Take Control

So here’s a bit of an all-over-the-place-within-the-yet-unknown-grand-scheme-of-this-blog-so-I-guess-it’s-all-good topic: video games. The video game “Control,” to be exact. Just finished it yesterday, and, yes, if you’re privy to said entertainment world, you’ll note that this is coming years after its release. 

No, I’m not going to ramble a review about its gameplay, which, si, was grand and gratifying, I’m going to ramble about all things symbolism.  

I guess that’s a big aspect of this blog, right? I’m still trying to figure it out, but onwards I type. 

It’s all about Jung; Carl, that is. The late, great Swiss psychologist and social outcast from the psychology O.G., Sigmund (who may have wanted to fuck his mother and was just projecting). 

Carl Jung — toolshero.com

There are heavily redacted notes early in the game from within an FBI-esque organization detailing things such as the collective unconscious, as popularized and delved into by Mr. Swiss. The collective is basically everyone’s unconscious thoughts swimming together in a spirit pool whether they know it or not. To consciously get there, from what I’m understanding about Jung, one must delve deep into their unconscious mind on the regular, dig up the layers of thought that have likely been repressed and are now making themselves manifest in the physical stratum of reality before one can reach the ore. The ore being one's Self, free of shadow. One does this by facing one’s shadow, which essentially means looking at and making sense of those repressed parts. 

Why would someone repress something? Well, likely it’s too painful to look at, or too complex, or both. Complexity can certainly heighten pain because confusion is then thrown in. Hence, therapy can take years. Plus, one may not have the time nor the energy to deal with the ripping of the band-aide, thus one can opt for ignoring the hidden dragon, ignorant of its slow poisoning of the mind, and therefore body, and therefore entire life. 

This is still related to Control, don’t you worry. 

Control — from wallhaven.cc

In the game, you’re a woman named Jesse seeking her estranged brother, who went missing 17 years back, and she believes the Federal Bureau of Control has him. It's Jungian (and really, Campbellian; as in Joesph) because she has to confront this place from her past to reach her brother, who it seems like she feels she let down. He’s gone insane, telling himself some weird positive affirmations while idle and floating in his cell to get by. 

In fact, the game has hundreds of Bureau employees floating around, telling themselves these affirmations day-by-day-by-day-by-day-by—

And then there’s the final stretch of the game, when, after Jesse seems to have succumbed to the same looping positive/stunting self-talk that her brother has, she sees herself as a menial fetch-type employee working at the Bureau, getting talked down to, instead of being the company’s director, which is what she’s supposed to be. 

The director is symbolic of one who is in control of their mind. 

How does one gain control over their mind? 

They face their shadow. Shadows faced are shadows erased. To bring light to the darkness is to defeat it. The light is necessary for us humans to see what is hidden, the shadow. Bats, if they could/do tell stories, would have symbolism that’s a lot more sonic. Humans illuminate to see. To be enlightened means one has brought light to the inner darkness. 

Jesse does this by cleansing “control points,” thus purging the surrounding area of red corruption and enemies known as Hiss. Which are really just demons, and demons are like one’s suppressed thoughts coming up to haunt them. 

Come to think of it, that’s all horror movies really are, manifestation stories of the inner coming up to haunt the outer. The Shining, for example, is all about alcohol withdrawal. 

Holy shit, that’s right, isn’t it? Jack Torrents’ wife mentions his drinking problem once or twice early, possibly when talking about how he abused their young son. And then he goes full crazy when he imagines/sees a ghost of a bartender giving him drinks.

Abusive, alcoholic fathers were a real problem around the era in which the movie was made. Stephen King, the book version's author, was also an addict, I believe. 

Jack

Anyway, back to control. 

Perhaps there’s too much to get into here. I do have a novel to edit. 

Let’s maybe go through the list, rapid-fire. 

Jesse, towards the end, frees an entity from its prison within the Bureau, and this entity is the guiding voice in her mind, named Polaris. 

After that, she cleanses her brother’s mind from the red void (he ends up in a coma). 

After that, she accepts her role as director of the Bureau. 

A classic tale of delving into one’s unconscious, freeing their connection to the collective, which may very well be what we call intuition (in this case, symbolized by Polaris), thus empowering them to help others, thus becoming a worthy leader of others and Self. A true director.