail instead and if you have to buy something choose a single store. These huge stores have poured in millions in researching consumer patterns and are organized in just the right way to make you see and pause as much as possible on your route to the thing you needed.
  • Avoid mainstream news/media – Advertising has long been the backbone of newspapers, and the media overall. It generates cash that keeps them going and many of the stations rely on “shock jock” tactics to keep you from changing the channel and keep those ad dollars flowing. Fox News, CNN, MSNBC, ABC, NBC all spin narratives to keep pre-ordained stories going even when there isn’t actual news.
  • Read more – Limit internet reading, read books, and avoid magazines. Exercise restraint on online reading and try to keep it to an hour or less a day, your attention span will thank you. Magazines and many blogs are also chock full of ads and structured with catchy short buzzwords that like news coverage, are designed to keep you from clicking or flipping away.
  • Awareness of urges – This taps into the Id part of psychology and impulse control. Personally I have a problem with peanut butter cups so I’ve started keeping a tally of each time I get the desire to eat one. Instead of letting urges control me from moment to moment I can see how frequent they come, and the overall size is unsettling. This gives me greater control and reflection.  Do the same thing with media consumption and entertainment urges and you’ll be shocked at what you notice.

Throb to Rob

Five hooded punks came up over the rise
Malice, rage, and fear in their eyes
With a gleeful shriek, a hungry cry
“Hey, lets get that guy right there!”
Come tangle with them if you dare
Confusion, glancing up and down the street
Wasn’t long before the patter of feet
Key jammed in the car door
“Open goddammit! I can’t be their score!”
Door gets open, glass flies broken, fists have spoken and they speak even more
Pedal to the floor, in motion despite their devotion
Blows rain pain but this is life or death
Fucked with me nearby my nest
Should’ve guessed the song wouldn’t last long
Seen their last dawn and slipped
Beneath the wheel the tires squealed
Thought I was human veal when they were the meal

Judge didn’t see it that way,
Sentenced me to only 90 mins sunlight a day
Eventually I got out but had no clout
Its all in doubt when you’ve got a sheet
No choice but to cheat and roll the dice
Can’t have a life shredded with vice
All you want is just a job
And you can sob and sob but it won’t change
You’ve got no range and the world closes on in
One way out now and its with a MAC-10
Cruisin’ with four of my boys flashing our toys
Making noise in this miserable fuck’s face
Couldn’t beat our pace
Said his name was Bob and then I felt it
The sinister itch, the trigger finger twitch
This fool looked like a snob and by then we knew
Only one way to break through
From life as a slob
From the throb to rob

The Fix

A gram of bliss clenched in his fist
Ticket punched to resist the malaise that persists
When you let the world tax you down
Face a frown, eyes to the ground, lifeless to those around always
Until that man with the baggie comes
What hes got will help you run
And hide
From everything but the sting
Dreams put away on a shelf to collect
Dust so long you can’t remember where they’ve gone
Or the place you once belonged
You’re ground down to the warning in a verse,
In a song gone wrong and not as strong as you thought when you sought to blot
It all out for just one moment
Just one bump, just one quick slip
Through the door in your arm to go with the flow
The hoes and the bros and the 20 to life county joes
But that ain’t you
You’re the one with the luck
You can duck but you can’t even tell when they’ve snuck
Into you the biggest lie of all
That the millions that jump in dont fall
They were the ones meant to crawl and the gall
To think that could be you, we thought you knew?
They say only the fools get the itch, twitch, and bitch
Destined for the ditch but you
You’re rich, you’ll stich, you can always flip the switch
Oh that feeling when they push it in
It floods every sin
Every whim, each time it begins again, a second wind that you’ve pinned
To the sight and the might of the first sunrise you ever saw
If that sight left you raw to gnaw
Declawed
Looking through a straw
Forward now
Past the mention of pretention, the doubt and the clout you’ve given in
To a life burned down to the pegs
Varicose veined legs
One pair of socks that mock to get that rock
An old dirty gym bag full of rags that sags
With the weight of what once was
Until you can get your kicks
And transcend this mix
With just one more fix
Just one more fix

The Heart’s Filthy Lesson

I could still remember the spice on her lips.

It was always sweet and often sour, portents of the day’s burgeoning conflicts or the sticky embrace of late afternoon lovemaking. Yet try as I might to figure out what to expect I could never quite nail it down.

The mental tripwire system I’d designed after her first big blow up was battle tested, yet still defeated every other day. Each time restarted the process of refining it and adding in the last cue that had failed to trip the alarm last time. The work never stopped. Something told me I was making progress but I didn’t trust that feeling completely, and the twinge of doubt sent a slight shock with each refinement.

It was just as likely that I was devising an entirely separate system at the same time, that my thoughts had defected and gone rogue, somehow tempted into secretly toiling away at a trap instead. The bubbling paranoia spoke of a conspiracy that my thoughts had become like so many corrupted governments before: taking all the allocated resources and doing just enough to divert any gazes to the direction of their true passion project.

The beer swirled in the glass as I took a sip and set it back down while the carbonation meandered to the surface like my uncertainty.

I closed my eyes and sighed as the taste of her lips came back.

Even now it burned with such an intensity that my teeth couldn’t help but grit against it. I wasn’t sure that I loved her, wasn’t sure that I could endure the rocking seas that her presence wrought but the addiction couldn’t be helped. Nor did I want to.

There was no thought for what came the next day when I was with her, we were transported to our own volcanic world. We flamed hot, we scorched the sun, we scorched our friends, we burned our families. That distant throbbing guilt never stopped but it always seemed worth it.

If she asked, I’d drown all my clothes and possessions in gasoline.