Keeping On

With soaring COVID-19 numbers in my home state, I find myself turning to a debate I had with a couple of my friends several months ago about governmental versus personal responsibility. At time of writing, it feels particularly apt. What with many politicians trying to foist the pandemic response on the public rather than actually imposing restrictions or mandates to help ease the burden on hospitals and soothing fears. Sound familiar to many situations across the globe?

But when it was first raised, it was during the extensive lockdown from June 2021 to October 2021. And all of that misery was sparked by a limo driver shuttling air crew from the airport. 

Many people on social media, and even traditional news outlets, had pinned the blame squarely on the shoulders of the unfortunate man. Particularly as they had not been vaccinated and had not properly practiced COVID safety measures such as mask wearing and completing the necessary checks. My friends, however, actually lay the blame on the government. They said that if there had been stricter requirements and controls systems in place, perhaps disaster would have been averted.

Another shining example has also been the father and son duo that spread COVID-19 into rural New South Wales because of the ‘need to inspect property.’ A lie, no doubt. But who is responsible? Some might say the government for not explicitly stating that during a lockdown, such activities should be limited. Others pin the fault on the individuals for trying to find a loophole through the restrictions: of trying to have their cake and eating it as well.

While there’s an argument for both sides, it does put into sharp contrast the way that so many governments around the world, as well as individuals that live in particular countries have reacted and responded to the necessary measures to combat the virus. Recent endeavours have seen many of the restrictions that were put in place to stop the Delta outbreak have seen cases jump astronomically high. The popular political refrain has been that it is now up to everyone’s ‘personal responsibility’ to keep cases down.

As 2020 and 2021 have showed us, however, humans are intent on their own destruction. Without government mandates or public health orders, we are revealed for the self-centred hedonistic creatures that we are. You can’t breathe with a mask but you want to seem like you care that there’s a raging pandemic? Slap a mask on your face but keep it below your nose. Feeling stifled about a government that is trying to look after the vulnerable in the community? Call them out for being a tyrannical and oppressing force, or bandying about words such as segregation and apartheid. As if the choice to get vaccinated was something you’re born with.

Spoiler alert: It’s not. And right-wing extremists don’t get to use such charged words considering the horrors people have endured because they weren’t the right skin colour. 

Sure, you might not be open to getting jabbed in the arm with something experimental, but that’s your choice. Just as it is your choice to put yourself in harm’s way and not reap the benefits of a protected public. After all, how can you visit friends or work in a high-risk field if you’re on a ventilator? I mean, just look at seatbelts. Sure, you can not wear it, get caught and be fined. That’s your choice. But what if you were actually involved in an accident? 

Do death and severe injury not frighten you? Psh. Of course not. You only live once, after all. 

Thank you for culling the herd of humans by crashing through the windscreen and becoming a smear of human paste on the road.

You’re doing your ancestors proud. 

At the very least the gene pool doesn’t have to deal with passing on your stupidity to the next generation. 

Oh wait. 

It probably still will because there are idiots that manage to luckily survive. Or perhaps the world will all come to a catastrophic end when someone pushes the big red button that says ‘Don’t.’ I’m putting my money on that.

Over and over again, we have seen people (and governments) look towards short term gains rather than the long term picture. Why else would humans be at two minutes to midnight and still dawdle on the subject of climate change?

Beyond that, we’ve had to deal with several years of misinformation and conspiracy theories. COVID-19 has always been the flu. The pandemic is a worldwide conspiracy hatched by the elite. Vaccines are actually a way for global governments to insert tracking devices into humans (as if that’s needed. If you have a mobile phone, they could have been tracking you ever since you got it).

Now, while I understand being vaccine hesitant – I, too, was concerned about possibly getting an AstraZeneca jab after the Delta outbreak in Sydney and with Pfizer so limited. The possibility of developing a blood clot had me paralysed. Thankfully, one of my work colleagues was quick to disabuse me of how special I was. 

Yet, in the end, there was a shipment from Poland and I, a twenty-something-year-old and supposedly a person in the age group that is mixing and mingling with others and totally getting COVID-19 and spreading it to others in my household, was finally able to feel a modicum of safety. It’s still a while to go before I’m eligible for a booster, but already I feel the weight of judgement despite my very introverted ways and hatred for the outside world.

On the other hand, we are not mindless drones. The social contract we share means that there are also several freedoms that we, as democratic countries, get to enjoy. And while many governments have seen the challenges that COVID has brought, they’ve also tried to place some trust in those that they govern. Masks. Public service announcements to wash one’s hands properly. To wear a mask in high-risk environments such as on public transport. Staff to be vaccinated, particularly if they work in hospitals or aged-care facilities.

But even reasonable requests have been looked at with ire. Just look at the protests all around Australia. Look even overseas to the United States of America and Europe. 

However, I ask you this. How willing would you be to attend a hospital if the leading surgeon was known to believe that blood transfusions was the work of the devil and that cancer was God’s way of testing you? Would you feel safe in the hands of nurses that were coughing and spluttering, unprotected, as you were wheeled into ER after a horrific car crash? Would there be such a focus on the ‘economy’ if there were brain-eating zombies roaming the streets?

It isn’t as if Western governments have shot people for breaking curfew. There are no checkpoints or armed defence personnel patrolling the streets. The secret police haven’t kidnapped anyone and tortured them to reveal other anti-vaxx sympathisers.

Beyond that, and in the example of the father and son duo, governments are not as omniscient as we all believe. They are fallible. Like humans. And there will be the occasional hole in the measures that they’ve put in place that individuals will take advantage of. Is that a responsibility of the government to come up with incredibly stringent rules and mandates or does part of the blame also lie in the individual for trying to bend them? 

Nothing is ever clear cut.

As the saying goes: where there’s a will, there’s a way.

People will constantly be trying to test boundaries. Perhaps governments should have been more specific about exemptions, or perhaps they shouldn’t. There’s also something to be said about personal responsibility. Western countries have always elevated the individual over the community, but maybe it’s time to flip that script and time to put some emphasis on why individuals should prize the whole over the one.

After all, it should be noted that masks are better served in protecting those around us, should that individual be carrying the virus, than the other way round.

I know this may be heavy stuff to read, but it’s been something that’s been sitting on my mind for a while now. 2022 is now here and I’m afraid that so many of us have not learnt the lessons that the previous years have taught us. Here’s hoping for some actual light at the end of the tunnel.

Parables of Our Times

Right after finishing a very high-octane, action-heavy title, I thought it best to slow down and try my hand at a game that had tickled my curiosity for a good long while. Considering how much I enjoyed Gone Home, Tacoma and The Vanishing of Ethan Carter, it came as a surprise when I finished Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture with very mixed feelings. Instead of falling in love with a quaint English town and the mystery surrounding the disappearance of the people that had lived there, I was tempted after an hour or so of play to stop and try my hand at something else.

I can’t rightly pinpoint what exactly about the game, from developer The Chinese Room, did not sit right with me. After scouring the internet, I feel like it must have been the pace of the game and the lack of objects that could be interacted with. From the very beginning, it felt as if the playable character moved at a snail’s pace. Other titles that might be considered ‘walking simulators’ in their own right felt faster, or were perhaps more dense. Even holding down R2 did not elevate how slow I moved around the world. In fact, the speed was also detrimental to my desire to explore and see more of the town I found myself in. Why bother heading to a particular point of interest if it took forever and a day to reach it and head back to the critical path?

Additionally, the lack of objects that could be picked up and studied also served to dull my interest. In fact, other than with doors and the occasional radio, the only other thing that I could interact with were strange globules of light that required the controller be tilted either left or right. The controls for this, in particular, did not seem very intuitive and the prompt at the beginning did not anchor in my head until I found my third ball of light. 

What I did like were the revelations about each named character and the other individuals that lived in the town. Whether that was Wendy trying to meddle in the love lives of her son and his previous beau (as well as her disdain for his American wife), to the interactions between Jeremy and those that attended his church.

While the conversations proved illuminating when it came to understanding the many different individuals that lived in Yaughton, Shropshire, I feel like it was a missed opportunity that other ways to tell the story were not included.

The mystery behind the disappearing populace – supposedly a sudden influx of Spanish influenza – did prove to be intriguing. After exploring the first area, it was clear that this was something more. The tissues covered in blood and the recording made by the local physician only served to heighten the possibilities of what was truly going on. As the story continues, the player learns that a strange phenomenon may be the actual cause. Fearful, Stephen Appleton calls on the government to spray nerve gas over the entire town to stop the spread of this alien contagion.

In many ways, the quarantine that surrounded the town is reminiscent of our current battle with COVID-19. Locked in our homes, unable to venture overseas or even cross state lines has proven a difficult enterprise for many. And like some of the characters in the game, there have been the occasional individuals that have tried to sneak past borders or lied to authorities their actual movements in order to be allowed sanctuary in another state or city.

Fortunately, we have yet to be turned into dust and sucked up into a glowing pattern of light. Whether it’s meant to be considered an alien or a concept of faith is unclear. What is strange in Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture is that only humans were infected. Birds and cows simply dropped dead. There was no dusting a la the Thanos Snap in Avengers: Infinity War. 

Speaking of which, Stephen feared that the contagion of light had traversed the phone lines and had spread outside the valley where the town of Yaughton was located. If that was the case, who is the playable character? Are we also a ball of light? After all, I had no feet or hands. I hardly heard any indication of footsteps. Yet, somehow, I could still get trapped on random geometry in the environment.  Alas, a mystery to solve another time.

On the other side of the spectrum of games that I managed to finish quite quickly was The Walking Dead: The Final Season. After the whole debacle of Telltale shutting its doors due to unsustainable business practices and the game initially being released on Epic Games Store, I wasn’t quite certain if I would ever see Clementine’s story through to completion. Yet, fast forward a year or two and I managed to purchase it on Steam.

Clementine has always had a special place in my heart. After looking after her while playing as Lee Everett, I had watched as she grew up in a world that was very different from our own. Each subsequent game only seemed to further paint a grim and bleak future for humanity after the zombie apocalypse and I feared something terrible would happen to the little girl I found nestled in her tree house, waiting for her parents to return home.

In The Final Season, several years have passed and Clementine is in her late teens. With her is AJ, the son of Rebecca and a very precocious five year old. He seems incredibly mature for his age and behaves basically like a rebellious teenager. Except, of course, that he still has a very black and white view of the world. Shoot monsters in the head. Food and bullets are good. Clementine is the best.

What felt different in this title, rather than the ones before, is that after an encounter at an old railway station, Clementine is welcomed to a small community that is largely run by kids. Or, at the very least, teenagers that have also lived through the traumatic beginnings of the apocalypse. There are no adults – for many of the teachers abandoned these troubled youth at the first sign of danger. And instead of trying to prove herself in a world full of adults, Clementine is able to interact with people her own age or younger. Coupled with looking after AJ, she is the one that needs to be responsible and make sure that AJ doesn’t grow up to become a completely jaded ten-year old.

The narrative of The Final Season is centred around the Erikson Boarding School and the students there. Leader of the small group is Marlon, voiced by none other than Prince Noctis himself, Ray Chase. Violet and Louis came next in import. Then came Willy, Aasim, Ruby, Mitch, Omar and Tennessee. Oh, and mustn’t forget Brody. Voiced by Hedy Burress (or Yuna from Final Fantasy X)! 

Interacting with this gaggle of kids was refreshing. Instead of suspicion, Clementine and AJ were met with curiosity. While Ruby might not have liked the fact that AJ bit her, or his eating habits, it was very easy to like each character and not have to dwell on what each person’s agenda was and wondering if they would betray the group.

Alas, Clementine’s good deed in trying to find more food leads to Brody freaking out when Clementine mentions meeting a scavenger also looking for food: Abel. The climax of the first chapter ends with the discovery that raiders have previously taken two members of the Erikson Boarding School kids and may have returned. But before Marlon could atone for his crimes, he is shot dead by AJ. Plot contrivances somehow allowed the five year old kid to pick up the gun that Marlon dropped by his feet, sneak up behind him and shoot him right in the head. Don’t ask me how.

The next two chapters proved excellent in building up the tension of confronting the raiders, one of which was Season 1 Lilly. I knew the instant that I had to once again select my choices from the previous titles that she would be making a reappearance. After all, she was a plot thread that had yet to be neatly tied into a bow. And despite everything – like the hardening of Clementine and making her a ruthless survivor – I could not order AJ to shoot the conniving ex-military woman.

In fact, I played Clementine as I did most of my other characters when it comes to role-playing games. Emphatic and desperately trying to make the right choices. 

While the story did feel a little cliched with many familiar beats, I did feel strongly invested in trying to pass on everything I could to little AJ. In that, The Final Season felt like it came full circle with Clementine getting bitten and faced with the dilemma of turning or allowing herself to be killed. Rather than repeat what happened in the first season of The Walking Dead, however, the epilogue shows Clementine surviving her leg been haphazardly chopped off with an axe covered in walker guts.

How did she not manage to bleed out? Did the other kids manage to find her in the barn and free both her and AJ? How did she not die from infection?

Like many mediums that are set after the apocalypse, the humans here are hardy and tenacious. In a world where many of us are struggling with a pandemic that does not appear to be seasonal and with long-lasting symptoms that can affect individuals months after the initial diagnosis, it does feel like we’ve entered a nebulous stage of despair. Whole countries have been shut down, re-opened and sent straight back into lockdown when numbers have climbed. With summer approaching in Australia, it feels like the worst may have passed. But for the rest of the world in the northern hemisphere, winter is coming. With it comes the additional risks of normal flu and cold. 

But what The Walking Dead: The Final Season left me with, despite how glum a zombie outbreak would bring, is that there is still the chance for hope. Of creating a family and living instead of surviving

Even when society has collapsed and most have returned to old bartering systems or looking after their own crops, there is still light at the end of the tunnel.