(Illustration by Chris Kupczak)

In pictures: Pokémon Go

A quest to catch ’em all at the University of Chicago.

Pokémon Go, the new “immersive reality” app based off the Pokémon franchise from the late ʼ90s, has taken the world by storm. Here is an account of one Magazine intern’s encounters with the curious creatures on July 12, 2016. [[{"type":"media","view_mode":"media_original","fid":"3568","attributes":{"alt":"","class":"media-image","height":"481","typeof":"foaf:Image","width":"500"}}]] 8:58 a.m. Two minutes before work technically starts, I find myself three blocks away, in a park behind Giordano’s, squaring up to this Scyther. While its green carapace is evidently intended as camouflage, it’s no match for my eagle-eye (or rather, Pidgeotto-eye) vision. [[{"type":"media","view_mode":"media_original","fid":"3569","attributes":{"alt":"","class":"media-image","height":"481","typeof":"foaf:Image","width":"500"}}]] 3:30 p.m. After leaving work early to photograph Pokémon, I naturally gravitate toward the Reg, where I discover that, much like math majors, Rattatas love to congregate on the first floor of the library. Unlike math majors (hopefully), I discover later that they also love to congregate by the dumpsters behind Pizza Capri. [[{"type":"media","view_mode":"media_original","fid":"3570","attributes":{"alt":"","class":"media-image","height":"481","typeof":"foaf:Image","width":"500"}}]] 3:55 p.m. The stacks are no place for a bird, I think to myself as I capture this Pidgey. Then again, there is an argument to be made that the stacks are no place for any living creature. Except Rattatas—they’re here in droves and seem to be enjoying themselves immensely. [[{"type":"media","view_mode":"media_original","fid":"3571","attributes":{"alt":"","class":"media-image","height":"481","typeof":"foaf:Image","width":"500"}}]] 4:15 p.m. I spot the Horsea as I’m leaving the Reg. It’s nominally an aquatic Pokémon; I wonder if, given its concrete surroundings, it is forced to survive in the pools of tears shed by UChicago students during midterm season. [[{"type":"media","view_mode":"media_original","fid":"3572","attributes":{"alt":"","class":"media-image","height":"481","typeof":"foaf:Image","width":"500"}}]] 6:00 p.m. The above Spearow, found on the Quad, perks me up after a meeting with my philosophy adviser. Its patient stare puts me in mind of Wittgenstein’s old edict: “Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must remain silent.” After some minutes of taking comfort in the meaningful silence, I realize my phone has frozen. The Spearow escapes.