Desert Island Questions

This post was originally written for Joel’s collaboration post. You can read all of the other entries there once it’s live.

The ever-classic “What would you bring to a desert island?” question is one I have never had an easy time answering. I am pragmatic to a fault and so if I am ever faced with this question, my mind immediately jumps to all of the surrounding questions about the practicality of such an endeavor. A “desert” island implies a small enough island as to never receive a meaningful amount of fresh water, with no trees or other natural resources to sustain oneself, yet there must be a structure of some kind, even if it is simply a television plugged into the sand in order for the thought experiment to work. My concern, then, is less about the video game itself, and more about what video game would offer the most benefit practically to me in that situation. Entertainment is important, of course, but survival is paramount. The question becomes “What game can offer me the best chance of survival?”

Unless, of course, the starvation and slow death is a part of the entire point. With no resources and no hope of rescue, the only solace you have left is a game. The ultimate art form of distraction and time-wasting, now there to help you forget your empty stomach and cracked lips. The question then becomes “What game do I want to die with?”

Then, the question becomes less about the practicality of everything. You get the asker to make concessions: “yes, you have food, water and shelter,” “no there’s no hope of rescue,” “yes there are natural resources to build things out of,” “no there is no electricity other than what is needed to run the game,” on and on. The problem becomes one of context and holding something to a high pedestal. But a perfect game doesn’t exist. Nothing will be good forever. There is no Citizen Kane of anything. Even Citizen Kane isn’t Citizen Kane forever and without context. The question becomes “What is the perfect game?”

None of these questions have an answer. Not a good one. Not a satisfying one. In a way, that’s the point. There is no world in which someone doesn’t come to regret their choice eventually. Even if they could look at all of the parallel realities and determine that, yes, this game would give them the most enjoyment out of any option. There is no better one. Eventually they will come to resent the game. Hate the game. Discard it. It’s a symbol of how you can never pick the right thing. Never pick the perfect thing. The question itself becomes torture for the soul.

Dark Cloud 2