We had some friends over yesterday for our Shaun of the Dead movie night.  After the film and a quick perusal of the "special features" on the DVD - which included a funny (but too short) plot-holes section - we started playing Katamari Damacy.  A strange little game from the land of strange little games: Japan.  None of our friends that night are in the game business, and except for one, not really gamers.  After a few minutes of playing Katamari, they thought we had spiked the brownies.

If you've never heard of this game, then you obviously have a life and don't spend enough time reading game-geeks-in-heat web sites.  Good for you.  You probably got here via the "I'm Feeling Lucky" button on Google.  Not feeling so lucky anymore, are you?

I feel bad about owning this game, not because I own it, or paid money for it, but how I got it.

The game's been getting a lot of good press and I spent last Saturday hunting down a copy.  After the third store was sold out, I ended up at EB.  A quick scan of the shelves showed they were sold out as well.  On my way to leave, I spotted a copy behind the counter.  "I'd like to get Katamari" I muttered, nervous over my pronunciation of the name.  The guy behind the register responded "Oh, your here to pick this up."  "Yes" I replied, paid for the game and quickly left.  I have no doubt, 10 minutes later some kid was going to walk into the store looking for the copy of Katamari Darmacy he so carefully reserved.  The last one in the tri-state area I might add.

On the way home, the guilt over what I did was starting to percolate to the top of my conscience.  A quick stroke of the box and chanting the words "mine, mine, mine" quickly disposed of those feelings.

The way I obtained this game is very fitting.

What is Katamari Darmacy really about?  Anyone who doubts that games can contain deeper meaning and be filled with metaphor and subtext should play this one.  The game is not about a little Prince trying to return the stars to the sky.  Maybe at first glance, but dig a little deeper, eat some more brownies, and it all becomes clear.

This game is a biting commentary on our vapid consumerism; our desire to acquire possessions at all cost.  It's about how we can only become whole people through the ownership of things.  Things we don't need or even want.  We just roll over them, adding to our stature and self-worth.

The King who tells the little Prince what he needs to collect and how big he needs to become is just a thin disguise for the marketing machine of the corporate world.  Relentlessly challenging us to become larger possessors of pointless merchandise, stripping the world bare in the process.  At each level of our lives we are told we need more; that we aren't good enough, likable enough, or safe enough.  We need to be bigger.  We need more things.

We start out small, happy to acquire simple objects like paper-clips, butterflies and rubber balls.   Guilted on by the persuasive drone of the marketing masterminds, we feel unsatisfied and inferior.  We now must have batteries, toys, and teddy bears.  Not far behind are cd-players, chairs and potted plants.  We become fat and obese through the blind consumption of shrimp, hot-dogs and ham-hocks.  As we grow older and become more conditioned to the message of the sirens of consumerism, we must have cars, boats and houses.  As the game begins to crescendo, we have all become Trumpists, feeling the restless dissatisfaction of gobbling up buildings, ships and airliners.

Don't be fooled, Katamari Damacy is just an unblinking mirror into our soulless hunger for stuff that we hope will make us happy, safe and popular.

Mine, mine, mine