2025 – 02 – 20 The Peroxide of Victory

              I usually write my whole journal before I decide on the title, but today, it was the first thing I typed. I just got off from playing Helldivers 2 with one of my buddies from way back in the day in college. He's a good-ass dude, but with the military and stuff going on in both of our lives, I just haven’t been able to talk to him as much as I wish.

              Thankfully, one thing that I particularly love about Helldivers is how great of a job it has done in reuniting me with old friends. It’s been an effortless medium to reconnect with so many mates that I haven’t touched base with in who knows how long. Video games can do that in general, but Helldivers, particularly, excels at it. The satisfying punch all the weapons have, the easy commitment of their half-an-hour-ish missions, and of course, the fanatically patriotic setting (that’s even boosted my morale at work) – it’s a marvel, to say the least. I always remark to Pat about how I’m impressed that every single time I hop on Helldivers, it’s a fun time. I can’t play it for more than a few hours, and the peaks probably aren’t as high as they can reach in games where you have to embrace the suck before you hit things right, but without fail, if I play Helldivers, I know I’m gonna have a good time. In the world of video games, you have to play big multiplayer hits like these while they’re big, because eventually, the numbers die down and servers shut off, so I’m grateful that I exist at a time where such an iconic game can rally seemingly all of my friends while it’s hot.

              Life is more than video games, sure. But sometimes the best lore comes can involve them. Take this buddy and I when we gamed a month and a half ago. It was just me and him. No enemies, just waiting for our ship to come and extract us after slugging out a mission. Then he goes, “Ben… I’ve got some big news.” My curiosity piqued, I start throwing some of the other surprises that have happened throughout our decade-plus of friendship to gauge. “Even bigger than that.” Perplexed, I give in. “I’m gonna have a baby.” WHAT!

              AND THEN. OUT OF NOWHERE. HORDES! HORDES, AND HORDES OF BUGS!! It became one of those moments where you’re focusing so hard on trying to stay alive, that all you can let out are noises. And in the back of my mind, my buddy is having a kid??

Suddenly, everything we did had a new purpose. Every dive, every stim, every grenade, every stratagem – now, we had to get him home to his baby. We fought like madmen, the ominous music documenting every push and pull, and as their numbers had amassed to a critical level, we finally saw an opening – a suicidal dive into the middle of a swarm where our extraction had landed. And we made it! Both of us, our characters living long enough to make it home to the baby. Or close enough, given how expendable Helldivers are in the first place in the lore. But you get the idea.

              It’s moments like then where I truly feel alive. Giving my all to some sort of goal, even as silly of one as that. Finding meaning in life might not be one of those things that always has to be so deep, so profound. Sometimes, it can be just making it to the extract with the homie who just told you he’d having a kid in the most epic way possible. And maybe that’s just what you need to get through periods of hardship. After all, the best way to wash the stain of defeat is with the peroxide of victory.