Gamification: QAnon, Cicada 3301, and the need for "Ludic Literacy" to Navigate a Gamified World

“All the world’s a stage,” wrote Shakespeare, “and all the men and women merely players.” Four centuries later, we find ourselves in a landscape where these stages, so meticulously constructed, have fused with the intangible realms of cyberspace. The lights, cameras, and scripts now revolve around cryptic puzzle hunts, clandestine intelligence tropes, and digital rabbit holes. We call them conspiracy movements, alternate reality games (ARGs), or, in the language of modern mania, QAnon.

In the summer of 2017, a peculiar phenomenon quietly emerged from the fringes of American politics and the murkier corners of imageboards. At first, it looked like any other ephemeral internet conspiracy. But as it metastasized, QAnon took on a form that felt oddly designed, as though an unseen Dungeon Master was orchestrating each clue and mission. For those who participated in unraveling the puzzles, reading the drops, and trading cryptic lines, QAnon was not merely a conspiracy: it was a game. There were distinct roles to be played, questlines to follow, and carefully planted illusions, raising the possibility that we were seeing the incursion of a new cultural form—one that fused old-school spycraft with the modern technology of crowdsourced puzzle-solving.

From my vantage, QAnon may best be understood as an immersive environment reminiscent of a megagame or a LARP (Live-Action Role-Playing). The system, whether by accident or cunning design, is built on the same scaffolding that underpins game theory, psychological persuasion, and transmedia storytelling. This article, building upon the seminal piece, “A Game Designer’s Analysis of QAnon: Playing with Reality,” and drawing from a constellation of research on CICADA 3301, espionage narratives, and transmedia expansions, aims to shed light on the labyrinth of codes, mythologies, and motivations shaping the QAnon movement. We will explore the gamification of political color wars, the infiltration of spycraft motifs, the long-lost legends of Ong’s Hat and “Slow Horses,” and how each of these elements coalesce into a massive, open-ended puzzle—one that sends countless minds into the white-hot pursuit of hidden truths and illusions alike.

The Convergence of Games and Conspiracies

For much of human history, conspiracies were akin to whispered secrets around tavern tables—shadowy, intangible, and known only to the few. But the internet age changed everything. Suddenly, the tavern could seat thousands, or millions, of conspirators simultaneously. From Pizzagate to claims of subterranean elites, each wild theory found its own digital echo chamber. But QAnon was singular because it structured the conspiracy narrative with game-like mechanics. Participants were not just reading about alleged secrets; they were solving them, piecing them together, and being rewarded with the heady rush of feeling one step ahead of the “deep state.”

In the eye-opening paper “Gamification of Conspiracy: QAnon as a Participatory Alternate Reality Game,” researchers from the Journal of Digital Media & Interaction argue that QAnon harnesses the illusions of puzzle-solving for political ends. They describe this gamification as a potent form of social engineering—where cryptic “Q drops” become miniature boss battles that demand the community’s collective intelligence. Those who align the puzzle pieces are lionized as patriots, guardians, or designated “anons.” Meanwhile, those who challenge or doubt the puzzle are exiled from the fold.

As “A Game Designer’s Analysis of QAnon” so insightfully observed, each puzzle is an invitation. The cryptic nature of Q’s messages compels the uninitiated to ask: Is there more to this? That more arrives in the form of “research,” which demands immersion into alternative news sites, rumor forums, ephemeral imageboards, YouTube channels, and cross-referential tangents. The real currency is time—the time spent following leads, verifying quotes, and reinforcing the conspiratorial worldview. In this regard, QAnon stands as a testament to how deeply the architecture of a well-designed game can seize the imaginations of hundreds of thousands of people.

A Flash of Cicada’s Wings

To understand QAnon’s puzzle-based allure, we must look to earlier digital labyrinths. Few are more famous—or more cryptic—than Cicada 3301, an entity that surfaced around 2012 with an otherworldly puzzle. The Journal of Cybersecurity published a deep dive titled “Cicada 3301: Cryptographic Puzzles and Online Communities,” revealing how participants were snared by the promise of unmasking one of the internet’s great mysteries. The puzzles required knowledge of steganography, cryptography, classical literature, number theory, and esoteric references spanning centuries. It was an intellectual test so advanced that many believed it could only be the work of a powerful covert organization, possibly an intelligence agency.

Parallel to QAnon, Cicada 3301 drew in a far-flung community, each puzzle-solver enticed by the notion of winning a place at the big table. Solvers banded together to decode messages hidden in prime numbers, dark web addresses, or the runes of old manuscripts. The puzzle’s ephemeral nature generated a mystical aura—no different from the “Q” riddles that teased revelations about powerful elites. Both QAnon and Cicada 3301 revolve around cryptic communications that form a communal narrative. The difference, of course, is that QAnon welded these puzzles to a politically incendiary conspiracy, while Cicada 3301 adhered more to the domain of cryptography and high-stakes recruitment, or so the rumors go.

Some researchers, including the RAND Corporation in their report “Cicada 3301: A Decade of Cryptographic Mysteries,” hypothesize that such puzzle phenomena groom a segment of society—gifted puzzle solvers, capable coders, and armchair sleuths—for tasks we do not fully understand. Whether that grooming is for clandestine intelligence, rogue cryptography circles, or mere entertainment remains a subject of debate.

LARPing for the Republic: Megagames, “Slow Horses,” and the Spycraft Illusion

The synergy of espionage narratives within conspiracy circles is hardly accidental. We have collectively inherited a cultural fascination with spies and double agents, from the romps of James Bond to the gritty realism of Mick Herron’s Slow Horses. QAnon taps directly into this wellspring of espionage fantasy. “Q” himself is cast as an intelligence insider, replete with the top-secret “Q-clearance.” Each anointed drop drips with the subtext of insider knowledge, tantalizing the player with the sense of being on the cusp of an intelligence coup.

In my own exploration, “QAnon as a MegaGame-LARP Phenomenon,” I noted a fascinating parallel to Megagames, a unique genre in which hundreds of players gather to enact large-scale strategic scenarios—often reimagining global conflict or historical events. As outlined in Simulation & Gaming’s “Megagames and Social Coordination: Case Studies from Luxembourg,” these events revolve around elaborate rule-sets, shifting alliances, and negotiations that mimic real-life geopolitical tension. Now replace the physical conference centers of Luxembourg with the decentralized networks of Telegram, 8kun, and Facebook. Instead of historically accurate scenario briefings, imagine a swirl of “deep state” references and patriotic branding. The scope and organization remain. We observe players adopting roles—researchers, influencers, patriots, “bakers”—and playing out a narrative that continually evolves.

Add to that the spycraft aesthetic: cryptic codes, references to indicted officials, claims of infiltration within the highest echelons of global power. The Intelligence and National Security journal’s “Espionage Fiction and Real-World Intelligence Practices” underscores how intelligence tropes, once relegated to paperback novels, have bled into real politics. Indeed, QAnon harnesses these espionage fantasies much like a skilled LARP gamemaster manipulates the dramatic tension of a fantasy quest. The result is an engrossing drama, with acts and subplots, villains and heroes, culminating in a sprawling storyline reminiscent of a Slow Horses novel—where the incompetent or outcast MI5 agents still hold the keys to a hidden truth that might just save the realm.

The Machinations of Psychological Entrapment

To grasp the ferocity and allure of such movements, we must peel back the layers of psychology. Jane McGonigal’s Reality is Broken famously posits that human beings crave meaningful work and epic wins. Video games deliver a perfectly optimized formula for this: instant feedback, progressive skill-building, communal achievement. She didn’t specifically refer to QAnon, but her arguments portend its success. To play QAnon is to immerse oneself in a sense of cosmic importance: we’re saving the Republic, we’re fighting hidden tyrants, we’re exposing evil.

Several psychological principles reinforce this phenomenon:

1. Confirmation Bias: When “Q” says to look for a clue in an obscure government document, participants who find anything matching their preconceived beliefs feel rewarded. They become more entrenched in the conspiracy narrative, as each find is an “aha!” moment.
2. Variable Ratio Reinforcement: Operant conditioning teaches us that reward schedules that are unpredictable (like slot machines) are among the most addictive. QAnon’s random “drops” and cryptic posts create a sense of anticipation. Will this next clue be the big reveal?
3. Group Cohesion and Identity: The “anons” form a tight-knit identity, a secret society initiated into higher truths. This group identity galvanizes members to remain loyal, even when confronted with contradictory evidence. Ostracism from the group means losing not just a conspiracy, but a community.

As the Journal of Digital Media & Interaction and the Anti-Defamation League’s “QAnon: A Security Threat” reports each highlight, these mechanics can lead ordinary individuals to adopt extraordinary convictions. The game-based lure merges with the psychological impetus toward belonging and significance.

Political Color Wars as a Grand PR Campaign

In my essay, “Political Color Wars Are Largely a Game,” I argued that the public sphere itself can behave like a giant chessboard, with influential actors orchestrating what appears to be spontaneous social phenomena. This perspective resonates with the concept of social programming, a realm where propaganda meets marketing meets gamification. Indeed, color revolutions and heightened political rhetoric become flashpoints for a participatory drama. In the QAnon saga, red hats and flags become avatars, not unlike color-coded armies in a strategy game.

Example: During intense political rallies, phrases like “Follow the White Rabbit” or “WWG1WGA” function as codewords to solidify group identity. They are the battle cries of the game. If you understand the references, you’re part of the in-group. If you don’t, you’re either a bystander or the dreaded opponent. It’s a form of cultural encryption, reminiscent of Cicada 3301’s reliance on cryptic messages to define membership.

Through the Looking Glass: Ong’s Hat, CERN, and Many Worlds

QAnon, with its deep narrative sprawl, is hardly the first transmedia phenomenon to enthrall conspiracy-minded audiences. Decades prior, a curious legend called Ong’s Hat spread across the nascent bulletin boards of the internet. This elaborate tale (or hoax, depending on who you ask) introduced an interdimensional travel narrative where quantum physics experiments at a remote location, Ong’s Hat in New Jersey, presumably opened portals to parallel realities. In my exploration “Ong’s Hat: The Beginning: CERN, Many Worlds, MMORPGs (QAnon), ARGs ‘The Beast’, HALO and Artificial Intelligence,” I dissect how the seeds planted by esoteric fictions like Ong’s Hat eventually found fertile ground in modern conspiratorial communities.

The cultural tapestry was ready for an epic quest that merges hidden scientific breakthroughs (CERN, quantum computing) with a sense of cosmic significance (the multiverse, time travel, secret portals). If you believe in parallel dimensions, it’s not that large a leap to believe that clandestine players in government or technology circles hold the keys to unimaginable forces. And if you’re prone to gaming narratives, you’re even more susceptible to illusions of labyrinthine conspiracies bridging science, politics, and an arcane script readable only by the initiated.

This is the environment where QAnon thrives. Laced with references to hidden technologies, advanced physics, and cosmic showdowns between good and evil, the movement becomes, in effect, an MMORPG—only the quests unfold in the real world. The lines between the “game’s” reality and our day-to-day existence blur. The daily news might hold the next quest item or boss reveal.

Transmedia Realms: The Meta of It All

As media theorist Henry Jenkins has pointed out, transmedia storytelling thrives when a narrative expands across multiple platforms, each platform contributing uniquely to the tapestry. In my article, “Transmedia Realms: Humanity’s Great Traverse into Meta,” I examined how QAnon harnesses Twitter, Telegram, anonymous boards, YouTube channels, and offline political gatherings to create a dynamic storyverse. This “distributed narrative” is reminiscent of how Marvel invests different platforms—comics, movies, television, streaming series—to deepen the story. The difference here is that real people are the protagonists, actively shaping and rewriting the script.

Participants crave recognition within this transmedia expanse, a phenomenon known as “producerly texts”—where fans move from passive consumption to active collaboration. They create memes, decode messages, or stage real-world rallies. In QAnon, the synergy of personal identity, digital immersion, and political activism is potent. It is, in many ways, the ultimate transmedia event—uniting skill-based gaming (puzzle-solving), collaborative storytelling (conspiracy building), and real-world consequences (voting patterns, street protests, and personal convictions).

Transmedia fosters the illusion that everything is connected. A single cryptic sentence in a Q post can spawn hundreds of YouTube videos, thousands of tweets, and multiple spin-off narratives. The user-driven expansions swirl around the official storyline, echoing the fluid processes of ARG design explained in Dave Szulborski’s This Is Not a Game: The Guide to Alternate Reality Gaming. A puzzle piece can be hidden anywhere: a reference in a political speech, a cameo in a pop song, or a random number in an official document. The participants scurry to decode, and in that rush, they unify around a new emergent “truth.”

Behind the Curtain: Spycraft, Social Programming, and Cybernetics

So how did we get here? How did a conspiracy-laden puzzle morph into an offline movement with tangible political influence? To approach this question, we must wander into the realms of cybernetics—where social systems are regulated by feedback loops. In classical cybernetic theory, behavior is shaped by continuous flows of information, error correction, and adaptation. QAnon’s architecture—particularly at its apex of popularity—took advantage of these loops. “Q drops” served as signals injected into a system of watchers. The watchers (followers) processed the signals, generated interpretations, and broadcast them widely across media platforms. As these interpretations circulated, they influenced new watchers to join, creating larger, more robust feedback cycles.

Think tanks like the EU DisinfoLab have pointed out in “Disinformation and Gamification in the EU” that the cyclical nature of social media—its likes, shares, retweets, and algorithmic boosts—perfectly amplifies conspiratorial gameplay. Each novel clue or revelation triggers a wave of engagement, which the platforms interpret as valuable content. The platforms then feed that content to broader audiences, which in turn amplifies the original signals, forming a self-reinforcing vortex.

Furthermore, the infiltration of spycraft motifs in these conspiratorial circles is not random. Intelligence and espionage narratives awaken primal responses: fear of infiltration, the thrill of secrets, the desire to be on the winning side of a cloak-and-dagger war. It’s a timeless motif updated for the digital frontier.

From the vantage of social programming, consider the possibility that powerful interests (state actors, intelligence agencies, or other clandestine groups) could exploit such conspiratorial games. Disinformation thrives in precisely these environments of confusion and excitement. As LikeWar: The Weaponization of Social Media shows, controlling or nudging the narrative at the right time can sow societal friction, strengthen or weaken political factions, and stoke radical behavior. Indeed, “Q: Into the Storm” (HBO) scratched the surface by exploring how a handful of behind-the-scenes figures may have stoked QAnon’s growth for personal or political motives.

The Slow Burn: “Slow Horses” as a Key to Understanding Disillusion

Among the spy novels that color our modern conspiratorial imagination, Mick Herron’s Slow Horses stands out. Its protagonists are not suave superspies but rather MI5 rejects, exiled to a dingy annex called Slough House. They’re the flotsam of the intelligence world—disgraced or incompetent, perpetually struggling to reassert their worth. This cultural narrative resonates with conspiracy movements like QAnon because it taps into an underdog yearning. It conjures the feeling that the neglected and mocked, the so-called “slow horses,” might actually be the heroes—if only people would pay attention.

In the blog piece “CICADA 3301 - ‘Slow Horses’ - 1231507051321,” I delved into how the quest for significance and redemption weaves through both the puzzle phenomenon of Cicada and the espionage-laden environment of Herron’s novels. For many QAnon adherents—some of them feeling similarly marginalized, ignored, or jaded—these narratives serve as a framework to situate themselves in a clandestine battle. The sense of we might be outcasts, but we’re the ones who truly see resonates powerfully.

The Shocking Cultural Revelations: Where Does the Game End?

Is QAnon just a game? Or is it a new brand of reality-bending activism? The short answer is that QAnon sits in a liminal space. For participants, it is a serious quest. For some outside observers, it’s a collective fiction manipulated by the cunning or the unscrupulous. And perhaps both are true simultaneously. If the last decade has taught us anything, it’s that lines between the digital and physical worlds are more porous than ever imagined. A game can be used to manipulate election outcomes. A cryptic puzzle can spark real-life intimidation campaigns. A piece of espionage fanfiction can galvanize thousands to storm government buildings under the banner of “patriotism.”

An important revelation, gleaned from the BBC Future article “Inside Luxembourg’s Megagame Phenomenon,” is that these large-scale role-playing structures often reveal surprising truths about collective psychology. In a well-run Megagame, participants consistently exhibit behaviors mirroring real political or diplomatic patterns. They form alliances, hoard information, backstab, posture, and fantasize about forging a utopia. With QAnon, we witnessed a sprawling, real-time Megagame with no official referee. The dramatic arcs are shaped by each new puzzle piece, each rumor, each piece of disinformation fed into the system. The result is chaotic brilliance—an emergent narrative that belongs to no single author, yet enthralls millions.

The cultural shock lies in how deeply play has infiltrated serious political and social realms. Politics was once the domain of staid suits on television, monthly op-ed columns, and election cycles we occasionally followed. QAnon, conversely, transforms politics into an always-on puzzle platform, beckoning constant engagement. That reveals a society hungry for meaning, easily enticed by the promise of heroic agency. As Joseph Uscinski at the University of Miami notes, conspiracy theories flourish during moments of social anxiety and disenchantment. When systems feel too big, too corrupt, or too complicated, people yearn for the hidden narrative that can make sense of it all.

A Rare Look Behind the Curtains

Imagine stepping behind the curtains of a massive theater production to find that the stagehands, the lighting technicians, and the directors all have competing scripts they’re trying to enact simultaneously. One might be pushing for comedic farce, another for Shakespearean tragedy, while yet another wants to break the fourth wall entirely. That scenario hints at the layered reality of movements like QAnon, or puzzle phenomena like Cicada 3301. There isn’t a single puppet master controlling everything; rather, there are overlapping circles of influence, opportunistic actors, sincere gamers, trolls, and watchers. The emergent narrative is a Frankenstein’s monster of illusions, half-truths, cynicism, idealism, and raw confusion.

What does that mean for the user who “wakes up” in the middle of the labyrinth? In a sense, it demands a new type of literacy—a “ludic literacy” that can parse gamified illusions, marketing illusions, political illusions, and transmedia illusions. We have to ask: Which puzzle is real and which puzzle is the subterfuge? The thrill of infiltration by cunning intelligence agencies or cunning hacktivists looms over us like a cloak of paranoia.

Cybernetics reminds us that the solution to an overactive system is to disrupt or starve its feedback loops. If a conspiratorial game thrives on continuous engagement, perhaps the only real way to stop it is to break that cycle of reinforcement—to convince participants that the puzzle is either solved or unsolvable. Yet here we face a conundrum: do we kill the illusions only to leave a vacuum for the next game? Because QAnon, for all its controversies, tapped into a primal desire for belonging and cosmic purpose. People want the puzzle. And if QAnon disappears, something else will inevitably arise to fill that existential gap.

A Feeling of Accomplishment and Informed Agency

My hope, dear reader, is that by exploring these labyrinthine threads—QAnon, Cicada 3301, Megagames, espionage fiction, transmedia expansions—you can emerge with a sense of clarity and context that few ever gain. In a world bursting with illusions, half-truths, secret scripts, and colliding realities, knowledge is both your sword and shield. The QAnon movement may be the product of cunning design or emergent mania, or something in-between. Yet it reveals more about our hearts and minds than we might like to admit. We humans are wired for stories, for a hero’s journey, for playing the game—even if it’s the deadliest game in modern politics.

As you close this article, consider the words of Jane McGonigal from her TED Talk, “The Power of Gamification”: “We can harness the power of games to do real work, to solve real problems.” The problem emerges when that power is co-opted for illusions that exploit our hopes and fears. QAnon is a cautionary tale, teaching us that the difference between a beneficial game and a malignant one can hinge on who holds the puppeteer’s strings—and how aware we are of them.

The best we can do is shine a light on the apparatus: to see that the “clues” are meticulously salted in just the right places, that the “heroes” are sometimes antiheroes, and that the “villains” might be figments of our collective imagination. By embracing a deeper form of media literacy, learning to question puzzle narratives, and fostering communities devoted to constructive puzzle-solving rather than destructive illusions, perhaps we can retain the spirit of adventure without succumbing to conspiratorial madness.

For now, the puzzle box remains open. But the more we understand the game, the less likely it is to play us.

Research References: Gamification, QAnon, Cicada 3301, Spycraft, and Megagames

Academic Papers

1. “Gamification of Conspiracy: QAnon as a Participatory Alternate Reality Game”
   • Journal of Digital Media & Interaction
   • Explores QAnon’s mechanics as a crowdsourced ARG, linking cryptic narratives to real-world conspiracy.
2. “Cicada 3301: Cryptographic Puzzles and Online Communities”
   • Journal of Cybersecurity
   • Analyzes Cicada 3301’s cryptographic challenges and their influence on collaborative puzzle-solving cultures.
3. “Live-Action Role-Playing (LARP) and Collective Narrative Building”
   • Games and Culture
   • Discusses LARP dynamics in online communities, with parallels to QAnon’s role-playing elements.
4. “Espionage Fiction and Real-World Intelligence Practices”
   • Intelligence and National Security
   • Examines spy fiction tropes (e.g., Mick Herron’s Slow Horses) and their cultural impact.
5. “Megagames and Social Coordination: Case Studies from Luxembourg”
   • Simulation & Gaming
   • Reviews organizational strategies in European Megagames and their societal implications.

Books

1. “LikeWar: The Weaponization of Social Media” by P.W. Singer & Emerson T. Brooking
   • Discusses QAnon’s gamified disinformation tactics.
2. "Mick Herron’s Slow Horses Series
   • Explores themes of bureaucratic espionage, resonating with QAnon’s “deep state” narratives.
3. “Reality is Broken” by Jane McGonigal
   • Seminal work on gamification’s psychological and social impacts.
4. “The Cryptopians” by Laura Shin
   • Touches on decentralized communities, relevant to Cicada 3301’s ethos.
5. “This Is Not a Game: The Guide to Alternate Reality Gaming” by Dave Szulborski
   • Framework for understanding ARGs like QAnon.

Reports & Think Tank Analyses

1. “QAnon: A Security Threat” (ADL)
   • Analyzes QAnon’s militaristic role-playing and recruitment strategies.
2. “Cicada 3301: A Decade of Cryptographic Mysteries” (RAND Corporation)
   • Technical breakdown of Cicada’s puzzles and their cultural legacy.
3. “Disinformation and Gamification in the EU” (EU DisinfoLab)
   • Links Luxembourg Megagames to broader disinformation ecosystems.
4. “The Role of Espionage Fiction in Modern Conspiracy Culture” (Pew Research)
   • Surveys public perceptions of spycraft in QAnon narratives.

Articles & Commentaries

1. “QAnon Is a LARP. But for the Players, the Stakes Are All Too Real” (The Atlantic)
   • Discusses QAnon’s blend of fiction and reality.
2. “Cicada 3301: The Internet’s Most Mysterious Puzzle” (Wired)
   • Investigates Cicada’s challenges and recruitment tactics.
3. “Slow Horses and the Seduction of Spycraft” (The Guardian)
   • Analyzes Herron’s influence on conspiracy subcultures.
4. “Inside Luxembourg’s Megagame Phenomenon” (BBC Future)
   • Profiles European Megagame designers and participants.

Multimedia Resources

1. Documentary: Q: Into the Storm (HBO)
   • Traces QAnon’s evolution as a participatory narrative.
2. Podcast: Rabbit Hole (The New York Times)
   • Episode on Cicada 3301 and online puzzle communities.
3. TED Talk: “The Power of Gamification” by Jane McGonigal
   • Discusses game design’s impact on collective action.

Key Experts

1. Joseph Uscinski (University of Miami)
   • Authority on conspiracy theories and QAnon.
2. Jane McGonigal (Institute for the Future)
   • Leading researcher on gamification and ARGs.
3. Mick Herron
   • Author of Slow Horses, offering insights into spy fiction’s cultural role.

Events & Conferences

1. DEF CON Crypto Village
   • Features talks on Cicada 3301 and cryptographic challenges.
2. Game Developers Conference (GDC)
   • Sessions on Megagame design and participatory storytelling.

Other Resources

1. Megagame Coalition Website
   • Hub for Megagame rules, case studies, and event listings.
2. Cicada 3301 Archives
   • Repository of past puzzles and solver communities.
3. Bellingcat’s QAnon Investigations
   • Open-source intelligence reports on QAnon’s structure.

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A Game of Worlds: QAnon, Cicada 3301, and the Grand Illusion of Reality

• QAnon as a MegaGame-LARP Phenomenon / Cicada 3301 and “Slow Horses”
• Ong’s Hat: The Beginning: CERN, Many Worlds, MMORPGs (QAnon), ARGs “The Beast”, HALO and Artificial Intelligence
• Transmedia Realms: Humanity’s Great Traverse into Meta
• 𝕏 / XAMMON / X / 1998
• CICADA 3301 - “Slow Horses” - 1231507051321
• DON’T CLICK: 1231507051321 / Sincerely, 𝕏

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Bryant McGill · Gamification: QAnon, Cicada 3301, and the need for "Ludic Literacy" to Navigate a Gamified World