From the title, you might assume I’m about to tear into Nintendo’s newest “It Prints Money!” scheme. Not so. I honestly have reached a point where I no longer care. If people want to run around and chase imaginary critters, more power to ’em. I’ve given up on being mad at Nintendo and their associates for not having the courtesy to just lie down and die.
But given the way the game works, and the things that have already happened – last I checked, three deaths, multiple robberies, and the discovery of at least one murder victim – it makes my brain poke at the idea in a different way. Creepypastas have frequently melded gaming and the supernatural – I’m sure most people with an interest in both have heard of Ben Drowned or SONIC.EXE, among many more less popular ones – and the ideas that something encouraging exploration of areas frequently unknown to the gamer while taking photos of things that “aren’t there” overlaid on the “real world” is ripe for morbid molestations.
For example, a ghost-type Pokemon that always evades capture, and seems to be leading our trainer on a merry chase that culminates in the trainer’s death. Or, for a less grim ending, that leads them to an unmarked grave of a murder victim, in either case, finally being “captured” at that moment. Which might, in turn, “infect” or haunt someone else’s game, if the Pokemon were traded or beaten.
Or perhaps, gradually, the trainer notices a lot more tall grass than there should be, but no Pokemon. Weird things start happening around them in the presence of that tall grass. Temperature shifts, psychokinetic activity, awkward mood swings. Looking around in AR mode starts revealing the outline of shapes in those places (and yes, I know the game doesn’t QUITE work that way, but for the purposes of the story, it’ll have to be fudged), outlines which grow steadily darker and more menacing as activity grows more violent, finally culminating in demons, zombies, monstrous ghosts or what have you descending on the trainer to feast while they futilly throw pokeballs at it in a pathetic attempt to ward them off.
I don’t know what makes my brain work this way. I don’t know how to turn it off. I don’t know that I want to. And given my mood, as implied by my previous post, I don’t know that I’d even do anything with it or about it. But just thinking.