Tetris!

A Monument to your Failure!

Tetris, is among the best and most popular video games ever produced. It’s popularity has not waned in the 40 years it’s been kicking around and its catchy theme song (based on the russian tune Korobeiniki) and simple addictive gameplay has yet to fade from the forefront of public consciousness. Despite the accolades for the game itself, I find an odd parable to be found in the game of tetris, that very effectively sums up a very specific brand of self defeating behavior.

During Tetris gameplay, a 4 block (tetra, get it?) configuration falls from the top of the screen. It’s the players job to put the piece in the appropriate space by rotating and / or moving to the piece left or right. The object of the game is to fit these falling pieces together in such a way that they form rows across the play area. When a row fills up, it disappears, points are scored, and the entire structure above it moves down accordingly. In the beginning of the game, the play area is empty. Every piece on screen is placed specifically by the player as the pieces fall, and at no point does the game insert pieces or modify the placement of blocks that have already been placed. Rows with empty spaces that cannot easily be filled represent missed opportunities or mistakes made by the player. Ultimately, too many of these errors will cause the stack to grow too large, not leaving the player enough room to maneuver awkward pieces.

What ends up filling the screen is the culmination of all of the players mistakes and missed opportunities. A monument to a failure of their own making. The rows (like goals we’ve reached) disappear upon completion. However, there is no time for reflection, only the lingering pre-occupation on the ever growing pile of things things that need to be taken care of.

Why did you ruin Tetris for me?!

Because, we all know Tetris is a game that’s literally impossible to “win”, but we play anyway. Why is that?

Is it because we can press pause on our GameBoys or our Amigas or our TRS-80s or literally almost any device made since then and look at the score every once in a while?

Or is it because when we play, we understand that it’s a process to be managed (and maybe even enjoyed).

Dealing with problems as they come one at a time may sound like the ideal way to play tetris (or do work), but focusing on only the task at hand can detract from the awareness of the rest of play area. Sometimes in tetris (and in life)_it’s necessary to reflect on the score because ultimately, Tetris is a process to be managed, not a score to be won, not simply a series of falling pieces to be placed or problems to be solved, but a process to be managed as pieces need to accumulate before they can be cleared.