How Mario Made Me an Addict

When I was younger, Saturdays were TV days. I woke up extra early, grabbed my bowl of Coco Puffs and beelined to the TV to catch the new episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender, all ready to kick some Fire Nation booty. When that ended, I quickly switched over to GameCube and alternated between Mario Kart: Double Dash and Super Smash Bros Melee. I’d usually finish the day with a trip to the nearest Blockbuster to pick up a DVD of either Quest for Camelot or the live action Peter Pan (because once a fan always a fan). I was all about escaping to Neverland or going on a quest to find King Arthur’s sword Excalibur because that’s what kids with imaginations too expansive for their own good do.

I feel like every kid of my generation has some kind of memory like this,(I’m lookin’ at you 90s kids). Where the nostalgia of childhood hobbies comes flooding back into our consciousness. Back when our exposure to video games and movies was a rare treat because it was not yet everywhere. I think this is especially relevant to the kids in the 80s’ to our present day. The concept of Pop Culture was being created and the beautiful video game was birthed. And thus began an interesting dilemma.

At a very young age, we were introduced to high levels of stimuli and our young, malleable brains quickly adapted. Not only that, but the amounts of dopamine being released into our brains was substantial enough to create a biochemical memory; to put it delicately, you became a drug addict. And remain one to this day, thanks in part to our ever shifting, multitasking, media society.

In today’s quick cut, fast edit world, we as a society are rapidly adapting to a constant stream of over-stimulation. So much so, that we have reached a point where we can barely maintain a conversation without our hand drifting to our pocket and weaseling out that handy smartphone.

While I’d like to think that I’m the exception to this, the truth is, it’s really hard to say no to those hilarious cat and dog videos. And hey, when I’m waiting for my bus, it’s quite possibly the best thing ever to be able to lose track of time and dive head first into Game of Thrones fan theories.

At no point do I stop and think, “Is this really relevant to my life?” because of course it’s not. I just love the feeling. And that’s the problem.

To understand our addictive behavior, we must look at possible internal drives that we aren’t consciously aware of. No, I don’t mean going on a spirit trip with Avatar Aang, I mean looking at some possible unconscious, physiological responses.

My compulsive Skyrim playing actually comes from the pleasure-seeking, reward-centered neurons in my brain. When we participate in an activity that engages our fight-or-flight response, our bodies are creating adrenaline. This hormone releases a cyclical response in us that registers as dopamine.

How does this affect me? Well, let’s say I’m playing Skyrim. I’m just running along, picking flowers to increase my Alchemy skill branch when suddenly, BAM! A grizzly bear attacks. In response, I jolt back, I probably knock over my water bottle and I spam all the keys on my key board trying to remember which ones are the keys to get me the heck outta there. This is a classic example of an adrenaline rush. My muscles are now ready to carry me away from my enemy and to a safe place.

But you see, I don’t have to actually go anywhere. My life isn’t in danger, so my body and my brain only register pleasure. I have now biochemically created a memory of dopamine; a pleasurable experience that, by default, I will seek again and again.

And this is our society; over stimulated, always searching for the next high without having to work to get it. We have become so used to the multitasking and the quick fixes of dopamine that we are now creating a society that caters to our body’s biochemical cravings.

So you see, it turns out our favorite princess rescuer and friendly plumber was actually a drug dealer and we never knew it. I mean we should have seen this coming; dude’s been eating mushrooms his whole career (apparently Mario isn’t a plumber anymore, which also should destroy a part of your childhood.) And of course I don’t mean drug dealer in a literal sense, but to some extent it’s true.

Here’s a tip for all you media consuming, multitasking, stressed-out college kids out there; don’t stop what you’re doing, simply question why you’re doing it. I’m sure society loves proactive citizens and the best way to be that is to exercise your critical thinking. And if you won’t do it for our capitalist society, do it for yourself because you deserve to know more about your own inner workings.

So, if you’re ever feeling like it might be time to move past your addiction, maybe the best solution for the time being is to simply engage in one project at a time. Possibly go out and satisfy your escapism needs with a healthy LARPing session at City Park. Or maybe take a moment to quietly contemplate your life’s meaning now that you’ve written Mario into your Death Note and your childhood is now dead.

Food for thought.