LJIdol Week 9 - Counter-intuitive
The arcade game shuddered as the force feedback relayed yet another crash into the wall of the track. John swore continuously as he slammed the two joysticks in every possible direction as hard as he could. The flier careened ever more wildly and the game chassis shook continuously with a string of collisions until finally he lost the race, several laps behind the second last flier.
“This is bullshit!”
John slammed his hand down on the machine and turned to his friend, Mark.
“I can't believe you recommended this game. It's not 'the shit' it IS SHIT. All the controls are back to front. Left is right. Up is down. How am I supposed to play this game? You owe me $2.”
Mark pushes in front of John, closer to the game, laying a hand protectively on it's plastic casing.
“No, bro, you don't get it,” he says earnestly, punctuating each key word with a pointed finger.
“This game is not just a game. It's a test. It's made by the CIA and run by the Air Force to find recruits for - and I don't know which one it is so just bear with me here - EITHER the secret space program or secret military test planes.”
“The secret space program? What is that even? And why are they doing it here in New Zealand? The CIA is in the US. We have, like, the secret service or something. I think this game's just fucked up. Maybe it's broken or something...”
John picks at the edge of the casing by the controls as if maybe he can get inside.
Mark leans in, hands up, explaining.
“It's like this. They can't do it in the US because of all the laws they have over there. They'd get sued for sure. Over here, no one suspects anything, and no one would say anything anyway. It'd be all 'she'll be right' and 'don't worry about it, bro' so it's the perfect place for them to do their tests and maybe pick up some great Kiwi recruits. I bet there's tonnes of great pilots over here that have no where to go.”
“Well, what's the point of the fucked up controls then? How do you get a great pilot if you screw up the up and down and left and right so it's like some random crazy piece of shit... game.”
John slams the game with the side of his fist.
“You still owe me two dollars.”
“Look, the point is that with these new planes - or spaceships, I don't know - the controls are like nothing we've ever seen before. They need guys who can adapt to the new way of thinking and disconnect their body from their mind, so that their instincts don't take over...”
“Whatever, bro. I'm hungry. Lets just fuckin' go. I want chips.”
“Yeah, ok, but I haven't told you how I know all this yet...”
As John and Mark turn and head for the door, the game whirrs once, and clicks twice, but no one notices it.
LJIdol Week 9
“This is bullshit!”
John slammed his hand down on the machine and turned to his friend, Mark.
“I can't believe you recommended this game. It's not 'the shit' it IS SHIT. All the controls are back to front. Left is right. Up is down. How am I supposed to play this game? You owe me $2.”
Mark pushes in front of John, closer to the game, laying a hand protectively on it's plastic casing.
“No, bro, you don't get it,” he says earnestly, punctuating each key word with a pointed finger.
“This game is not just a game. It's a test. It's made by the CIA and run by the Air Force to find recruits for - and I don't know which one it is so just bear with me here - EITHER the secret space program or secret military test planes.”
“The secret space program? What is that even? And why are they doing it here in New Zealand? The CIA is in the US. We have, like, the secret service or something. I think this game's just fucked up. Maybe it's broken or something...”
John picks at the edge of the casing by the controls as if maybe he can get inside.
Mark leans in, hands up, explaining.
“It's like this. They can't do it in the US because of all the laws they have over there. They'd get sued for sure. Over here, no one suspects anything, and no one would say anything anyway. It'd be all 'she'll be right' and 'don't worry about it, bro' so it's the perfect place for them to do their tests and maybe pick up some great Kiwi recruits. I bet there's tonnes of great pilots over here that have no where to go.”
“Well, what's the point of the fucked up controls then? How do you get a great pilot if you screw up the up and down and left and right so it's like some random crazy piece of shit... game.”
John slams the game with the side of his fist.
“You still owe me two dollars.”
“Look, the point is that with these new planes - or spaceships, I don't know - the controls are like nothing we've ever seen before. They need guys who can adapt to the new way of thinking and disconnect their body from their mind, so that their instincts don't take over...”
“Whatever, bro. I'm hungry. Lets just fuckin' go. I want chips.”
“Yeah, ok, but I haven't told you how I know all this yet...”
As John and Mark turn and head for the door, the game whirrs once, and clicks twice, but no one notices it.
LJIdol Week 9