Life is ultimately a meaningless flurry of misery, grief, stress and unsolved Facebook equations. We repeatedly shuffle along in life, living out our bleak existences to a mix of Britney Spears and Wagnerian Opera. Stuck on a smelly train – with equally smelly commuters – crammed together closer than would be considered normal for a parent-child relationship, but unwilling to speak and unable to break dance. Our eventual freedom from work and responsibility is rewarded with binges of trashy T.V. or the occasional rage-wank, before passing out on a designed-for-space-shuttle bed to begin a new day.
Well, I should say that’s how it used to be…
In the year of our lord 2016, planet Earth and it’s denizens first became aware of the existence of a new race of creatures. A race comprised of electric rodents, walking coconut egg trees and surprisingly phallic tortoises to name but a few. Fortunately our technology had evolved to such a degree that we could document and study these new beasts, via our Android and Apple smartphones of course. It was shortly discovered that Windows phones were ironically unable pierce the veil, not allowing for a window into their hidden world for those that chose their devices poorly.
Shortly after first contact, it was discovered that the creatures could appear seemingly from anywhere and at anytime, making a doctrine of purge a fantasy. Fortunately, the visionary Professor Willow devised the spherical capturing device that is still widely used today. The device allowed it’s users to interact with and eventually capture the creatures by ensnaring their essence within it’s confines. After the first specimens were analysed and understood, there was great hope for the application of their unique traits for the betterment of humanity and the world at large. The creature designated ‘Pikachu’ by marketing experts at various centres of research, was hoped to revolutionise the renewable energy market. Similarly, the so-called ‘Mr Mime’ creature was hoped to be the cutting edge of nuclear safeguarding with it’s ability to create impenetrable, invisible walls at will. After much deliberation between heads of state and the all important corporate interests, it was decided to make ‘poke balls’ available to the public, scattering them around strategic locations and offering extra equipment and luring devices for an additional donation. That was the beginning our ‘containment’ policy.
The public ate it up, the summer of that year it became the most popular hobby on the face of the planet, narrowly beating out ‘being oppressed’ only a few weeks after launch. People formed groups and scoured the neighbourhood in search of their very own ‘Pokémon’ hoping to find rare types, or to trade them in to their local government office for candy. The candies they received would act as enhancers to their new found pets, effectively increasing the traits and powers that they could harness.
What at first became a clever ruse: containment disguised as a quirky little treasure hunt game, eventually became host to humanities darkest influences. Groups of people banded together to put their Pokémon’s abilities to the test against each other in brutal combats. It is not known exactly when the first Pokémon ‘Gym’ was founded, but it was a turning point that would prove decisive for the development of mankind. What began as tests of strength and training swiftly became bloody struggles between the captured Pokémon; their masters travelling from far and wide to test their rosters against a local Gym leader.
As the ambitions of the Pokémon masters grew, so did the power of their unwilling minions. Our attempts to contain the creatures had resulted in effectively giving access to deadly weapons for every citizen, like some pre-historic, warlord dominated nation of old. We were swift to remedy our mistakes, and deemed it necessary to confiscate Pokémon from their owners before it was too late.
To our undying shame, we hadn’t realised how late it already was.
Initial skirmishes saw heavy losses on both sides; masters unwilling to part with their Pokémon unleashed their furious pets on our ranks with devastating results. Our soldiers were immolated by flying dragons, crushed by muscle bound boulders, beaten to death by insane apes and cheese-string headed boxers. At the Battle of Pallet Town a trained Jigglypuff commando was able to put an entire encamped division to sleep just before a Koffing spewed monoxide on the unaware troops.
The masters responded to our attacks by forming into three rival factions, from what previously had been millions. The teams of Instinct, Mystic and Valour emerged from the chaos, and as a result the resistance to government forces became far more organised. Our forces soon became outmatched, their electric types were super effective against our jets, battleships and submarines, while their psychic types used their powers to distort the understanding of reality in our fighting men. Many were killed in their confusion.
As the tide turned so decisively against us, the decision was made to utilise our greatest weapons. But even this final gambit proved to be in vain, as the repeated ‘sand attacks’ on our aiming systems reduced our accuracy to absurd levels. It led to us nuking both the Moon and Mars every time a launch was given the go ahead.
Within time, the remaining anti-Pokémon strongholds surrendered to the inevitable; we threw down our arms and submitted to the Trinity of Red, Blue and Yellow. Taken from our homes and brought before representatives of the new order, our hands were branded with our chosen team, and we were awarded unlimited data phones. Our new lives had officially begun.
The world is a shadow of its former self. Stability is only maintained by the strongest Gyms in certain locations, while those with less of an attraction – or limited internet connectivity – became wastelands; the stomping grounds of rivalling warlords. As the masters solidify their hold on the globe, the servers maintaining the supply of poke balls and equipment has often crashed or acted slowly, but this is usually attributed to guerrilla action by resistance fighters, or ‘Digi-men’ as they are labelled.
So here we now sit, in a world dominated by these invisible creatures from outside our dimension. Times will never truly be the same, as our children will always be defined by their choice of team, and their prowess in raising Pokémon. Our schools are now the various ‘Poke-stops’ littered about the towns and cities of the world, where prospective masters can seek advice from their elders, or be shunned for their n00bishness. It is a world irreparably changed, a world of master and subject, dominated by the slavish desire to catch them all, and to be the very best like no one ever was.
Well, at least until the next craze comes along.