Internet Games and Other Black Holes

Wordle. It's like that first spoonful of a turtle sundae: I sincerely wish that I could be satisfied with just a taste. But somehow that's never enough.

What's worse? When every last gooey globule of comingled French vanilla, caramel, hot fudge, and toasted pecans has slid down my gullet, I become fixated on my next scheduled rendezvous with this ultimate comfort food.

If relating an ice cream obsession to a word game craving seems far-fetched, allow me to explain.

It started innocently enough. A brief brain-stimulating session to accompany my morning mug of java. It was fun racking up a stretch of winning days before the Wordle beast defeated me. Then a friend mentioned Quordle. Ooh. That sounded appealing. Quadruple the entertainment value for a few more minutes of time invested. I can manage that. No prob.

Prob. Because once you finish the Daily Quordle, there are prompts to also have a whack at Quordle Sequence, which requires you to solve each puzzle one at a time, with no bouncing around to see if a solve in grid three perhaps aids in filling in grids two and four.

So-o-o, I have a second cup of coffee. No biggie.

Biggie. Because that, my friends, is just the beginning. From under the Merriam-Webster umbrella, which is where Quordle lives, the sticky web of ad-sponsored enticements spreads to multiple options, which form a chain that pulls you inexorably into the mental quicksand.

So, now you've completed the Daily Classic Quordle, which earned you the right to play the Weekly Challenge, which then steered you to Quordle Sequence, Quordle Extreme, and Quordle Chill.

Win or lose the Quordle battles, you are invited to take a stab at Octordle. Double the mental gymnastics, double the time-suck. Okay. Except that finishing the Octordle Daily links you to Octordle Sequence, which links to Octordle Rescue, in which the computer has randomly pre-filled a few letter slots for you.

At this point, my resistance is sapped, and I am defenseless against the full menu:

•Tightrope, a trivia quiz

•Pilfer, a "ruthless word game"

•Blossom, a seven-letter wheel from which to spell as many words as possible

•The Missing Letter, a crossword puzzle

•Victordle, a competitive version of Wordle

•Twofer Goofer, a rhyming game designed by that electronic phantom known as Artificial Intelligence, or AI to its friends

Things got scary one Sunday evening when I went looking for some knock-off games to get me through until Monday morning and almost got consumed by the sinkhole of Duotrigordle.

And yes, I did sucker for that mega-challenge that one time. But solving thirty-two grids in a row so sapped my brain and taxed my nervous system that I feared I'd end the day wandering the neighborhood in a daze.

I had hit the proverbial bottom and humbly acknowledged my addiction.

These days I only engage in the "extra" games on Sundays, and then only with a rich, melty bowl of Häagen-Dazs in hand for distraction.

Strictly for its calming effect, you understand.