Pac-Man is the Reason I Stress-Eat - The 80's #7

 Pac-Man wasn't a video game. Let's be clear about that right from the get-go.

It was nothing short of a psychological experiment under the guise of an anxious little yellow pie chart.

How do I know? Several red flags:

1. You are a mouth, consuming pellets of questionable origin and - from the glow - radiation levels.
2. Colorful nightmares are hunting you relentlessly.
3. No real narrative, explanation, or escape.
4. Eat and run, eat and run, eat and run until inevitably caught and drained of all life force with a spin and a weirdly descending soundtrack.

Childhood fun! Am I right?

The other sounds rewired that childhood. Wakka wakka wakka became recognized as the sound of compulsive consumption.

Danger closed in from all sides, but that noise told you, "Hey! You're doing great. Keep going!" To this day, I hear it whenever I open my fridge on a full stomach.

The ghosts were the ultimate villains. They disguised themselves in bright pastel colors and had fun-sounding names. But they had evil personalities, stalked you relentlessly and strategized constantly.

One always seemed to know your next move almost before you did, like a serial killer who'd read your diary. Another was a diversion. The third one always blocked off your only way to eat that fruit. Chaos for sport.

All of them were meant to teach us something important to teen development:

Some problems can be avoided, some need to be outsmarted, but some named Blinky will just totally harsh your mellow.

Power pellets were circular balls of hope. You felt invincible for a brief moment, but then it was back to running, return to panic, resume eating under pressure.

We were taught that when life stressed us out, there was an easy remedy: eat first, think later.

Eat the dots.

Eat the snacks.

Eat your feelings.

Those invisible ghostly deadlines are always in full pursuit.

Pac-Man didn't entertain us as much as he trained us....