You call that intervention in Fez a "mysterious force" which could just as easily be a bag of shrooms as a baptism. Either way, it is this idea that Gomez (and by extension, the player) is embarking on a journey that puts their newfound knowledge/altered perception to practical use in order to realize a state of enlightenment. I think designing one of the game's core mechanics to literally alter your perspective establishes the goal of its experience to be a psychedelic one.

In this regard, I look to the art direction for support. The deconstructed 8-bit aesthetic and electric, mutable (hyper)color palette complement the design well. And if we think about the game in terms of its history, we can draw parallels between the way Fez was influenced by its surrealist predecessor SMB, and how the psychedelic art movement of the 60s was informed by the surrealists of a few generations prior. To be clear, I am not trying to suggest Fez as art as much as I am trying to establish its psychedelic properties.

The word, “psychedelic,” comes from the Greek roots "psykhe" and "delos" meaning "mind" and "to make visible/reveal" respectively. Regarding Fez, this definition manifests as a battle of wits where the player must mine their intellect to reveal otherwise hidden meaning in the environment. In this case, the game—the actual code itself—becomes the acid tab. It's the vehicle with which the player alters their perception. And in order for that experience to be successful—in this case, to solve the puzzles—the player is forced to shift their way of thinking to align with that of the game's creator, not unlike following a Native American shaman leading a peyote ritual. Of course, the difference here is that Fish & Bedard are actually the creators of this world instead of the interpreters of it, but both the game designer and soothsayer serve as guides on this journey regardless.

I also have a hunch the designers would appreciate this kind of etymological analysis because words are a code in and of themselves, and the parallels you make to Kabbalah and gematria are well articulated and totally relevant, imo. I find little difference between the game designer who embeds mind-numbingly difficult puzzles into their virtual world and the poet who encodes layers of hidden meaning in their syntax, grammar and diction. Members of the audience become archaeologists of media digging for meaning, and the deeper we delve, the more transcendent our experience.

TL;DR – Thanks, Stu. The fact that this game inspired you to think along these lines in the first place is a testament to the introspective powers it encourages and promotes. I found this post fascinating and enjoyed reading about where your intellectual journey with Fez took you outside of playing the game. With that in mind, I appreciate the opportunity to ramble on (and on, and on) and continue the head trip here.

ps – I think you and this Bedard dude should collaborate on a videogame interpretation of Alan Moore's Promethea. (How rad would that be?)