Bathroom Monologue: Chess Scares Me

“Chess has always terrified me. It’s not the patriarchic implications. It's not the potential Marxist critique, or all the Pawns rushing to certain death. It's that they aren't really Pawns. They're all tentacles of the player, each with as little against as the Queen. One person dispatches them all, seeking to kill the pieces of the only other person in the chess world. The Bishops. The Rooks. The Knights, so brave and so dumb they only know one letter in the alphabet. They’re dispensable in pursuit of getting to the other person’s King. If the King’s in play, the other person you say down with is alive. The King is the vital spot of the chess organism, and the whole point is to rip the other person apart so you can put his one vital spot in peril. Stopping at Checkmate doesn’t mean anything other than, “You know if I felt like it, the only part of you that matters would be dead.” And it’s as good as dead, because whether or not you knock it over, the game ends. That other person is vanquished. I’d much rather play Halo or Gears of War. They feel much less personal.”