There is a lure in Pokemon Go: the secret world, which only some people can see.
“This is where I caught a Vileplume”, I think as I walk down a particular footpath in the park. I have a memory of a thing that never happened, of a woman walking past a ten-foot tall fungus monster she had no awareness of. It was an epic fight; I had to throw ten Pokeballs at it before it succumbed.
Further in the park, there are people loitering around a place I know has three Pokestops. They probably put up some lures. Do I boot up the game? I do. Once again I am reminded for what seems like forever that it is by Niantic and the Pokemon Company. I catch a pink blob and move on.
I can’t decide if my walk was enhanced by looking at my screen, waiting for the game to boot, and catching a pink blob, or if it was worsened. I looked at my screen instead of the beautiful trees.
I stare at the sigil of the Niantic logo. I catch cute cartoon monsters. Micro-stories from the game attach themselves to the real world: this is where I caught a Vileplume, this is the first gym I won. The world’s stories attach themselves to the game: I caught this one on my trip to Europe, you can’t catch them in the States.
Slowly, Tlön seeps into our world.