When “Pokemon” was first released in Japan, there was an odd phenomenon between children ages 7-12, particularly in those using headphones to listen to the sound effects. Increase of nosebleeds, irritability, insomnia, and addiction to the game, playing for hours and hours on end and crying to the point of vomiting when the opportunity was taken away.
Roughly 70% of these cases ended in suicide.
In almost every case of the aforementioned symptoms, despite gameplay time recorded to the limit of the internal clock, the game had not progressed further than “Lavender Town”.
A closer analysis of the game revealed a tone in the audio of the music for “Lavender Town” at a pitch undetectable by fully developed human ear drums. Within weeks every unsold copy of the “first edition” the game were recalled silently and the game was re-released with re-mastered audio for “Lavender Town”.
The widely known version is said to be missing three extra tones, as well as the unique, binaural tone of the first edition, although this is unconfirmed due to the rarity of working first edition copies; in the known few that remain, the internal clock and ‘battery save’ have all timed out and ceased function, and in many cases the game will freeze upon entering any battle.
The audio post above is the original file that was heard by these children.
My head is a mess right now. I’ve been so busy I’ve hardly had time to sit down and think about and process everything that has been going on. As a result I have probably been acting like a complete and total weirdo. I have, for some reason, accepted this as normal. In reality, I need to do some self reflection. It’s strange because the past keeps coming back up in the worst and most inconvenient ways, and I spend a lot of my time fleeing from the perilous edge of depression. I feel completely manic, as I often do when I am doing creative work and feeling inspired. The only issue with these manic feelings is the inevitable cycle that occurs with them: manic creation and enthusiasm, doing everything as swiftly as possibly before the spark fades. When the spark fades, all that remains is the dull ache of your empty life that, in the cosmic sense, is utterly meaningless. So you walk around, your life feeling like a thin cracked shell, and you can either crumble or take a deep breath and push the feelings back down.
I’ve been feeling intermittently like I could successfully rule a Monarchy and like I am the most useless cliche uncreative untalented undesirable person who has ever walked the earth. It’s strange and terrible and fills me with existential panic. I move through life with intensity and I often worry that I’ll never find anyone who can match that level of intensity. On the other hand, sometimes I am weary and tired and all I really want is to sleep and be alone and mull things over, try to absorb and sort everything that has been thrown at me and find ways to put it to use. These are the times when I come home, take off my pants, and just sit on the bed, staring at the ceiling fan as it flutters on the ceiling. I open the window and smell the night, the acrid smell of burnt rubber or the cool smell of rain and trees.
That’s all I can really bring myself to write for now, I’m very tired, but this might be valuable to revisit when I am more awake.