If I want to play in traffic, I’ll do it the old fashioned way: blacked out drunk, trying to get to Taco Bell on the opposite side of a 10 lane interstate highway. It will not be to get to the rest stop bathroom best known for being frequented by transvestite sex workers, that doubles as a Pokestop. And it sure as hell won’t be to capture my 17th Ratatata which I can hand over to that metrosexual Professor to do whatever it is he does with all of those dupes (read: beasteality web cam). There are countless reasons that you should spend your time doing literally anything else besides playing Pokemon Go …
The tech specs …
You can’t battle other people (and this Gym Battling is an Insult to my 10 year old self). Assuming your phone isn’t glitching like the computer of a 14 year old who just discovered Internet porn, the only thing to do is stuff your Pokedex in what amounts to be the electronic equivalent of bug collecting. And call me a Pokemon purist, but swiping left or right to dodge attacks in a haphazard fashion is no Raindance/Thunder combo. Mashing violently on your screen like a short bus riding 3 year old with an Xbox controller (that isn’t plugged in) is as embarrassing as it is pathetic.
The graphics leave something to be desired. And that’s saying something as Go’s predecessor was a 2D pixelated game that used the same computing power as Snake on your Razr. Let’s call the graphics what they are: the beginning of anime porn, overlaid on Google maps.
Apparently the IPhone does not support Game Shark. I don’t want to live in a world where I can’t hack my way to video game glory. I’m a product of the Golden Gun generation.
That data though. Mom isn’t going to be happy when you run through your monthly T-Mobile Gigs by August 3rd.
The logistics …
Not for the Snorlax in all of us. Arguably the worst part of this glorified Google Maps is that it condones physical activity and interaction with society. If I wanted to shed my dad bod I’d buy a FitBit and assume I’d walk myself to a Bowflex body like the rest of ignorant, overweight Americans. Give me a Gameboy Color, some dunkaroos and a bean bag chair any day.
You’ll probably die. No, seriously. You might.
You’re never going to be that good. When it comes down to it, this game is best suited for three types of people: migrant farm workers, homeless nomadic vagrants and retirees. Sorry, we will not accept gypsies as an answer as they are not real people. Just like Halo and and Madden before it, there will be some little Asian kid who will be exponentially better than you … all while telling you that he gave your mom a dirty sanchez.
You’re going to be poor. The light bulb just popped up over someone’s head at Nintendo when they realized they can get you to go ANYWHERE and do ANYTHING to catch a fake Pokemon. It’s only a matter of time until you start to notice that all of the best Pokemon tend to gravitate towards the electronics aisle at Target or the shoe department at Macy’s. And if you’re skipping work, missing Tinder dates and showing up late to grandmas funeral, don’t try to pretend that you’re above spending real money on a Poke ball when you’re all out and have a Machamp in your sights.
The intangibles …
The only lives that matter are Pokemon. The only positive coming out of this Pokenomenon (if you will) is that it’s burying all those social media justice crusader FB posts and Tweets. But it’s a sad world we live in when the only thing that will get white people up off their couch to stand up for something is a cell phone game. Last year’s college campus protests wouldn’t have stood a chance if this existed.
You can’t be a hipster (or a minority). What’s the opposite of exclusively wearing steampunk, maintaining an all radish diet while only using a sun dial to tell time? Pokemon Go is. It’s the most mainstream thing since boozy brunch. As this New World Order takes hold, the new normal is Pokemon, and if you’re augmenting reality in the name of catching them all, then you are part of the problem.
Remember Furbies being Russian spies? Well don’t worry because this is nothing like that situation, unless of course you’re a schizophrenic doomsday prepper like Adam Morrison who thinks Japan has infiltrated our cloud like Bill Paxton in Twister. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.
We’re gonna hear about it FOREVER. In 20 years Buzzfeed will be making lists about it. Aspiring rappers will make songs about it. And bloggers will beat this dead horse into glue. This is the kinda stuff that shapes a generation, the kinda stuff Malcolm Gladwell writes books about. This is Freakonomic’s wet dream.
You might becom these guys. Don’t become these guys. Do you see man boobs and fedoras in your future?
The last word …
I get, I get it, “You Gotta Catch Em All.” But just catching Pokemon is for pacifists and pussies, with all due respect. This cell phone game equivalent of a butterfly net takes Pokemon from Bloodsport to Hot Cross Buns. I miss the days before Wifi and Bluetooth when I was tethered to my buddy in the heat of battle. But I’ve got bad news folks, it’s going to get worse before it gets better. Like a herpes outbreak, it’s only going to get exponentially more disgusting before the the Valtrex kicks in. The good people at Nintendo just realized they have the best smack on the street. We all just got a hit of the gateway drug, and now it’s only a matter of time until we’re sucking dick for Pokeballs and drug muling for rides to Gyms. Just wait until you can battle your coworkers and trade rape randos in public restrooms. Just wait.