What do I think about when I play PowerWash Simulator 2?
Imagine my far-flung ancestors, sitting around a fire, speaking in a primitive tongue, and dreaming of the stars. Picture them, with their dirty, hairy bodies and bruised feet from endless walking, rising in the morning and praying to a deity they hadn't named yet, hoping the weather would be calm and the berries would be plentiful. See them as they emerge from their caves, having left their cryptic markings, stepping out into a world unfettered by industry and tower blocks and car parks and multiplexes and shopping malls.
Think of my medieval forefathers, scrounging around in the muck with dirt under their fingernails at the behest of some faceless king, having buried the latest of their offspring that would never grow old. Try to perceive what their faces might look like as they face the daunting prospect of a poor harvest yield and the consequences that might bring. Witness their horror as they realize that nothing will ever change for them, not unless the sun itself, which hangs wearily in the sky every day, suddenly stops shining.
Flip the page further still, to the grimy streets of Middle England in the Stuart era, with my toothless progenitors, pale and sickly, and their endless toil at the hands of an emerging class of sycophants and barons. Living, just barely, in a world of disease and dysfunction. Visualize their mottled hands as they tear apart loaves of stale bread, wanting only for meat and fish and a bright light to greet them when they one day lie down to rest their weary bodies for a final time.
Turn and face my distant relatives at the dawn of the industrial revolution, with their hearing distorted by the cacophony of steel hitting steel. Whirring. Chugging. Lungs full of ashes, still warm from the furnace. What they must have felt the first time they saw a train barreling down the tracks. A frightening new technology that could tear through the heart of their communities and seduce the feeble-minded into leaving it all behind in search of a better, cleaner life.
Then, summon an image of my great-grandfather, drowning at sea alongside countless other men braver than I could ever be, the salty water filling his lungs as he closes his eyes and yearns for Scotland. Try to grasp the sacrifice that he made so that future generations that share his name could live in a world free of the tyranny and oppression of a failed artist with a bad mustache. His poor wife, back home, coddling a sweet cherub that will never truly know what his own father looked like outside of black and white photographs dotted with distortions and imperfections.
Now imagine that all of them, from the berry-pickers through to my ill-fated great-grandfather, are looking back at me, playing PowerWash Simulator 2 on my Nintendo Switch 2. What would they think? Could they even begin to process it? I can't stop thinking about it. The plight of endless generations distilled into a single moment, as I try to keep my eyes open for long enough to blast the last of the digital dirt on a billboard that doesn't exist in a desert that isn't on any map. It overwhelms me.
And still, I sit here. And still, I wash.