“I’m going to pick up my Nintendo Switch pre-order after work today.”
“Yeah, I didn’t get a copy of the new Zelda game with it though. So I ordered a copy on Amazon.”
“Yeah, the new Zelda game is supposed to be the best game ever. Or at least that is what people who play games for a living are saying. I’m excited.”
Why is the videogame hobby so much about having the new thing?
I get that hype, limited inventory, and being a part of the console honeymoon conversation are all reasons to buy in early. I get that. But why does so much of gaming feel like a bragging contest? A game of Cold War one-upmanship. Except between fellow gamers instead of The United States and Russia.
Consumerism is a social and economic order and ideology that encourages the acquisition of goods and services in ever-increasing amounts.
Gotta Catch ‘Em All
Even as an adult, I feel pressure to have the latest gadgets. I don’t even want a Switch–I think it’s best to wait awhile–and talking to my co-worker this morning made me feel envious. Hyped even.
And if I feel that way, how does my kid feel when it comes to stuff? How am I supposed to parent in a consumerist culture?
My Name is Mahtob is written from the perspective of the daughter from the book and motion picture, Not Without My Daughter; Mahtob Mahmoody. She shares her memories of how her mother and her escaped Iran and made it back to the United States. Only to live the rest of their lives in fear that her father would come and take Mahtob back to Iran. Her story also included how she forgave her father for what he did and continued to do in her life. She tells of how her mother, family friends, teachers, and the Lord helped her reach a place where she did not hate her father for the wake of destruction he caused.
The recurring theme throughout this book is forgiveness. Her mother, realizing that Mathob was growing bitter, sought out ways to help her remember her father as a person, not the monster he had become. And also showed her that her heritage was not a bad thing, but something to be celebrated. Another recurring theme in this book is the fact that neither Mahtob nor her mother would say anything ill of the man who kidnapped them.
My Name is Mahtob was a page turner from the very beginning. My heart ached for the five/six year old girl who ran away with her mother from her father. I wanted to protect Mahtob, as a young adult, when her world was shattered once again by her father. My favorite part was in the last few chapters. Mahtob is still affected by the abuse her father caused but time and distance has made her realize a few things:
She has sorrow for a father that let his “dysfunction rule his life”.
That her own adaptability was due to her father’s absence in her life.
Her memories of her father were not “distorted” by others.
I thoroughly enjoyed my journey into Mahtob’s life.
I was given a copy of this book by BookLook Bloggers. All opinions are my own. I was not required to write a positive review.
The holidays are a battle. A war filled with presents.
The Christmas list is a list that must be structured to maximize gifts received. I’m not sure what year I learned how much family members spent on me for Christmas, but I did. Strategic planning ensued. I would organize my list so that the most expensive items were at the top of the page. As one would read down the list, the items became cheaper. I would even take this a step further by listing the items retail price. I was a monster, used to three family Christmas events. One with my dad’s parents, one with my mom’s parents, and one with my immediate family.
Sometimes monsters look cute. I mean, handsome.
My Aunt Jody has no children. She loves giving; she loves Christmas time. On the other side of the Christmas campfire, my mom felt the need to compete with my aunt and grandparents. Growing up, she co-owned a craft business with a friend. My mom would spend hours out in the garage, cutting out craft pieces with her scroll saw. She would then paint these items, piece them together, and then go to a weekend craft show to sell. Generating money for Christmas that we did not have. I remember my Grandma and Grandpa Ayers coming out to help her paint and get items ready to sell. The holidays were stressful for my mom. I’m sure she wouldn’t tell you that. I’m sure as a kid I couldn’t have told you that my mom was stressed over having to compete. But she was.
The gift overload distorted my view of Christmas. The season became all about what I could get. I didn’t see the stress it was causing those around me.
My mom has since learned to let go and not compete. But I’m still learning, shaping, what Christmas looks like for my family. I don’t want Wyatt growing up thinking that Christmas is about maximizing what he can get. Sure, maybe kids do that to a point. But I do not want to raise a Christmas monster.
What does Christmas look like for you and your family? How do you go beyond presents?
The boy and I went on another adventure last night. Once again we fought our way through a backyard filled with scary monsters (re: trees). This time though, we came across a new nemesis, the red bow.
Looks all cute and gigantic during the day.
As we walked past the bow, which had somehow been declared a “monster bow” over the weekend, my son started firing his light-up gun at it. “I shooting the monster!” Bam. BaM. BAM! I just smiled, patted his head, and thought, “good boy”.
Papo & Yo is the story of a young boy, Quico, and his best friend, Monster. Monster is a huge beast with razor-sharp teeth, but that doesn’t scare Quico away from playing with him. That said, Monster does have a very dangerous problem: an addiction to poisonous frogs. The minute he sees one hop by, he’ll scarf it down and fly into a violent, frog-induced rage where no one, including Quico, is safe. And yet, Quico loves his Monster and wants to save him.
Last night I downloaded the demo for Papo & Yo on the PS3. I had read a fair amount about how the game was based on the developer’s abusive childhood, at the hands of an alcoholic father, and I wanted to see how that translated into the game.
While the game featured an interesting aesthetic and puzzles that made me grin, I was bothered by the shoddy controls and poor level design. Not to give anything away but the demo ends on a tense note. I literally found myself wanting to buy the game despite my thoughts on its overall design. After going online and reading some reviews, which sadly turned me away from the game, I decided not to take the abusive journey with Quico.
For some reason, perhaps it was the sparseness of the level design, Papo & Yo reminded me of Ico. Ico was a game that I didn’t necessarily love but appreciated. This reminder then got me thinking about how I had never played Team Ico’s other game, Shadow of the Colossus. So, on a spur of the moment purchase, I bought Shadow of the Colossus off of PSN. Hours later, I was playing the game.
Shadow of the Colossus has a NeverEnding Story feel to it. I love it! Will write more soon.