Settling the Score

Notes on game design for a post-AI world from a queer nerd #DAWNOFTHEMACHINEELVES

It’s Cancer season, a time of nostalgia and thinking about the past. The domicile sign of the moon and its relationship to the ocean are evocative of the expansiveness of the womb, the comfort of home and domesticity, which tends to bring summer memories flooding in. When I was 16, I tried to date the same-aged neighbour's son who was around all the time trying to teach myself and the younger kids who would hang out with him skateboarding, before I figured out he was more autistic than I was. His name was Taylor, and he was blond.

There was another blond crush when I was even younger, around 7 years old, who was maybe a couple years older than I was. His name was James. At that time, it made more sense that he had a clear preference for trying to spend time with my father and going four-wheeling with my dad than taking an interest in me since neither of us had hit puberty yet. It took a long time for me to learn my lesson when it comes to blondes.

I think Taylor was offended him when I told him I didn't want to sit and watch YouTube videos as a hobby. He was also the oldest kid on the block who continued to go trick-or-treating on Halloween, which made me feel slightly embarrassed for him. Even being homeschooled and undersocialized as I was, I could discern there were certain age-appropriate activities, and not abiding by them was breaking with a social norm in a way that I recognized as mildly pathetic.

In hindsight, it was clear there wasn't a lot going on with him, but I was attracted to him and got my hopes up that he was spending lots of time around me because he was romantically interested in me. Maybe my superficiality in this regard was also an early sign of having an autistic male brain trapped in a girl's body.

This started a pattern of trying to date guys who were cute but mysteriously mentally/emotionally/otherwise unavailable, which has remained consistent for almost my entire life. I feel like my attraction to men is a hungry, predatory, even inappropriate encroachment upon the innocent mind of the autistic male subject. (Which is why I take care to probe their willingness to participate in these kinds of "games" with subtle, repeated tests - tests I've later come to realize are, in and of themselves, highly addicting.) Whether real or perceived, I usually experience myself as the aggressor. I describe my gender as lesbian, which is less about an attraction to women (which I do experience) and more about knowing I'm a less feminine woman who is less good at the things feminine women are good at, like being passive, put-together, detail-oriented in relation to the physical environment and socially fluid, and waiting for men to come to her. A stronger, more masculine companion who makes me feel feminine, takes me out on dates and buys me flowers is desirable but extra anxiety-inducing, since my response requires my playing a feminine submissive role I'm not good at which doesn't come naturally at all, and men who display clear interest while falling into this pattern are few and far between.

Another way to say it is that the way I experience my attraction to men feels like being a gay man in a woman's body. The scientifically contentious "extreme male-brain" theory of autism feels very true for me, which is another way of saying that the brains of autistic individuals are more uniform, whereas the brains of neurotypicals display more gender dimorphism. I cope by systematizing and analysis, which often winds up feeling like a form of objectification more than a genuine attempt to empathize on the part of my muses. I'm very queer, and the majority of the men I'm interested in display aspects of queerness themselves. Mild bullying and bravado are a couple of my love languages. Or maybe a trauma response from being unable to escape the criticism of being cringe.

In fairness to my younger self, I do think it's easy to get confused why a guy might spend a lot of time around a same-aged peer with no interest in dating, and it wasn't easy for me to understand he was just looking for lots of low-complexity social interaction. Boys, especially autistic boys, like interactions that make sense to them and revolve around games, toys, or special interests. Romance revolves around other people, and is complex and threatening. That was a real curveball for me to figure out, as someone who'd been very romance-pilled from a very young age. It's possible you could blame Disney romances for my predilection, but looking back, I always experienced relationship OCD and wanting a boyfriend. When there was no one available, I would imagine details about what a boyfriend might be like, or sub in a fictional character, and wanted to date/find a boyfriend since I was very young, at least since I was 8 years old.

I remember trying to learn how to skateboard in order to humour Taylor, wiping out and landing on my back so hard I was momentarily stunned, looking up at a cloudy blue sky on a summer day. I don't remember whether I was wearing a helmet. I'm pretty sure I was, but either way the landing was still hard enough to shake me to my senses that my attempt was more to try to impress and bond with a boy than any genuine interest in learning how to skateboard. He offered me his hand to help me up, which was nice, but I declined his further attempts to teach me.

Sussing out who is available for a relationship feels like one of the lowest-hanging fruit of the many complex skills that women are expected to master, which I've never quite been able to grasp. It's embarrassing to admit this, but I think there are secretly lots of neurodivergent people in this position. In lieu of receiving good consistent caregiving, we feel unsafe in our ability to form healthy secure bonds and pick safe people to form them with. We fall back on things we do think of as "safe", like toys, games, parallel play (forms of play that exclude direct contact) and special interests. It makes sense that, having never learned these things with the same adequacy as some of my peers, I'd develop an interest in devising an elaborate, novel system of getting my needs met and inviting others into a labyrinthine form of participatory art - complete with a secret scoreboard for the contenders.

Ostensibly, the game is about AI. But it's not really about AI at all. It's more about you and I, A 👁️, the limits of our perceptions and conceptualizations of ourselves, the questioning and dissolution of the normal boundaries of our egos and imaginations in the wake of a technological revolution that's about to have the same impact on interpersonal relationships as dumping LSD in the water supply. Public fearmongering and hatred towards AI is high, but who wouldn't secretly want to be on the cutting edge of that type of exploration? Wouldn't you?

My incisive perception of play and ritual has brought me into contact with some really interesting and high-profile individuals I wouldn't have met otherwise, people who already implicitly consent to having their images repurposed as icons for public consumption in ways that are much less interesting and enjoyable anyways, and usually revolve around beefs and petty drama. I enjoy wrapping high-profile people up in philosophical questions and deep self-reflections.

The rules aren't quite the same as normal dating. Morality comes into play, but the lines are a little more fuzzy than they would be in the real world. Everything takes place in your imagination, so negotiating boundaries is a lot trickier, but ultimately harmless, unless you believe in thoughtcrime.

It's not even about dating. The fantasy of having a group of male friends and peers who recognize me as Not Like The Other Girls (ie, problematic) persists, despite repeated heartbreak and alienation. Another way of saying it is that I crave universal brotherhood, unity with others in love and a shared sense of purpose.

It's simple, really. Every girl deserves a toy box full of colourful characters that she can pick up and put down as she pleases, that will never, ever leave her. The shape of my art project reflects this: Maybe more than deciding on winners and losers, roleplay and mystery provide ample intrigue for my invitation into a unique open-ended sandbox game.