It’s belated, sure, but I officially dove in to play and review Pokemon Go…and I officially I don’t get it. I feel like I’m taking crazy pills.

Look, with something as huge as Pokemon Go has been, I cant help but recoil against the hype machine a little. I’ll admit that. It’s my human nature. But with what is now a cultural phenomenon, I was expecting more depth. More strategy. More heart. More fun. Just…more.

Don’t get me wrong – the first couple hours of Pokemon Go is stellar and fresh. The experience of walking around and interacting with Pokemon in your environment is the dream of millions of people who grew up on these games. Throwing Pokeballs, evolving your creatures, and steadily getting stronger is a pure treat, as was evidenced by how every person on the planet downloaded this game. You really begin realizing what tremendous potential something like this has.

Unfortunately, that’s the thing about potential–it exists as a what if that may or may not ever be realized. Just ask Cuba Gooding, Jr.

Turns out that as a brief experience, Pokemon Go is like cracking open that elusive treasure chest for the first time. And as a game, Pokemon Go is discovering the chest contains only pieces hot garbage–that is to say, it’s a shallow, aimless, and ultimately pointless exercise in redundancy.

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