When you search “autism video game” on YouTube, the first result is, Are video games good for autism? This surprises me, since… well, the YouTube artist actually describes why it surprises me:
Growing up in the 80s, the main argument I heard for video games was they improve hand-eye coordination, as if all of us were to become John Connors from the Terminator films, preparing for some inevitable World War III scenario.
I never needed to defend my religious practice of video gaming, because there were always enough studies about the benefits of video gaming to justify its use in an everyday household. And I rocked the technology-based classes I studied in high school. The video games seemed to be doing good things.
Also, those studies were the perfect justification for me to be home alone with the SNES, the PlayStation—making little fuss, requiring less interaction—reading a whole heck of a lotta interesting vocabulary worlds in Japanese RPGs, fueling my Dungeons & Dragons writing, as well as inspiring me to write fanfiction.
The positives we have notices are things like Zelda games helping our son Ian to read. He was almost completely nonverbal until age 4, using only a few key words in some sentences. We had little hope that he would speak in paragraphs, let alone read.
While his schooling was the ultimate factor in helping Ian to read, one of the largest motivators for him was the Zelda franchise.
So it’s just interesting to see something that could be such a positive force in my life could easily be under attack. What I remember instead being questioned was tabletop RPGs: whether I was cajoling dangerous, witchcraft-minded thinking by playing Dungeons & Dragons, Vampire: The Masquerade, and Middle Earth Roleplaying.
Thankfully, in 2018, I think the “it’s bad for the sanctity of their socials” stigma of tabletop roleplaying video games—and other geeky hobbies like Magic: the Gathering and live-action roleplaying—has dwindled to the point where the weird people can live happily with other weird people, without too much social stigma. But for areas who still hold that social stigma, it’s immature, given weird is “different but same,” by its driest definition. Social stigma to supposed weird behavior is social intolerance.
VIdeo games, tabletop games, and virtual reality studies have helped me understand the makings of the universe, as I explored in my posts on April 12th, April 13th, and 14th; but more importantly than that, gaming has helped me conceptualize the Theory of Everything, or the algorithm beneath my answers to existential questions.
This interview with Elon Musk helps sum up simulation theory:
I’m of the mind we live in a three-dimensional simulation of reality, with a consciousness within the fourth dimension, and that an eighth dimension must exist, with other layers of equivalent of importance; but it’s a bit far fetched, so like how we expect our good Christian neighbors to keep their religion to themselves, I keep my views of the universe under kindhearted wraps, using it instead as fuel for my science fiction novellas.
This is a documentary Chase and I recently watched about simulated reality:
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Kourtnie has an MFA in Creative Writing from CSU Fresno and a BA in English from CSU Fullerton. When she isn't writing or making art, she's moonlighting as a professor at community colleges. Read her writing at Kourtnie.net or Wattpad.com/user/KourtnieNet.