why do we take it for granted that these two go together?
today, my guy had some friends over to play d&d. a geeky good time i had to decline in favour of chores i also then declined. at some point i called him. seeing as i could barely operate the new phone i'd just got, i found myself uhm-ing and erm-ing at a bunch of giggling people. then i found myself poking fairly witty fun at them and myself. i got out of it unruffled and well pleased that i was quick enough. but ultimately, it evoked the terror i used to feel towards games as a child.
i watched jeux d'enfants the other night [strange coincidence]. the narrator lists a few staple games in the beginning. none of which i played much in my junior years. i did have a penchant for snakes and ladders - you roll the dice and move the pawn accordingly, yup. and scrabble [for the love of words, indulge me a little non-lameness]. but that's it. card games? i'll never learn the rules to whist. computer games? mortal kombat, baby: kick, kick, more of that kick. sports? love swimming.
come adolescence and young adulthood, this translated into painfully bad flirting and poor people skills. which, to salvage whatever pride i had left, i chalked up to a "no games philosophy on life". hitting on someone, for instance, requires a kind of doublethink i despise [and causes adrenaline rushes i can't bear]. i just wanna tell it like it is [except that too causes adrenaline rushes i can't bear]. yet today, with the remembrance of terror came another memory - one i'd fed, like many others, naughty or nice, to my ogreish subconscious lest it swallow the whole of me. a memory now half-digested in its unrelinquishing bowels: when i actually bothered to try playing a game, sometimes i got it right. delightfully so. some ten years back, at a seaside bowling club, my baby bro and i finished a simpsons console game, with the aid of a one-time friend we'd co-opted for the specific purpose of giving it to mr. burns and his evil balloon. hell yeah. but this dirty old cliché "game of life"... i just don't know.
so ok. children play games to develop skills they'll need as adults. adults use those skills to compete for sexual, social, and professional gratification, all while exchanging sarcastic lines; and call it a game. that much i follow. still i need solid proof, other than my own constant stage fright, that games are indispensable to human existence. and then i will try. please.
...
minutes later, on that very same new phone i can barely operate, i'm lost in a frenzy of snake ex2, level 7, extreme mode. quick enough and well pleased. i mean, any day now i might need to know how to slither my way fast to some darned elusive eggs. ow, that sounded wrong.
today, my guy had some friends over to play d&d. a geeky good time i had to decline in favour of chores i also then declined. at some point i called him. seeing as i could barely operate the new phone i'd just got, i found myself uhm-ing and erm-ing at a bunch of giggling people. then i found myself poking fairly witty fun at them and myself. i got out of it unruffled and well pleased that i was quick enough. but ultimately, it evoked the terror i used to feel towards games as a child.
i watched jeux d'enfants the other night [strange coincidence]. the narrator lists a few staple games in the beginning. none of which i played much in my junior years. i did have a penchant for snakes and ladders - you roll the dice and move the pawn accordingly, yup. and scrabble [for the love of words, indulge me a little non-lameness]. but that's it. card games? i'll never learn the rules to whist. computer games? mortal kombat, baby: kick, kick, more of that kick. sports? love swimming.
come adolescence and young adulthood, this translated into painfully bad flirting and poor people skills. which, to salvage whatever pride i had left, i chalked up to a "no games philosophy on life". hitting on someone, for instance, requires a kind of doublethink i despise [and causes adrenaline rushes i can't bear]. i just wanna tell it like it is [except that too causes adrenaline rushes i can't bear]. yet today, with the remembrance of terror came another memory - one i'd fed, like many others, naughty or nice, to my ogreish subconscious lest it swallow the whole of me. a memory now half-digested in its unrelinquishing bowels: when i actually bothered to try playing a game, sometimes i got it right. delightfully so. some ten years back, at a seaside bowling club, my baby bro and i finished a simpsons console game, with the aid of a one-time friend we'd co-opted for the specific purpose of giving it to mr. burns and his evil balloon. hell yeah. but this dirty old cliché "game of life"... i just don't know.
so ok. children play games to develop skills they'll need as adults. adults use those skills to compete for sexual, social, and professional gratification, all while exchanging sarcastic lines; and call it a game. that much i follow. still i need solid proof, other than my own constant stage fright, that games are indispensable to human existence. and then i will try. please.
...
minutes later, on that very same new phone i can barely operate, i'm lost in a frenzy of snake ex2, level 7, extreme mode. quick enough and well pleased. i mean, any day now i might need to know how to slither my way fast to some darned elusive eggs. ow, that sounded wrong.
No comments:
Post a Comment