I failed the violin. I gave it my everything, but it was not meant to be. I learned something essential—that you have to recognize when you’ve reached your top speed. Even if others accelerate past you in life, sometimes that’s all the fuel you’ve got for that particular endeavor. Some people call their ability to... sing, a gift. I am proposing life deals out non-gifts to those smart enough to know when their passion isn't going anywhere. You have to give some things up...
I’ve got three driving simulation games I’m utterly hooked on—obsessed, really. One has an online leaderboard, and man, the scores—your rank—tie you to a mental hierarchy. It’s like dopamine cocktails are being served up on repeat. You go to bed feeling like king of the road, only to wake up and see you’ve plummeted down the ranks overnight. No dopamine hit, no glory—just a silent, ghostly slide into anonymity.
The top 100? It’s a paradigm shift into madness. The legends have squeezed the casual driver out, making breaking into that elite circle an Olympic-level feat. It’s a relentless chase, a digital race where the thrill is as fleeting as it is addictive.
I have briefly entertained the driving spirit of tearing through forests and savannahs in my Subaru WRX STi. But I discovered, to my chagrin, that in driving and navigating unfamiliar roads at breakneck speed, almost always included a fatal accident or two. And you have a co-pilot who reads you the road ahead—you're responsible for his well-being too. Who needs that drama in real life anymore?
I watch videos of pros tearing through driving-inspired tracks, at breakneck speeds—epic bravery, jaw-dropping skill. Imagine driving, as fast as you want, through 32.5 kilometers of forest in Sweden or spending a pure twenty minutes of switchbacks in a Japanese hillside covered in fog! All of it in real-time. In these games, reputation is everything; it can turn your life upside down. Spin out, hit a tree, and your digital soul shatters—at full throttle, no less. Anything less is a waste of time. But here’s the kicker: the real heroes—those World Rally Championship (WRC) warriors—are still "out there", risking it all in the wild, in the flesh. They’re pushing boundaries that no simulation can truly replicate, notably the G-forces of slamming into solid objects. And yet, the thrill of driving at that level—dangerous, raw, unfiltered—kind of steals the spotlight.
It’s so much more satisfying to hit ‘reset’ after landing upside down in a ditch, knowing you don’t have to face real consequences. Imagine waiting for the tow-truck to flip you right-side up, and if it's drive-able, you go finish the race, albeit through the mud-ruining experience. We’ve evolved past the need to chase that adrenaline in real life, haven’t we? Kids are securing international sponsorships for virtual driving stunts they’ll never pull off outside a screen. Stadiums are filled with million-dollar purses for digital daredevils. Teenagers dominate the games.
There is something we give up when we watch a movie or play a video game, it is the willing suspension of disbelief. In 1977, any theatre turned into a Star Wars saga itself, all the kids ran out of the movie playing one or more characters and using anything to mimic a lightsabre. But today the disbelief is characterized by CGI, green screens, and thousands of hours of digital production to deliver the least amount of belief you have to suspend. You don't need a virtual reality tool to "feel" like you are driving down a road or killing stormtroopers. Simulation has sufficiently meshed with reality. My 34" curved screen will be tomorrow's dead tech, and a newer virtual reality portal will open to us. My wheel and shifter are mid-level Thrustmasters, nothing special, but 100% sufficient for the experience. If I was given $1000 to better any element I wanted, I wouldn't upgrade anything. There is nothing I can do to make my gear better of an experience. It is a plateau.
Today’s simulators are so photorealistic, so physics-perfect, that real rally driving—MAN versus MACHINE versus NATURE—feels almost like it is an unnecessary bravery. The danger is all now captured in pixels. The physical realm no longer serves the place to test multiple driving conditions in many different environments, all before lunch... that can only be satified by doing it in simulations. Since the start of the WRC in 1972, there have only been 19 fatalities, including 7 drivers and 12 co-drivers. Compared with the miles driven, this is a small number as these drivers epitomize great driving, still... there are endless compilations of rally driving accidents.
The games reach an objective ambivilence to those of us who will never compare to the machinery in serious online gamers. Their scores and vehicular idolatry is beyond what most people will achieve. It wasn't always so, but it is so now. I gave up my subscription to NoHesi, it's too depressing to never get really good at anything. So I gave up. Only in a virtual sense, but I still gave up on a dream. I am a huge fan of Gooseist, who popularized drifting to many of us newbies, but even he is an elite master, too far to ever grasp with my meagre skills. In real life I have driven in 19 countries from Armenia to Russia to Iraq... and I am being wasted on-line by 14 year olds who've never driven a real car!
I don’t want to be that good at anything—I have a life outside of gaming (and the violin), and 20 hours a day practicing doesn't interest me, nor does an aeon of tuning—I just want to drive, virtual fatal wrecks included. Sometimes, I think, the real world still needs its moderate heroes, not just virtual legends.
