I Beat A Video Game, Yay!
Readers might recall my post concerning my love of Final Fantasy, and how I had started on XIII. In the meantime, I have also started playing Dissidia: Final Fantasy on my PSP. I play this game while the AmberLynn watches girl-shows I'm not much interested in. I sit on the couch next to her, because I enjoy being with her, close by, but women being catty is thrilling for only a few minutes, so I escape into the world of animated polygons.
On weekends, late at night, or with this stupid retail schedule on days I have to work evenings, I play games on the TV in the morning. I had an opportunity to play XIII loud and to completion this very morning. Now, I haven't 100%'ed it yet, earned all my nifty digital trophies that don't really mean anything (they totally do), but I played the story through. Basically, I kicked Jesus's ass so that God wouldn't come back. Confused? I thought it was awesome. God-things making other god-things out of humans only to turn into monsters or crystal (you die either way, see?) only to find out one of the god-things was born only to die, and in dying it wipes out millions of unwitting humans in an effort to call back the very first god-thing. The protagonists decided, chose, to fight the unending cycle of death without purpose. And of course as I am an avid video-game player, I lost over and over again until I luckily won!
What does all this mean? My beating another entry in a storied franchise? Nothing. What does finishing the latest book amount to? How about writing in this blog? Yet another entry, more words junking up the internet. Like the protagonists of my game, I choose this life I live, finding pleasure in the small victories, finding fulfillment in the truly epic parts of my life, like making my significant other smile. I don't think I'll ever square off against a god-thing, but I think that if I did, all these little experiences that are mundane and meaningless by themselves, would be a primer for the type of character I would be. I'll leave that trail off, I can't judge myself, I know I'm awesome, but others might argue I'm absolutely righteous, and who am I to argue?
Beating another game is like completing a puzzle. Only a few might see the results of the efforts, but there is a sense of self-satisfaction. In a world where a nuclear bomb could set off the Yellowstone caldera killing millions and starting a new ice age that would kill off millions more, finding satisfaction in the little things is important. These things keep me sane. A psychiatrist once told me that I indeed suffer from depression, but that as long as I stay focused on something, I seem to be doing all right. Be it video games, a TV show, the next Dune book, (attempts at) writing, my family, I'm surrounded by focus. Life is good (except for the conniving cuntress I work for, but it'll pass one day and won't matter).
Interesting that Final Fantasy XIII asks its denizens to fulfill their Focus, succeed and be crystallized, fail and become a zombie. The main characters fought their Focus and in so doing freed the world from bondage to the god-things. They made their own Focus. Even something so simple (or complicated) as a video game serves as a wonderful reminder of how trivial yet amazing life is.
Beating a video game was the highlight of my day. That's better than having no highlight at all.
On weekends, late at night, or with this stupid retail schedule on days I have to work evenings, I play games on the TV in the morning. I had an opportunity to play XIII loud and to completion this very morning. Now, I haven't 100%'ed it yet, earned all my nifty digital trophies that don't really mean anything (they totally do), but I played the story through. Basically, I kicked Jesus's ass so that God wouldn't come back. Confused? I thought it was awesome. God-things making other god-things out of humans only to turn into monsters or crystal (you die either way, see?) only to find out one of the god-things was born only to die, and in dying it wipes out millions of unwitting humans in an effort to call back the very first god-thing. The protagonists decided, chose, to fight the unending cycle of death without purpose. And of course as I am an avid video-game player, I lost over and over again until I luckily won!
What does all this mean? My beating another entry in a storied franchise? Nothing. What does finishing the latest book amount to? How about writing in this blog? Yet another entry, more words junking up the internet. Like the protagonists of my game, I choose this life I live, finding pleasure in the small victories, finding fulfillment in the truly epic parts of my life, like making my significant other smile. I don't think I'll ever square off against a god-thing, but I think that if I did, all these little experiences that are mundane and meaningless by themselves, would be a primer for the type of character I would be. I'll leave that trail off, I can't judge myself, I know I'm awesome, but others might argue I'm absolutely righteous, and who am I to argue?
Beating another game is like completing a puzzle. Only a few might see the results of the efforts, but there is a sense of self-satisfaction. In a world where a nuclear bomb could set off the Yellowstone caldera killing millions and starting a new ice age that would kill off millions more, finding satisfaction in the little things is important. These things keep me sane. A psychiatrist once told me that I indeed suffer from depression, but that as long as I stay focused on something, I seem to be doing all right. Be it video games, a TV show, the next Dune book, (attempts at) writing, my family, I'm surrounded by focus. Life is good (except for the conniving cuntress I work for, but it'll pass one day and won't matter).
Interesting that Final Fantasy XIII asks its denizens to fulfill their Focus, succeed and be crystallized, fail and become a zombie. The main characters fought their Focus and in so doing freed the world from bondage to the god-things. They made their own Focus. Even something so simple (or complicated) as a video game serves as a wonderful reminder of how trivial yet amazing life is.
Beating a video game was the highlight of my day. That's better than having no highlight at all.
Comments
Post a Comment