Andrew Klavan recently tried playing Minecraft and had some strong opinions. The conservative commentator found the game’s blocky world confusing and pointless. He mocked the square sun and strange music, comparing it to elevator tunes. “What’s the point of this?” he asked, struggling to understand why anyone would waste time stacking virtual blocks.

Klavan built a tall tower, joking it would rival the Tower of Babel. He said nightfall brought evil creatures, just like real life. “Of course darkness breeds monsters,” he remarked, linking it to moral decay. The game’s lack of clear purpose frustrated him—no goals, no winners, just endless digging.

The graphics offended his sense of beauty. “Everything’s jagged and ugly,” he said. “Is this what kids call art now?” He called the experience soul-crushing, a symbol of modern culture’s collapse. Minecraft’s open-ended creativity felt dangerous, like abandoning rules for chaos.

Klavan warned parents: “This game teaches nothing but nihilism.” He compared it to schools removing prayer and tradition. “They’re replacing faith with pixels,” he said. For him, Minecraft reflects a world where truth and structure are demolished—one block at a time.