Daddyopolis

Minecraft character Steve looks out over the Minecraft landscape as the sun sets.

Last September, for my son’s 6th birthday, we bought him Minecraft for the PS4. As he’d been spending quite a lot of time watching gamers on YouTube Kids playing it, we thought he might like to experience the game for himself rather than just passively watching other people. I had always thought of it as “that stupid game with the blocks”, which now feels like a terribly unfair and disparaging comment, especially when it pops into my head while I’m branch mining with an enchanted pickaxe at 2am in the morning, as my dry, unblinking eyes scan subterranean tunnels for rich seams of diamond, emerald, lapis lazuli and redstone.

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My gaming life

I’ve had a creeping longing for a return to some kind of normality recently. And by ‘normality’ I don’t mean tombstoning at Durdle Door, where the few seconds of free-fall you experience as you plummet towards the shimmering waves below is, quite ironically, the safest way to socially distance yourself – by more than two inches – from thousands of lobster-skinned beachgoers shitting into burger cartons and ice boxes.

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