I donât like âeventsâ. I donât like it when things are limited with requirements of spacial presence and time. I donât like experiences that only exist in one moment and then can never be relived. I donât like ephemera.
I prefer things. Toys I can play with, tools I can use, books I can read, movies I can watch, all at my own discretion. I have agency over my things. The actual lived experience from occurrence to occurrence is always different, of course, but the externalities can be repeated. I love being able to preserve the essence of a thing.
Itâs one of the reasons I like computers. Or maybe itâs a psychological trait I developed because I had access to computers growing up. It probably is, I think. But either way, I love the purity of digital storage and interface. I love having an environment where experiences can be preserved and replayed at my discretion without my having to make any demands on other people.
And so thatâs one of the reasons I love video games. Their mechanics are defined and can be understood and mastered. Their levels are defined and can be understood and mastered. Despite the extreme rates of âchurnâ â video games go out of print much faster than books or other physical media â the software is digital, and can be saved, stored, and replayed. I can look up the flash games I played as a kid and replay them, exactly as they were, and understand myself a little better for it.
Of course there are exceptions; itâs impossible to have a multiplayer game without an implicit demand that other people play with you. When an old game âdiesâ, itâs often not because the necessary hosting software is being intentionally withheld, but that there just isnât a pool of people casually playing it like there used to be.
Thatâs still a loss, and itâs sad, but thatâs an unavoidable reality, and itâs not nearly as complete a loss as a one-off event being over.
So I donât like when games force seasonal events on me.
Limited-time events introduce something new, but they also necessitate the inevitable loss of that thing. And that assumes you were playing everything from the start; events introduce content that can be âmissableâ in a meaningful way, so if youâre werenât playing the game at the right time, even if you own the game and finish everything you can access your experience can still be rendered incomplete.
One of the things I like about games is that theyâre safe, and the introduction of time-based loss compromises that safety.
That constant cycle of stress and pressure to enjoy things before they were lost is one of the main reasons I stopped playing Overwatch. I realized the seasonal events in particular werenât good for me; they turned a game that should have been fun into an obligation that caused me anxiety.
But Iâve been thinking about this lately not because of Overwatch, but because Splatoon 3 is coming out soon. Splatoon isnât nearly as bad as all that, I donât think itâs deliberately predatory aside from Nintendoâs standard insistence on denying people autonomy. Splatoon 3 invokes that âpeople will stop playing Splatoon 2â loss, but even before that, Splatoon (a game I love) left a bad taste in my mouth because of its events.