Is our non-conscious, subjective experience of time an affect? After this week's discussions and playing Diner Dash, I would argue that it is. To begin, it is fair to say it is non-consciously processed, at least at times. Exemplary of this is our circadian rhythms. Our bodies cycle through periods of sleepiness and alertness throughout the day, based on our exposure to light, neurological chemical composition, and our sleep schedule. For a regular person with a fairly consistent daily schedule, they usually feel more drowsy after 12pm noon, sometimes considered the infamous "2pm feeling." However, their periods of wakefulness are less apparent unless this period is abnormally energetic for them. It is the body and min's' non-conscious pattern of time that structures our experiences of the day. In terms of the subjectivity issue, CsÃkszentmihályi Mihály's theories of flow exemplify the differences in experience for each person. If you have ever been immerse in a project, or workout, or study session and time escapes you, CsÃkszentmihályi would say that is the human experience of flow. Your singular focus has created a space where time is whizzing by subjectively faster than if you were to be doing something more mundane or boring.
Diner Dash's use of delayed gratification of play is similar to another game I used to play. Big Win Hockey is a game produced by Hothead games that I was once ranked #2 in the world in. I do not mention this to be boastful. On the one hand, the game is a simulation card game. You have 6 player card slots (3 forwards, 2 defensemen, 1 goalie) and 3 Big Impact card slots (e.g. 'Puck Luck' which made it more likely to score a goal off the post or 'Tape-to-Tape' which made it more likely to complete passes) to fill. As the parenthetical may suggest, you do not play a hockey game, but rather it is simulated based on your player cards abilities and the Big Impact cards used. Thus, it isn't a big achievement. On the other hand, while I never payed real-life money for in-game perks, I certainly paid for the game in time, and subsequently some degree of anxiety. The hour-or-so wait time programmed into Diner Dash and Big Win Hockey can be avoided. You can spend real-life money to buy in-game currencies to 'buy' time to play back. The wait period is then eliminated and you can continue playing until you've reached the designated amount of levels/games and must redo the same process again. But as I said, I never paid for these currencies. Rather, I waited the full hour to play again. I had such fun with it that I continued to play it, trying to improve my team and cards as much as I could so I could compete in the weekly tournaments that paid their winners substantially in in-game currencies. My interest in this game, and likely for those who play Dash games, means in order to get better without paying, you need to almost internalize the wait periods. After playing for a few weeks, I found myself picking up my phone around the same time the wait period was expiring. It seemed eery, but I didn't start thinking of its effects on me until now. For both Diner Dash and Big Win Hockey, time is a mechanism that forces the player to wait or keep making micro-transactions. I would think this mechanical choice is mainly an economic consideration on the part of the developer, but it certainly reaches further than the player's wallet. My affective experience of time became centered around Big Win Hockey for a summer, programming my body to pick up my phone every hour or so to play again. Additionally, I played late into nights unconsciously waiting for the next wait period to expire, screwing with my sleep schedule. It produced a sense of anxiety that surrounds most types of competition, but this low level anxiety was more of a product of my affect. My tethering to my phone and my experience of time that centered around this game was something I never thought of, but the anxiety of competition was. I have played other Dash-type games, and I can say the same thing for these as well. The companies that produce these games who look to make a quick buck off these eliminable delays create affective feedback loops, intentionally or unintentionally.
For the dedicated player, timing becomes paramount, but it is still just a 'casual' game. For me, Big Win Hockey was fun, but I was doing many other things like going to school, playing baseball, or hanging out with friends. It never consumed my life. But under the surface, my non-conscious, subjective experience of time was shifting towards the game and my phone. It was a tether, but it wasn't pulling at me strongly. It gently guided me back again and again because of its ability to wriggle its way into my internal clock and set off an affective alarm bell in my mind. "It's time to play again," it would whisper to my non-conscious, as I reached for my phone. We have these feedback loops with our technologies, that is clear, but the co-opting of our internal clocks to get us to come back to them is profoundly interesting.