We're taking part in boiling a frog. The game starts off blank and peaceful with a single button inviting you to push it. It adds the DVD bounce, which is a nic

We're taking part in boiling a frog. The game starts off blank and peaceful with a single button inviting you to push it. It adds the DVD bounce, which is a nice little charming and nostalgic hit of dopamine. Then you get another DVD logo, which is a nice touch, double the points! Then you get a hydraulic press. Hydraulic press automation. Level ups. Audio. Oh no. Now it's the kind of unending audiovisual nightmare that browsing the modern web without adblock is, and it evolved in much the same way. If you keep playing it -- either to find out what the whole point of this game is or because you are trapped in the game loop by your stimulation-seeking brain -- and you just keep building and building in overstimulating nonsense versions of real-world content until you are presented with the calmness of it doesn't have to be this way. That first wave in the calm after the storm gave me literal physical relaxation: I felt the tenseness of my back & shoulders ease into a slump once the incessant babble of the attention-seeking components of the game went away. I felt better than I had a moment ago. It was nice. And it was, counter to your point, exactly a look in the mirror. Why do I put myself through the wringer on modern social media when I don't have to? All of that to say I don't feel like the message is self-defeating at all. The dissonance is the point. Condition yourself as much as you like to the way things are by continuing to play the game, the peaceful beach is almost certainly nicer. Even just for 30 seconds. Why not get out in nature? Touch grass, maybe, as the kids say these days.