It is a concept we are all extremely wary of. We each have an individual and unique aversion to fear that seeps into, festers, mutates and takes up residence in the darker parts of our consciousness and subconscious. Nothing inspires fear more than the unknown and the unknowable. Playing with the void can drive you insane.

Some may note the attractive, romanticized and optimistic exterior of the Katamari Damacy series. But don’t fool her or try to fool her! These games are an anthology of cosmic indifference and omniscient ambivalence, far beyond our understanding of our futility. That we are insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But compared to any concept of the observable universe we can imagine, we are but atoms on a dust grain on a grain of sand. We are merely subject to the whims of unimaginable forces…

And so the King of the Universe becomes completely drunk with heavenly drunkenness – and he is a drunken, crazy Magaluf boy, who ends up destroying the entire universe except for one Earth (and maybe the Sun too).

Of course, it’s up to you, the son of the King of the Universe (Prince), to put an end to your father’s galaxy-destroying drunkenness. Before you step onto the Earth’s plane to clean up all this mess in the Marie Kondo way, let’s acknowledge this: aliens exist in this universe, and they are an omnipotent race of super beings, capable of leveling entire star systems. Moreover, these extraterrestrials with baguette brains use the Earth as their personal little living space.

As the Prince, you are thrown from heaven to earth and given the task of removing the trash from the world using a snowball magnet on a garbage pile. Anything to construct a dense enough ball of junk and shape it into a lone star on the blank canvas that is the night sky (thanks, Dad).

This alien technological marvel is commonly referred to as “Katamari,” which roughly translates to “lump” or “floating rock.” But the official title, Katamari Damacy, hides a disturbing truth for those unfamiliar with the Japanese language. Damacy or “Damashii” is another spelling of the word “tamashii” meaning “soul” or “spirit”. So the term “Katamari Damacy” roughly translates to “cluster spirit”. Does it mean hoisting ghosts?

This can be understood in two ways. In Japanese folklore, “Yokai” can be explained as supernatural beings (i.e. monsters or spirits) that can possess objects, living things, and even the environment. Shinto and Japanese spiritualism in general have a basic ideology that embraces “animism”. The concept that all things are inhabited by some kind of spirit, whose presence can bring good fortune or misfortune depending on whether the spirit is peaceful or vengeful.

It’s a mindset that values ​​everything we own. Look at the consumer culture we find ourselves in today and how much we own, barely use, collect and throw away. It’s no wonder we don’t value enough the things that are useful in life; people, places, things, titles that shouldn’t be so easily replaced. Rather, we see our purpose in having more than just filling a void within ourselves.

And just like in the real world, in Katamari Damacy we don’t just collect trash or general items. In fact, we collect plants, trees, animals, personal possessions, houses and buildings, islands, and even people. Are we humans only living in Katamari Damacy? Do we value what we have accumulated through mere contact and touch? Is the ball we roll an extension of our ego that keeps growing, inflating so much that it dwarfs our true self (the prince) who must strain to push this rock until our time ends and we are finally judged?

Or do you mean souls in Katamari Damacy, reaping the souls of life on Earth? Are you the harbinger of a mass extinction, a jubilation disguised as a makeover of the sky? Is this the price we humans have to pay to solve Prince’s paternity issues?

Because boy! There are a lot of daddy issues here. Your father is a narcissistic, immature, impulsive, self-centered megalomaniac who doesn’t take responsibility for his actions and is only trying to abuse and control his only son, all the while trying to get in your way and bring you down in a desperate attempt to make himself more accessible. Down to earth. Think of “The Devil in Lycra (and a neck brace)” with as much self-awareness as David Brent/Michael Scott from “The Office”, but remember for a second. He’s basically a god too.

A god very similar to ancient Greek mythology. These are gods who, though they play with humans for fun, sometimes ruin the earth so badly that they have to send a few children to Earth to compensate for their misfortune. And just like in the ancient Greek myth, the burden falls on our dashing two-inch little prince, who is destined to roll this gigantic ball. It is not dissimilar to the fate of Sisyphus, who rolled his boulder down a mountain for all eternity.

The story mentioned above has another horrifying horror that haunts the psyche, but it can also be seen as somewhat inspiring in its absurdity. In a fable about a man sentenced to perform an arduous and unnecessary feat for all eternity, philosopher Albert Camus suggests in his essay “The Myth of Sisyphus” that Sisyphus may be content because his new life has a meaning and a role and a goal. The absurdity of the impossible task does not upset him, but rather instills in him a new respect for life and a desire to enjoy it to the fullest.

Perhaps he wanted to finally condemn his son, the Prince, as a sacrificial lamb by repairing the night sky and atoning for the sins of those who polluted the world with trash. He wanted to cleanse the world of material pleasures and create something new in heaven…

In the sequel, We Love Katamari, we witness life after the first game. With the galaxy restored, all the recognition and appreciation of Earthlings is now directed solely at the King of the Universe – despite the fact that he caused the problem in the first place and did almost nothing to solve it. The Prince was just a servant, a simple man, another cog in the wheel. All your efforts up to now have only served to encourage your father’s arrogance.

The real work is done. You were at the bottom, rolling up your sleeves like a Katamari Damacy item, while THE MAN, the face, the frontman, took all the credit. Meanwhile people want a sequel, regardless of the outcome or the reason. And then you get sent back to push the stone up the hill for an encore. That’s an all-too-real fear in itself.

A cutscene in the second game also gives us a glimpse into a pattern of paternal abuse. We learn that what we experienced as the prince was passed down to the king by his grandfather. Unaware of the parenting techniques his father taught him, the king teaches his son the ancestral rituals that convey royal dignity. As even gods imprint their own imperfections on their creations, the king too continues the cycle of psychological abuse against his kin. As princes, will we break this cycle in the game and in our own lives, or will we continue to twist the thread?

As I was replaying this series, on one level a little girl and her mother were walking hand in hand along a planned route. By chance, the little girl got swept away by my rolling debris, but the mother didn’t panic. She just accepted it and continued on her way. I think she knew that her child had a purpose even after her daughter’s death, and that when the time was right, she could one day join her daughter, like in reverse mitosis… The mother found peace in the chaos.

I’d like to think she knew her place in the universe; that even though we are small and insignificant to an indifferent universe, we continue to find meaning in the meaninglessness of it all. We each have our own little obstacles that we must overcome and control, like Katamari Damacy.

That to create something big (positive or negative) you must start small and gain momentum and fame to be attracted to and consumed by bigger and bigger things. That to achieve that you must become as big as you want to be. That no matter how small it may be at first, if you work hard and pay attention you can achieve monumental accomplishments as an individual. All in the service of fulfilling your potential and becoming another light in your own night sky.

…Or maybe I’m just exhibiting “apophenia” – recognizing vague and elusive connections by ascribing deep and profound meanings to the video games that wind things up.

Perhaps the most frightening thing here is this pseudo-awakening essay on the Katamari Damacy series!