Seaman in 2020

Greetings from the far-flung future of 2025, when shit is somehow even more insane than before!

If you enjoyed the weird and wacky writings of Seaman 2020, please check out the new novel, MASKS OF THE TECHNOCRATS, set to be published on 10/31/2025 (spooky)!

MASKS OF THE TECHNOCRATS is a dystopian novel lamenting and ridiculing the absurdities we constantly have to confront today revolving around excessive reliance on technology, the ever-deepening isolation of the virtual lives we all lead, and the slow, painful deaths of old-world essentials like privacy and truth. Buckle up and get ready to embrace the darkness.

Here's the author website, the book on Amazon (pre-order the eBook now or grab the paperback on Halloween!), and here's the Goodreads author page.

Yes, it’s really over - and now, a day later, we’ve had some time to reflect. So what does the story of Seaman mean in this moment? Is there anything of substance under all that snark and strangeness?

The answer is of course subjective. Like Lewis Carroll’s poem “Jabberwocky,” Seaman initially appears nonsensical, but in the proper context can be interpreted in a satisfying and meaningful way.

On one hand, Seaman in 2020 was a special opportunity for closure. When I originally tried the game (back when it was first released), I was fascinated with it as a technological and artistic oddity. A human-headed fish with whom you could communicate through a specially-designed microphone peripheral? Sign me up! What might this strange creature say during our secret conversations? What even weirder form could he eventually take, later on in his evolution? I had to obey my curiosity; I had to see.

But I didn’t get to see. Thanks to a combination of strict parents and competing priorities, I could not spare the time and resources to give Seaman the level of care he demanded. So after a magical but very short period of whispering obscenities into the microphone with friends - just to giggle at Seaman’s annoyed replies - my involvement with the game petered out. And so, too, did Seaman; he grew sicker and weaker in his unattended tank and perished, along with my childhood, which quickly gave way to adolescence and eventually adulthood. Abandoning Seaman was not, by any means, tragic or sad. But it remained an unchecked box, an unexplored enigma.

In the midst of adulthood, with its far higher stakes and increasingly urgent “real-world” priorities, does it make sense to return to something as obscure and seemingly unimportant as Seaman? Under ordinary circumstances, perhaps not. But 2020 has not been ordinary. If you’ve had the luxury of being able to stay home these days (which notably is not a luxury enjoyed by all), you’ve likely been plagued by problems which seem small at first but grow increasingly frustrating by the day. What do I do with this sudden surplus of spare time? How do I make today different from yesterday? How can I distract myself enough to stop worrying? Why even get out of bed today? “When you stop growing, you start dying.”

Seaman offered something new each day; whether it was the appearance of a new appendage, a new word learned, or simply a slight increase in size, there was something soothing and reassuring about the perception of steady, healthy growth. In contrast to my inability to influence the events constantly threatening global stability, I at least had the power to help Seaman evolve and thrive. In addition, guiding him successfully into his next life provided a closing bookend to match the one that was erected way back in the early 2000s. It’s a uniquely satisfying sense of closure that would not have been possible without the enormous disappointment of 2020. Something to savor and appreciate in a whole new light. So as much as the original Seaman was a product of its time, it’s now, to some degree, a product of our current time also. A positive one.

This experience provided other benefits as well. Many have been coping with the frustrations of this year by writing daily. Seaman provided that for me. Furthermore, in writing it up, I’ve been doing my part to preserve video game history - which, unlike film history, appears to be increasingly at risk of fading into forgotten oblivion. I urge you to do your part, too. Find an old game to appreciate it - the weirder the better. Or better yet, dust off an old console from years ago. Bring it back to life, while you still have time to do so.

Perhaps most importantly, there’s real hope and real optimism to take away from all of this.

If I can take care of Seaman on a daily basis and keep him alive (on my second try, at least), I can probably care for a dog, too.

And if I can care for a dog, I can care for a baby human...

So you see, it is not only Seaman who has evolved. I am evolving, too.

Finally, if a 20-year-old virtual fish-man can be willed back to life from oblivion - “real” or not - then we too can come back to life. We can return to our former glory. And we’ll end up stronger than before.

It finally happened. Accompanied by a loud and encouraging exclamation from yours truly (“JUMP!”) into the Dreamcast microphone, Seaman finally mustered the energy to escape. As he grabbed the ring and pulled the switch down, the back wall of the tank gave way to a lush forest - the freedom of the wild.

And off he went!

Before he disappeared forever, though, he left me with a few words of wisdom.

“I’m free now. But I’ve realized that true freedom is inside you; you’re always free as long as you’re true to yourself.”

He seemed to tear up as he expressed his gratitude for all the care he’d received.

“I wish you and your wife the best of luck. I hope she is as good to you as you’ve been to me. I know we’ve had our differences on occasion, but... I like you. You’ve done a lot of work to take such good care of me. Thank you.”

I guess the ornery old bastard has a gentler side. Cute.

As a final bonus, Seaman told me he wanted to give me a parting gift. Inviting me to tap on the glass, he suggested I would be receiving a fun surprise.

I started tapping and the game’s credits began to scroll. A party beat came on and Seaman gave me a dance performance! His moves were quite impressive.

It’s not the end of Seaman’s life, nor the end of his evolution. But it is, I’m afraid, the end of our direct involvement with him. Good luck to you, Seaman, and thanks for the companionship. Even though you’re kind of a dick, you made 2020 a little more bearable.

Seaman’s all grown up. He says he’s about ready to move on, out of captivity and into the wild.

In a lengthy and somewhat head-scratching monologue, he made a pretty strong case for that privilege today. He claimed that, thousands of years ago, he was human - the son of an Egyptian king. He fell in love with a peasant girl, but was not permitted to marry her due to class differences. The girl’s father asked an Egyptian god for help bringing them together, and the god responded by changing the lovers’ physical forms. To be reunited with his true love, Seaman has to continue gradually evolving until he regains his human form. To continue that process and to eventually realize his ultimate destiny, he’ll have to be set free from the cage.

Okaaaaaay....

Anyway, to get the ball rolling, he jumped off the big rock to try and reach that mysterious ring dangling from the ceiling. I suspect it holds the key to opening up the cage. He tried twice so far, without success, then decided to rest.

We’ll see what happens tomorrow. Third time’s the charm...

Behold! Frogmen!

These two like to alternate between both land and water. They seem to enjoy the novelty of their new dry-land abilities, but still love to take a dip every now and then.

In fact, their lives depend on staying moist. The tank is now equipped with a sprinkler system, which must be sprayed every so often to keep things nice and wet.

Finally, as always, we chatted for a while. And again, examining this project in the dystopian context of 2020, we can add yet another of Seaman’s comments to our growing list of painfully ironic statements.

🐟 I see you out there moving around so freely from one place to another. I wish I had that freedom. You must be out and about all the time, doing all kinds of fun and interesting things.

🤨 ...

Our tadmen now have arms, legs, hands and feet! And that’s not all... check out that charming smile.

 After the latest round of cannibalistic feasting, only the strongest two remain. I have a feeling something very special is about to happen.

The conversation continues to increase in depth, too. Seaman remarked on how, as of the year 2000, globalization is accelerating like never before. Perhaps, he mused, the world will one day act as a single cohesive global community, rather than a fractious patchwork of competitors.

Now that we all face a common threat - a virus with no regard for political or geographic boundaries - we’re finally able to stand shoulder to shoulder together, treating one another with kindness and decency, extending a helping hand to our neighbors and embracing our fundamental bond as fellow human beings. Right?

Haha.

The tadmen are killing each other. Whoopity-fucking-doo! Are we surprised at all, at this point?

More interesting is the fact that the survivors are growing legs... again. And the legs grow more rapidly when I talk to them more.

That’s all wonderful, but the real highlight of today is that Seaman is finally getting into discussing topics of substance. The young tadman finally dove right into the theme that I’ve wanted to explore from the very beginning.

🐟 People say I don’t exist. That I’m imaginary. Do you think I exist?

🤓 Yes.

🐟 And I believe in you too. But seriously, I want you to know that I really exist beyond the realm of just an imaginary creature. To any nonbelievers, I would say this: why don’t I exist? I’m living, breathing, and thinking with my heart and my soul. I exist just as much as you do. In fact, I’ll prove it. Have you heard of the Beatles?

🤓 Yes.

🐟 Do you believe they existed?

🤓 Yes.

🐟 You see, you’ve probably never met these people, but you “know” they existed because they were in television and in magazines. I too have been in television and magazines. And here you are thinking about me and talking to me. So from that point of view, I really do exist.

He’s preaching to the converted, of course. In 2020, I want to believe in Seaman. In fact, I must. Don’t you feel the same way?

The miracle continues! The eggs have hatched into tadmen, and they’re already very talkative. They lectured me on how spoiled we all are with our modern technology and luxurious comforts.

I guess they think it’s the year 2000. How quaint. But sure, everything’s reeeeaal comfortable these days...

Today marked another historic milestone. Seaman crawled ashore triumphantly, squirmed around on all fours for a while, and finally laid six eggs through the proboscis on his forehead.

With his purpose fulfilled, he uttered his profound last words in a surprisingly casual manner and passed away.

“I’d say my work here is done. Later.”

As one life ends, a new generation rises. They are the future.

We finished moving the rock and, lo and behold, the tank began to drain. That deeper end on one side of the tank turned out to be rather handy, as it remains full of water despite the rest of the tank going dry. A perfect setting for an amphibious transition.

This is what makes Seaman such a joy in 2020. While we mope and sit around collecting dust in the lockdown of the “real world,” he just keeps on growing and transforming. Exploring new frontiers of what it means just to be.

There’s a big rock in the middle of Seaman’s tank. Until now, it has been completely insignificant. But upon receiving a hint from our trusty narrator, Mr. Nimoy, I realized I need to move the thing before we can enter the next phase.

I guess I’m not strong enough to do it on my own, because apparently I need Seaman’s help. He offered to lend a hand - or, rather, a fin - but only if I could answer a few of his riddles correctly.

They were kinda BS. For example, how many lives does a cat have? One!

After each correct answer (three total), we moved it together just a little bit. He looked really awkward shoving his fins up against it, grunting.

We’re not quite finished yet, but he got too tired to proceed any further today, so we’ll have to wait a little longer before we can finally unlock the secret.

I have a feeling that we’ll uncover something truly consequential... a profound change from which there will be no return.

Good news, everyone! The day has finally come!

And the day isn’t the only thing that came. Seaman did too.

That’s right - he has fulfilled his “purpose of life.” And let me tell you, the act was quite something to behold. Eww.

As the saying goes, it takes two... until it doesn’t. One died immediately afterwards; Mother Nature Ex Machina only needs one of these little freaks now. It’s pretty obvious that, this time, the death was supposed to happen.

I gave the survivor a new name: Pizza. Now he’s gold too, just like his ex.

He still likes to chat. After the usual structured conversations, I decided to administer a word association test. His answer was both timely and ominous:

🤓 America.

🐟 Goodbye.

Game-changer: I discovered that Seaman can be tickled. And not only that - he SHOULD be tickled. To keep his spirits up.

Apparently, the expression on his face is either a scowl or a mirthful grin. This is not news to me. However, I did not realize until now that this fact is actually meaningful. Apparently, if he’s smiling, it means he is healthy and will evolve more rapidly. If not, he will evolve more slowly, and is much more frail.

And that’s not all! I also discovered that the spider can be fed to him; eating it will make him sick. Upon further reflection, I suspect that when I tried feeding it to him in the past, he actually DID eat it (unbeknownst to me at the time), and died as a result (see the post on Day 16, from attempt #1 in Universe A). Mind blown!

According to my research, he can be nursed back to health even after falling ill from spider consumption. Even in light of all of this, though, I still maintain that his health was more iffy after losing his only romantic prospect (which I am still successfully preventing).

More hope for the future. Seaman is here, his partner is here, and both are thoroughly tickled! Forget the pandemic, and forget our ongoing descent into fascism; this virtual world’s biome is sending us an unmistakable sign... the universe will make things right. A little tickle never hurt anyone.

The advantage of doing this a second time around is that we have past experience to learn from. Scroll down to Day 11 of our first attempt, and you’ll see that this is the point at which Seaman first began to grow legs. One day later (Day 12) was the day of the partner’s demise, after which we had only one sad and sterile Seaman left, drifting listlessly toward death. But now, with two still surviving in the timeline of “Universe B,” we’re nearly there - on to a better destiny!

In a dark time like 2020, this brighter timeline really does feel like a “B,” ya know?

No evidence of legs yet, but that’s not too surprising. There will be some random variation in how the game progresses between runs, I’m sure. The most important thing is that we keep the two of them alive. I have two caterpillars in storage for feeding, and three moths. We better get some new eggs soon so we can keep the stock up!

Priority #1 right now is to get these two to mate. I started out by flat-out commanding one to do so. He seemed agreeable, but still did not engage in the act right away.

🤓 Mate!

🐟 Yes, let’s get freaky.

I noticed today that the food supply seems unusually low, but after a bit of reflection I realized that that’s probably a good sign, actually.

When I screwed up this whole project during my first attempt, it was due to my inadvertently starving one of the two would-be lovers. But now that I’m feeding them adequately, it’s becoming clear that managing the moth tank really is of the utmost importance. I have to leave some larvae around so they can become moths, to produce more eggs and more larvae, and so on. But I also need to harvest the right proportion of larvae for feeding. Those little balls in the pic below are eggs, by the way.

Maybe I’m finally getting the hang of it!

In further encouraging news, the conversation wasn’t entirely fruitless today. Seaman seemed to transcend his outdated nature by making a pop culture reference that still sounds relevant. But he was also dickishly dismissive of me, as usual.

🐟 So, you decided to talk to me tonight instead of watching reruns of Seinfeld, did you?

🤓 Yes.

🐟 Well, I think that pretty much covers it. Later.

Today I briefly played with the idea of shutting the whole thing down - the second Seaman playthrough, this blog... everything. Why? Because it’s exhausting.

But I’m no quitter. I put myself in this situation, and I’ll only get myself out by succeeding. I’ll continue to give this little mutant all the care he needs, even as he fails again and again to show me the gratitude I am due. All he does is hurl insults; today he had a new one: “fuzzbucket.”

I have to admit one thing, though. He can be quite photogenic.

We had friends over tonight. Friends! Can you imagine? There was mask-wearing. There was distancing. Still, I feel shame. There’s no right way to do things in 2020.

In Seaman on the Sega Dreamcast, there’s a right way to do things: check in on Seaman, adjust his habitat, talk to him. I did that tonight. I did the bare minimum.