Snap!
There's a game in my phone that thwacks my brain with a hammer, and I'm scared of how much I need it
Since Christmas, I’ve been afflicted with a bad disease. It’s called Marvel Snap, and it’s a little game on my phone that pings and blinks and bonks and makes my brain go completely goo-goo gaga. I genuinely think a scientist managed to simmer down a Pokies machine into a thick treacle and somehow grow this addictive nightmare game from it in a lab. I once watched an old lady piss herself at a Pokies machine when I worked at a pub named “Boyles”, and I think Marvel Snap must also press all those forbidden parts of the brain with slim and sure fingers. Literally while writing this paragraph I took a break to play a match. I have a problem.
One of my enduring memories, which I treat like a huge warning sign to myself, is going on some family holiday in my early teens, where our family and another stayed in a motel in Canberra. We left the day after my birthday, a fact relevant because instead of being excited by the bounty of culture of our nation’s capital (I genuinely have a toxic love for the War Memorial museum) I spent the entire holiday pining for my copy of the classic roleplaying game, Baldur’s Gate 2, which I’d be given for my birthday.
I don’t use pining lightly. I’d had just enough time to install the game and spend a few hours creating a character. I love creating characters. And it was just enough to drive a deep itch into my brain, a sense of mystery and anticipation. I knew nothing about the game - this was mostly pre internet, pre hype and easy access. I don’t know if I’d been recommended it by a friend, or read an article in a physical magazine, or just responded to advertising - but every part of it seemed to vibrate with an almost forbidden allure for me. At one point, I remember reading the user manual that came with the game on a pool chair in the sun while people swam and played around me.
It’s only in retrospect that this is an early sign of the absolute brain disease that I suffer when I become truly obsessed with something. I’ve now played Baldur’s Gate 2 upwards of 40 times through, which is a truly mammoth time sink. But it’s not just that specific game - I’ve famously played Skyrim for almost ten years now. I am so deeply, brain-warpingly obsessed with that game, that sometimes when I can’t sleep, I will walk from one end of Skyrim to the other IN MY MIND, with PERFECT RECOLLECTION, like I am treading the halls of my childhood home, except instead it’s a weird perspective skewed fantasy world filled with dragons.
This also happens with series of books, television shows, the film Mamma Mia Here We Go Again (which I once watched five times in a row on a long distance flight) - there is a switch that when flipped can take my brain from incredibly disciplined, work-focused, to a drooling obsessed monster. And it honestly scares me. It’s my one flaw.
I’ve literally promised myself a six month lost period when I finish writing the two novels I’m working on at the moment, where I will finally allow myself to play Baldur’s Gate 3. I know myself well enough that if I start now, I’ll wake up two years from now with an unmet book contract, an encyclopaedic knowledge of Baldur’s Gate 3, and a smooth empty brain.
Sometimes I yearn for an emptier brain, and it was entirely this flirtation with the void that led me to Marvel Snap in the first place. Over Christmas I drove my dog and I to Sydney to stay at my parent’s house. Basil, anxious and hating change, did not love being in a new place, and quickly became a limpet dog, freaking out if he couldn’t be glued to my side at every second. By the end of the three weeks, I could go for a swim or a walk and he’d happily stay inside, but it was tense for a while. I went to dinner parties and hung out with friends with him in tow, a huge bag of treats and toys lugged to every house like a newly single dad with a baby. Thank god for my friend’s understanding the divorced dog-dad life and accomodating my stink-son, because otherwise I’d have gone insane from isolation. Adding to this was the fact that my parent’s apartment is at the top of some steep narrow wooden stairs, which Basil couldn’t traverse on his own - meaning I had to carry him up and down several times a day to wee or go for a walk. My elderly parents couldn’t lift him to do this (I’ve been doing weight training), which meant that I was basically stuck with him for three weeks. And I was tired. I’ve done multiple jobs, run this newsletter on my own, freelanced, written two books, and I needed a break from it all. So, stationary, bored, craving rest, I downloaded Marvel Snap, because I saw Vic Michaelis playing it.
But as this year flamboyantly trudged along the route of tragedy and horror, I’ve noticed my Marvel Snap obsession isn’t diminishing in any sense, and furthermore, my need for an obsession like this has only increased. There is a lot bad in the world right now - the genocide in Gaza, the Trump administration, and the worldwide pushback against LGBTQIA+ rights to name a few at the top of my mind. I’m engaged in some activism and advocacy work, and I am deeply plugged into the fight for LGBTQIA+ rights, and particularly trans rights, as part of our work in this newsletter. I do it because I believe in the cause, and also because I hate to feel helpless, so I like to volunteer my time and my skills. But it’s also so, so, so tiring and dispiriting. I’ve found myself seeking the sweet phone opium of Marvel Snap more and more - and I’ve felt bad about it. As things get worse, who am I to be selfish enough to take these broken brained breaks from reality, while people suffer? I know that a newsletter can’t do much in the long run, but it’s kinda sad that the funding for the LGBTQIA+ Media Watch Project runs out in a week, right as we settle in for a huge fight for queer rights.
Yesterday I went into the city for a national day of action to protect trans youth, that was organised by The Trans Justice Project. It was an incredibly impressive feat - a national protest organised all around the country by a handful of people, with thousands turning up and a media spotlight on the issues at hand.
I left the event not feeling depressed and gloomy and tired about the state of the world like I have been for the last few weeks. Instead I left feeling revitalised in some way - not exactly hopeful, but perhaps less overwhelmed by the scope of it all. I was surrounded by my friends, and thousands of people. I also left feeling angry, but the kind of anger that gives you energy, makes you fighty. It doesn’t do anything, but I was immediately mean to some terfs online.
I think that it’s not bad to take a break every so often right now - a half hour where I allow my skull to turn into a big soup cup while bright lights are injected directly into my animal brain is probably necessary due to the horrors. But I think that by looking into the void so much, I forgot that engaging with the world can also help, that I should stop smooching the abyss every so often and allow myself to be neck kissed by reality. Hiding in my little game began to feel less like self care and more like flagellation. Reality is a rough and passionate lover, but it’s good to feel alive.
That said, I have played Marvel Snap at least 15 times since starting this essay.
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