In the early 1990s, a Japanese game designer named Satoshi Tajiri, who was also a zinester, created a game that would captivate the world. This game, Pokémon, was initially released in Japan in 1996 and quickly became a national phenomenon. It was a simple yet innovative concept: a collection of creatures called Pokémon, each with unique abilities and characteristics, that players could catch, train, and battle against each other. The game was designed for the aging Game Boy, a device that was already on its way out, but Pokémon's popularity ensured its longevity.
In Australia, Pokémon's introduction was a bit more tumultuous. It first appeared on Cheez TV in September 1998, and within a month, my life, and that of an entire generation, was forever changed. The opening bars of the theme song, "I want to be the very best / like no one ever was," resonated with me, and I was hooked. But the media's response was less than enthusiastic, and Pokémon soon became a moral panic.
The media portrayed Pokémon as a threat to national security, a vice, and an addiction. They claimed it was turning children to witchcraft and violence, and even suggested it could lead to animal abuse and dogfighting. There were reports of robberies, fraud, and counterfeit Pokémon cards, and old wives' tales of kids jumping off buildings because they thought they had evolved into Pidgeotto. However, the footage of children playing amicably in large groups, smiling at the camera, and excitedly explaining Pokémon's mechanics to puzzled journalists, undercut these stories.
What the media failed to understand was Pokémon's genius. It wasn't just a game; it was a social experience. To catch 'em all, you had to interact, befriend, and trust your fellow players. Pokémon encouraged community and required it. It was a shared, communal experience that linked you to people all over the globe. For me, it made my life in Perth feel less isolated.
Today, Pokémon remains a significant part of the national zeitgeist, attracting controversy and attention. There's currently a wave of hobby-shop burglaries around the country, sparked by the insane inflation of Pokémon trading cards, which have almost become their own currency. Despite the earnest wishes of my teachers, parents, and the Australian media, Pokémon's staying power has proved that the kids were right all along. It is now the single largest media franchise in the world, with countless games, media, toys, a new theme park, and even crockery. Pokémon continues to ask one simple question: do you want to have some fun?
