I think perhaps the greatest thrill and the greatest feel of accomplishment comes from what you’re not supposed to do. Every time you break an apparent rule and you get away with it, you feel stronger, smarter; more clever and more brave. All the better if by breaking the rules you are confident you’ve chosen the more true path. Then instead of a nagging guilt, you feel like a bit of a hero unto yourself. All of the fear you feel, all of the over-awareness you face, goes right to your heart. And it glows. The universe is broader than you had been led to believe; and now you’ve broken through that facade. Who knows what else is out there. Who knows what you might accomplish. It’s such a feeling of freedom. It’s moments like that which build a rich life.

And it’s moments like that which, to some extent, build art.

I think some element of this explains why I respect Hideo Kojima’s vision, even if I’ve not played his recent games and I never enjoyed his old ones. It also explains why the standard formula piece — romatic comedy, action movie, war movie, musical, western — in which so many people seem to take comfort — feels like death to me. I do not enjoy such fare because I feel like I am suffocating; like the walls are being drawn around me; like choices are being actively removed from my universe. Just as a book like Catch-22 makes me feel more alive, I feel like I am, to some extent, dying, when I enter these worlds.

I resent that. I don’t like feeling that way. It is difficult to just ignore and tolerate mediocrity; I am too sensitive to dig my heels in and endure. It takes a measure of will and security just not to lash out, but rather to take pity, to take note, and to move on in search for another deviant soul.