The Undying Lure of the Pocket Monster

of new Pokemon games on shelves, I found myself facing a familiar conundrum. On the one hand, there was the unquestionable desire to play; to collect, level, and explore; to bask in the familiar glow of a growing Pokedex and a troupe of friendly creatures with which to kick the ass of cuddly things the world over. Simultaneously, a curmudgeonly part of the back of my brain was yelling to get that children’s game off of his damn lawn and go do something more productive. 

“Pokemon games haven’t changed in twelve years,” he said with an air of cranky authority. “You played it back then when you were only knee-high to a Charizard. Now you’re grown and out of college and you want to do it all over again? I understand you’ve got a lot of free time on your hands. A return to “simpler” days might sound refreshing, but Pokemon? That’s just desperate. Grow up and go play something for adults.”

I tried to remind him that I actually played Pokemon Diamond a couple of years ago and rather enjoyed it for a while, though I had to give it to a roommate to finish after losing interest. He mumbled a series of indecipherable grunts and the only words I managed to make out were “dang blasted nostalgia” before he trudged his way back into the recesses of my mind and let me stop talking to myself. 

This particular brand of desire is not unfamiliar to me. It is the allure of being drawn into an epic game combined with the excitement of collection and leveling up, growing ever stronger and exploring every corner of a vast world. It’s also laced with that nagging feeling of guilt that comes with believing that I’ve done it all before, with thinking that there must be better ways I could be spending my time.

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