The Fifth in a series of discussions about games with Gods
We got right to it. I didn’t even remember my hike up to see him this time. The day was already moving so fast. It was fitting. The sun was out and the sky was empty. I drew back on the heavy gold bow. The arrow flew true hitting directly at the large black crow. I thought I’d feel strange killing a bird I wouldn’t be eating. It’s midnight carcass glistened, the feathers refracted more light with the silver arrow throughs it’s breast. We didn’t eat it. Another arrow was quickly drawn. This time Prometheus was running in a zigzag pattern yelling for me to hit him. Of course, he knew I couldn’t. Gods move quite fast you know. But as sturdy as his bow was — a gift from his “secret” girlfriend Athena — I was feeling my ego expand. I moved my aim back and forth in short reflexive jerks. I thought, briefly, I could hit him. I was sure of it. He laughed and yelled something. I released. I can’t completely describe what it looked like, but Prometheus’ hand flew up to his eye, with such a flash it seemed to always exist there growing out his head. He caught it. He caught my arrow. He twirled it between his strong fingers sheathing it in his back hanging quiver. He hopped gently over the boulders to meet me. “Nice! that would have hit me in the eye. Well done.”
“Yeah well good catch, err, block?”
“Don’t feel bad. It’s not easy for humans to hit a god.”
“That’s comforting. Thank you.”
“I didn’t know you needed comforting.”
I smiled and sat next to his boulder fingering the bow string plucking it like a kind of guitar. The sun didn’t seem to move, but it must have been later in the afternoon by now.
“You know, when I stole Zeus’s flame there were several arrows I had to dodge just as easily.”
“What do you mean easily?”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Considering the temperament of the gods, you’re right. But tell me anyway.”
“I lost on purpose.”
“So, humans are the dumb ones? Why would you do something like that?”
“It wasn’t the arrows that got me. Ares had given me simple tricks to never get hit by one. But even gods can’t move faster than light. I stood right in front of Zeus and I let him strike me down.”
“Why would you ever do that? Why didn’t you just get out of there? It was obviously an easier thing to have done?”
It was obvious I believed Prometheus. He could tell his story got me. I leaned in not realizing I was holding the bow very tight. I heaved it over to him. He caught it with one hand and it was almost instantly around his chest. He was so fast.
“So you knew you’d be punished right?”
“Of course. Zeus isn’t that big on jokes. Unless he’s playing them.”
“Ok. So I’ll ask again because at the moment you see like a bigger fool than me. Why would you ever do that?”
“What I didn’t tell you, and another thing most people don’t know is I was chased by arrows for several years. I rarely stopped moving. I was never tired. But I got bored. Once you know how to dodge a flurry of arrows, dodging them for any period of time isn’t any more interesting.”
“Let me get this straight. You doomed yourself to an eternity of torture because you were bored?”
He laughed and rubbed his side as though reliving his experience tickled his love handles.
“Fun fact about the All Father — you never know when or how he’ll punish you. I honestly didn’t think it would be so harsh. But I never thought I’d get bored with it too.”
“Yeah you can never get bored of having your liver plucked from you gut every day. I feel ya.”
I rubbed my side but I winced instead. “So let’s look at my present situation a little differently.”
“Like as if you weren’t an idiot? I can’t. It’s too easy this way.”
“No. Smart-ass. What I mean to say is even when you’ve been living a life learning things like how to dodge arrows, two things happen. One, things happen that you don’t expect. Two, you can get bored with anything when your forced into it.”
“I hated a job for a year. My entire life was unhappy because I just needed money and the opportunity came up.”
“And that’s an easy one. Some folks in your green little world have to live with retched people maybe for the sake of children. Lives are easily ruined by boredom. And many times, I’ve found, boredom leads to violence and ignorance. Mainly because people are stuck. And when you’re stuck in time, your brain gets stuck in autopilot. Why would it need to change, after all? But brains are made to adapt and change. That’s the only way they work well.”
“Not to trivialize hard knock lives, but the difference in challenge and action in game seems so similar. I know we talk about life and games a lot. But I’m…”
“Don’t apologize. The beauty of life is that games can relate and vice versa. Or maybe we can relate to life because of games. After all, most children learn social connection through fun trial and error, typically through play.”
“Well sometimes games forget about challenges leading to meaningful action. Of course, action in games isn’t required to be meaningful. After all, mowing down aliens with big guns is fun at times. But look at the difference in your story. Your challenge wasn’t dodge arrows. Your challenge was finding something to break the boredom. And your action — as stupid as it looks — became a myth of legends. How much more meaning could we ask for?”
Prometheus walked shuffling around his rocks. I stood up and followed him through the tall trees. The sun was finally beginning to settle behind the mountains and the cooler breeze was introducing the evening. As quickly as he’d caught my last arrow, he had notched and shot on through another crow. It was amazing. I didn’t feel for the bird this time. It was perfect.
“I’ve never thought of my actions as meaningful. I actually found them quite selfish. I lost a lot of my life, at least, I lost a very particular piece of it.”
He looked down at the crow, bent down slowly to pick it up, and flung it through the trees. He stood silently for a moment. I thought he had something to say. But it seemed more apparent he didn’t want to say anything. I waited. I tried to change the subject before he felt the need to say what is probably best saved for another visit.
“You know, in many games I like to play, I mean the ones I always get into, I find them all a very selfish experience. I play a lot. And maybe ten percent grab my attention. But it’s not selfish because I’m a jerk. I’m not ignoring or forgetting parts of my life. I think what happens, in a good game, is that the challenges that are created for me, drive me to meaningful action. I’m not just shooting my big gun anymore. I’m saving the universe. And when the story is told and I have friends and companions in my game, I feel responsible as if I need to complete their story too. If I am not the hero they all die.”
“But how can games always create those experiences do you think?”
“Well, maybe not all games need them, but I think when the challenges are thoughtful, when there is a reason my decision to save the world or upgrade my weapon is possible, the designer as done there job. And when those actions are provided, the game keeps you there in the story ready to discover what’s next. Maybe now I can believe in saving my companions and finish their stories because I’ve discovered that I have to.”
Prometheus seemed to agree with me without saying a word. He didn’t argue or question what I had been saying. He now fingered his gifted bow. When we glanced up at the orange sky he let out a quick exhale as if he thought of something funny. But I think he had just realized something he was still not ready to tell me.
“Sometimes I think our challenges in real Iife are brought up not because we are bored, but just to force us to forget our boredom. Like an evolutionary reflex to not let our brains stagnate. And if we act bravely then whatever changes or whatever we may lose can’t be for nothing.”
“I’m glad we talk about games Ben. I think I’m more inclined to believe that it isn’t life that is a game, but games that show you what else is happening to your life. Sure there’s no aliens, but games are your rehearsal, your created myth. I do not regret stealing that fire. I’m glad I did it.”
“See! What are stories for? Like you said, the fire was our spark. Man’s creative material. We wouldn’t have games without you. Maybe we wouldn’t know ourselves if we didn’t have the faculty to play. For whatever that’s worth.”
I walked down the mountain through the darkened canopy of pines. I didn’t feel afraid walking through the forest so late. Somehow I felt as though I could see better down the trail. I couldn’t prove it, but I’m sure Prometheus had something to do with it. The whole way down I could have sworn I heard a body’s swift swooshes though the tree tops, catching branches, keeping an eye on me.