Almost nothing can be gained from pinball. The only payoff is a numerical substitution for pride. The losses, however, are considerable. You could probably erect bronze statues of every American president (assuming you are willing to include Richard Nixon) with the coins you will lose, while your lost time is irreplaceable.
When you are standing before the machine engaged in your solitary act of consumption, another guy is plowing through Proust, while still another guy is doing some heavy petting with his girlfriend while watching True Grit at the local drive-in. They're the ones who may wind up becoming groundbreaking novelists or happily married men.
No, pinball leads nowhere. The only result is a glowing replay light. Replay, replay, replay--it makes you think the whole aim of the game is to achieve a form of eternity.
We know very little about eternity, although we can infer its existence.
The goal of pinball is self-transformation, not self-expression. It involves not the expansion of the ego but its diminution. Not analysis but all-embracing acceptance.
If it's self-expression, ego expansion, or analysis you're after, the tilt light will exact its unsparing revenge.

Have a nice game!