On October 6th of this year, a new game called "Getting Over It with Bennett Foddy" was released. This is a one-person game. You play as a man sitting in a huge pot, who appears to be nude from the waist up, at the very least. All you can see of him is his torso, and the rest of him disappears into the pot, which appears to be full of some kind of liquid since it sloshes when it moves. He never speaks.

One of the many interesting things about him is the giant rock climbing hammer that is always in his hands. You are unable to drop this hammer. The point of the game is to get up the side of a mountain using only the hammer. The mountain is not a normal one. It starts out made of rocks and progresses to construction equipment, bookshelves, and cabinets, and at one point what appears to be a summer cookout. It occasionally becomes vertical or has bits of it that stick out past your head that you have to swing yourself over. You control this game with a mouse.

If it wasn’t already blindingly obvious, this game is sanity-ending frustrating. There are a million ways to fall all the way back down to the very beginning at any given point and no real shortcuts. If you fall, you have to spend the next hour or two trying to get lucky enough to get back to where you were.

There is commentary accompanying some of the game as well, by Bennett Foddy. He makes some good points about the nature of the internet and its culture, the creation of art in the modern age, and occasional forays into some slam poetry that always catch you by surprise.

However, I don’t think there is really any need for his commentary, except for the sound of his voice being vaguely soothing. I think his game speaks for itself.

Being a man with no visible legs (or better yet having them, but not being allowed to use them), trying to get up a mountain of insanity using only a rock-climbing hammer for an unknown reason and constantly being in danger of falling right to the bottom feels like a pretty good metaphor for life.

You do a lot of it for seemingly no reason, or you do something and only later find out there was absolutely no reason for you to do it. You often have options that are available to you but are unable to use them (i.e. taking a trip is a physical possibility for everyone, but not many people have the means or the schedule to be able to). Often it feels like the tools you have learned to get through life are totally inadequate and even humorous in comparison to what you’re being expected to do with them.

It is a ridiculous task, a pointless task, a task with no discernable point or end goal, but for some reason, you keep doing it. Maybe it’s because the feeling of finally getting up further than you’ve ever gotten before is worth it, even if you know it just means you’re going to fall all the way back down again at some point. Maybe the mountain in front of you inspires you, makes you want to rise to the challenge and be one of the lucky few who can say you have beaten this game. Maybe you just like the mechanics, the interest of constantly having to manipulate the controls to fit what you need at that very moment.

Whatever the reason is, most often you just keep trying because you can’t seem to stop. It’s nonsensical, it’s infuriating, it’s often stupid and totally pointless, but you can’t let it go, and after a while, you don’t notice much of the insanity. You become immune to the fury and the pain and the sadness surrounding all the possibilities and reach a state of peace. You have experienced so much of the same things for so long, all while trying so hard, that you no longer feel the setbacks quite so keenly. You begin to expect them.

I don’t know that very many people reach that point, either in the game or in life, but I think that is the kind of zen we should all try for. I know there are some people who can’t imagine what I mean, who always find meaning in their lives and find a way to make things look much sunnier than they might seem. I admire that.

I also know, however, that there are people just like me, who look at the world repeating itself over and over and wonder what the point is. Not morbidly, though perhaps occasionally when final papers must be done or you’re working late on a Friday for the third time this month. Just in a confused, worried sort of way. What should I be striving for here? What is there to gain? What is the end game?

I think the real takeaway here is that there isn’t always a takeaway. There isn’t an ending goal or anything to gain. It’s something we do because it just is, and it doesn’t matter why. The why doesn’t matter. It’s the how in the moment, the constant figuring things out that is the only thing that anyone can hold on to. It’s the getting over it.

Getting over it is a skill. It’s a lifestyle, a mantra, a feeling of relief. It is something to be strived for and something that can be an end goal. In not having a reason to finish the game and in trying to anyway, you find the reason. In getting over it, you finish.