For me and for many other kids growing up in the ’90s, Pokémon was a huge part of my childhood. It was the coolest thing ever when I got the Pokémon red Gameboy game for my tenth birthday. I had the cards. I watched the cartoon. There were spin-off video games like Pokémon Stadium and Pokémon Snap that I played at friends’ birthday parties. My friends and I made up a game called Pokémon tag, which got rather zealous at times and ended up in me falling and slashing my knee open on some rocks. It was the first time I ever got stitches.
In adulthood, Pokémon has faded into something thought of rarely but with nostalgia. It is occasionally the source of surprisingly apt parallels. When I don’t think highly of a person who is telling me something to do, it occurs to me that it’s just like when a Pokémon doesn’t want to listen to a trainer who doesn’t have enough badges. Clearly. But for the most part I consider the rabid quest for holographic cards and my awesome team of six Mewtwos (acquired through that great MissingNo. cheat) a thing characteristic of a ’90s childhood, something shared and understood only by people in my generation.
So I was shocked when I recently learned from a younger cousin of mine that Pokémon is apparently still a thing. They keep making up new Pokémon to keep it going. It has gotten out of control. In the beginning, there were a hundred and fifty. That was awesome, see, because you could actually memorize them all, and know their moves and their stats. It was actually conceivable that you could catch them all.
Well, apparently there are now seven hundred nineteen Pokémon. Seven hundred nineteen. Fletchinder? Hawlucha?? What is this nonsense?
Come on, guys. People my age know there are only a hundred and fifty real Pokémon.