I cannot possibly explain how it feels to play Mario Kart World at the same time that you’re reading a post about nuclear-capable bomber jets being deployed to Iran. The human brain doesn’t feel like it was made to process both of these extremes at once. My heart certainly isn’t.. And yet situations like these are the confounding, debilitating, and soul-crushing circumstances under which I have repeatedly found myself turning to my Switch 2 and trying to enjoy the latest Mario Kart game, where, at the very least, I get to play as a cow.
Just weeks ago I was in the backyard of an Airbnb in Los Angeles, surrounded by esteemed peers and colleagues who were getting shitfaced and enjoying each other’s company after a long day of work, when I propped up my freshly acquired Switch 2 for a local multiplayer session. A handful of us came together around the console as it sat on a pool cover, and for 15 or 20 minutes we basked in the glow of the new system, this brilliant little game, and each other. On the other side of the city, not far from where we had just spent a day playing upcoming titles, a deployment of National Guard troops were being sent in to break and maim the people of Los Angeles. In the days to come, anxieties would rise parallel to the number of cops in downtown LA. But at least I got to be the cow.
Once I was home from the trip, I settled back into the rhythm of everyday life, or at least tried to. Every day brought with it some new horror, and all the while I sat at this keyboard and tried to write something about video games and their profundity. About my belief in them. But before long, my president launched an unconstitutional—and, more crucially, evil—attack, one that stands to stoke further division and war. That very night, my friends and I played Mario Kart World to ease the dread. We may not have much, we may not have the power to change the world, but we have each other. And at least when we rally together to play Mario Kart World, I get to be the cow.
I don’t talk about it much, but I’ve been living in constant fear since the new year. Fear of my own family being pulled apart. Fear of being wrongly and cruelly disappeared. Fear of being trafficked by people who don’t know me, but know they hate me. Fearful of the people I know who are going to slip through the cracks by the breaking down of systems. On the other side of the world, Palestinians are being slaughtered in a ceaseless and inhumane genocide. They’re being starved and shot in the streets. Bombed. Everything is so wrong, and yet everyday of late, I try to reconcile this profound wrongness in the world with the utter joy that is Mario Kart World. It’s impossible, but despite it all, I get to be the cow.
I don’t know if you could tell yet, but that last bit has meant quite a bit to me for some time now. Ever since the reveal of Mario Kart World, where we all learned about the game’s expanded roster (including the jovial cow from Moo Moo Meadows), I’ve been enraptured by the ol’ girl like countless others. There’s something so deeply game-y about the cow’s inclusion, and something so infectiously and nakedly good about them, that I fear I’ve begun clinging to the cow as some sort of saving grace. The rest of the world might be a mess, but if a team can come together to make this game and this cow, which have both brought some much needed joy into my life, why shouldn’t I hold in my belief that we can turn things around?
I think I feel this incredible affection for Mario Kart World because, at the end of whatever shitty day it may be, it is this remarkable and succinct testament to why I play. Why I think most of us do and continue to despite whatever cruel shape the world decides to take. I’ve enjoyed a great deal of my time with Mario Kart World since its launch, logging a number of multi-hour sessions and remarkably tight races with friends. I’ve experienced the epic highs and lows of Mario Kart, logging first-place wins, last-place losses, blue shell pummelings, and hierarchy-shifting Bullet Bills. To my surprise, I’ve reveled in some entirely new delights, like the game’s open-ended free-roam mode, where I’ve undoubtedly spent the bulk of my time, as well as stumbled onto some new lows, like being knocked from 6th to 24th place in an instant due to World‘s frenzied nature. And through it all, what’s meant the most to me is beholding a thing so dedicated to eliciting joy from its community, and getting to enjoy it alongside said people. And yes, of course, getting to be the cow.
Obviously Mario Kart World, and the fact that it allows me to be the cow, isn’t changing the world. I regret to report that it did not come into my life, clear my skin, cure me of my depression, and do away with my woes, let alone course-correct the trajectory of the world. It will not fix climate change, end the pointless wars to come, or curb the resurgence of fascism. That’s up to us, unfortunately. But it does remind me that joy and good, two things that feel scarce these days, can still be found, and are worth sticking around and fighting for. If only so that someone else someday can also experience the bliss of getting to be the cow.
Moises Taveras is a struggling games journalist whose greatest aspiration in life at this point is to play as the cow in Mario Kart World. You can periodically find him spouting nonsense and bad jokes on Bluesky.
