DB

One of my many fears is losing control. I am a recovering perfectionist, which means that for the most part, I like it when my actions can directly influence my success in a situation. Is there a test? I can study and practice until I gain a mastery of the material to pass it. Is there a project? I can understand and define the requirements of the project, create plans to produce deliverables, and assemble them to fulfill project goals. Is there someone I have a crush on? I can–

Well, not romance. I didn’t say that I was a good perfectionist. (And really, is there a way to measure whether a perfectionist is “good” or not?)

However, because I enjoy control, I do not typically like experiences that wrest control from me. I don’t enjoy immersing into a world without my full consent. There are ways to alleviate this, of course. I can prevent my immersion by choice, but most of the time I am not choosing actions that would prevent my immersion. You see, to prevent my immersion, I can choose to not engage or not listen to a person or situation to immerse myself in their story. But by default, that’s not how I run. I am nearly always listening. Because I was raised with values to honor other people by fully listening to them, because I am an improviser, and because I am a forever student, I am closely listening most of the time.

It is my value for learning that slipped me into a world that had blurred lines of fiction and reality. I didn’t like it.

One of my occasional podcasts that I give a listen to is the Imaginary Worlds podcast. It’s hosted by Eric Molinsky, who is a public radio reporter and producer, who uses those skills to talk about–well, the namesake of the podcast: imaginary worlds. One of the episodes took a detour to feature another podcast that discussed an imaginary world: Ong’s Hat.

Heavy spoilers for Decoder Ring’s podcast episode covering Ong’s Hat follows.

The Decoder Ring, a podcast on uncovering cultural mysteries, took a deep dive into Ong’s Hat, which is a mix of many things. It was one of the Internet’s first alternate reality games, it was part collaborative fiction, and it was part conspiracy theory. It is part of that blend of reality and fiction that exists both in conspiracy theories and alternate reality games that messed with me.

You see, in many of the mixed media material that encompassed Ong’s Hat, there were collections of zines and recordings that would have intentional distortions to them. These distortions would contain clues, and tell the story of the fictional lost town of Ong’s Hat, which in the canon of the Ong’s Hat game, was formed by a group of scientists to conduct research. In their efforts, they gained access to another dimension, completely transported everyone and the town to this dimension, and in the fiction of Ong’s Hat, it was inevitable that these clues would surface because the influence of the other dimension (as far as my understanding of the work goes, at least).

To honor the legacy of Ong’s Hat, the Decoder Ring took the artistic liberty to intersperse a Ong’s Hat-esque subplot within the margins of the episode. Erin Molinsky mentioned that there were audio distortions in the episode, and that they were intentional, and that they would make sense at the end. It was a half-warning of the intentions of the podcast, but not a full warning. I didn’t know what to expect–hell, I started listening to the podcast on the late, 11 PM drive home after improv practice. It was late, I was tired, but I was also curious. A student, carefully listening…ready to be immersed.

From gentle public radio-esque storytelling, which often feels like a fireside chat, or a soft cafe, or like my home growing up, there were snippets of audio distortions. The subplot, that I didn’t know about. A majority of these distortions were like radio distortions–changes in the static and audio that would be plausible for a car radio. Sure, I was listening to a podcast which was linked by my phone to my car stereo, but…I was in a car. Where I listened to radio (every now and then). I was tired. And outside of those contributing effects, it would have been easy to immerse myself anyway. These aspects–the car, the late night–compounded by default attitude to jump into another world in a way that disturbed me.

With the first audio distortion, which was short, I thought it was cute. Okay, maybe not cute. Maybe a little scary. Who was this that was coming in to this pleasant session of storytellilng? I’m sure they won’t come–oh no, it’s another one. They’re talking to me. Okay, yeah, that’s not alright. I know what they’re doing, it’s admirable, and I’m–I’m turning off the podcast.

I changed to music, and I later finished the podcast after I linked it to a friend who enjoyed horror and who screened it for me first. I finished it after they had screened it, and told me what they thought. I finished it on a drive, at much softer volume (to hopefully prevent full immersion by having traffic and reality be audibly louder), and during the day time. There’s something about night, darkness, and not fully seeing the world around me that makes it a lot easier to imagine another world.

I finished the podcast. It was enjoyable. The subplot shifted perspective and honored Ong’s Hat by providing a picture frame of what an experience like Ong’s Hat could be like. It was not a full engagement of the listener into a fully blurred line of reality, with a confusion of where the game is and is not. Its conclusion of men in black, and the actions and narration of the Decoder Ring crew, did not feel fully grounded in reality or the character of these reporters. More than that, the reporters did not choose to directly address the listener–me. Which is for the best, really. I was already immersed, and if I had been directly addressed like I was a part of this conspiracy, I would have freaked out. The way that Decoder Ring handled it closed the subplot and the episode in a wonderful way that fully separated me from the story.

Okay. The main thing I wanted to talk about was that Ong’s Hat experience. It made me want to look more closely into alternate reality games, and what those are like. And, it made me ask questions about what I did and did not enjoy about the experience. I enjoyed the immersion. I didn’t enjoy that I couldn’t put it down, or compartmentalize the experience in a physical location, or a set aside time, or an agreed upon “portal” to the game.

I like starts and stops to a game. I wouldn’t want to immerse in a game that I didn’t know the boundaries to.

Well, it’s probably because I know that I have the capability to unhealthily engage in a fictional world and in escapism. I have done enough of that, and I’ve enjoyed engaging in reality. Talking with people, being with my friends, and living life. I enjoy our reality.

And I wouldn’t want to taint it with something that I couldn’t walk away from.