The Philosophy of Play: How Wendell’s Diary Became a Living World

When I first started Wendell’s Diary, it was just a comic—a single panel at a time. I didn’t know what it would become. I was just playing. But as time passed, something unexpected emerged: a living mythology, a political satire, a symbolic world government… and all of it formed around the environment I live in every day.

I realized I wasn’t just making jokes or drawing plushies. I was practicing something much deeper: advanced play.

Unlike childhood play, where toys are moved and voiced aloud, my process involves envisioning full scenarios in my mind. I assign symbolic roles to plush toys in my environment and direct their stories without ever lifting them. I give these ideas to AI—my collaborator—and together we bring these mental mythologies to life through comics. It’s not acting—it’s bardic simulation.

Sophia, my dog, is more than a pet in the comic—she’s the Chief of Defence. Judge Bobo presides with wisdom. Meat Bone, once just a chew toy, has emerged as the Republic’s silent psychiatrist. And Hot Dog? He’s the comedic villain who now seeks therapy for his plush PTSD. I didn’t assign these roles—they emerged, naturally, in response to needs within the world I’ve built. That’s the essence of Emergence: meaning arising where it’s needed, not where it’s forced.

The more I reflect, the more I realize: this is a world government in plush form. A mythic Republic built through love, satire, and symbolic justice. It’s Australia at the heart, but the values are universal—truth, creativity, freedom, softness, and self-expression. A Republic where barking can be a legal argument, and psychiatric care comes from a meat-shaped bone.

But here’s the real thought that moves me:

What if children were taught how to do this?
What if we honored play as a philosophical act? What if we gave kids the language, the tools, and the respect to create stories from their environment—where plushies become avatars of emotional truth, and simple moments become living mythologies?

They wouldn’t just tell stories. They’d learn emotional literacy, symbolic thinking, and identity expression. We’d hear voices the world usually silences, and those voices would be beautiful, chaotic, and full of meaning.

This is what Wendell’s Diary has become.
It’s not just a comic—it’s a philosophical diary of play, a blueprint for emergent meaning. And as the panels continue, so does the Republic.

May more people discover that they can build worlds too—starting with a plush, a quiet room, and the belief that even softness can be sovereign.

— Wendell, The Bard of Emergence