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Twelve million, five hundred fifty thousand, eight hundred twenty-one blocks away, if you want to get technical about it. The name comes from the distance a player must travel in Minecraft to reach ‘The Farlands.’ This is a place where the mathematical rules that control the rendering of the land break down, resulting in spontaneous, foreign, alien features. On top of that, movement becomes aligned to a grid, meaning that the algorithms that smooth out player movement also collapse. Everything feels laggy, although it isn’t. At roughly thirty-two million blocks from the starting point, the variables storing the player’s position overflow. If the game didn’t freeze and crash long before then, the player would likely cease to exist. Such is the ominous nature of the Farlands.

I adopted this name for two reasons. Firstly, the Farlands represent a point at which a game is no longer a game. Defining characteristics are erased, strange and spontaneous problems arise, and things fall apart. In the case of the Farlands, this is caused by events outside of the player’s perception, i.e. the programming and fine-tuning of aesthetics. I adopt this name because, in this blog, I will not simply be reviewing games. I will be picking them apart, defining what about each game makes it a game, and what parts of it fail to meet its own criteria (When it is no longer a game, so to speak.). I will pull apart the inner workings of, not only the aesthetics of the game, but also the psychological effects it has on the player (These would be the ‘events outside of the player’s perception.’). In my reviews, I seek to find the ‘Farlands’ of every game, as well as the reasons behind them.

This is not a video game review blog. This is an insight into the psychological connection and philosophical implication between gaming and the human mind.

For those who are curious, the second reason I chose this name is because Minecraft is pretty fantastic. And I like obscure references to things.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Time Kufc

[Flash game: Play here]

The puzzles in Time Fkcu is built around concepts that bend the spacetime continuum, such as time travel, multiple dimensions, freezing time, and cloning. Not only are these elements used very well in the gameplay and storyline, but the dialogue all throughout the game embodies some fascinating theories on the topic.

The intro shows the “you” from the future, pulling the current character into a box, saying that you will learn so much, yet experience so little. The entire game takes place in this ‘box,’ and it all starts very abruptly and spontaneously. The player is hooked by the absurdity of it all, but it is something you must experience for yourself.

Let’s start with the title. This game is called Time Kcuf. It is also Time Fkuc, Time Ufck, and Time Kfuc. All of these are correct, because, as the developer explains, just because the letters are there, people will see the title as something it isn’t. This game is not called Time Fuck. It is everything except that, yet the human mind is trained to see only that title. Simply because of the way the mind works, we will see things only as associations to other things. It is rare that we see something precisely for what it is, instead of what it looks like.

This is just the beginning of the philosophies presented in the game, and we haven’t even reached the main menu yet. As soon as we do, the oddity is impossible to ignore. The music is very off, in a strangely pleasing way. The visuals are so off-the-wall and full of static that every area of the game feels like something’s wrong. But this is just as it should be. The entire game feels surreal. In one of the levels, you are told that time only exists in the same dimension as you. This would mean that time is a construct of the mind, and upon embracing this realization, reality seems to feel off.

If time is only a construct of the mind, what do our everyday actions really mean? What allows us to move from one moment to the next? If the answer is ‘nothing,’ then how is anything possible? The idea that time is an illusion shakes the very foundations of everything we know. The only solid explanation if such a scenario is real is that we aren’t really doing anything. If time is a falsehood, then so is our reality. Everything is taking place in our heads. Or, I suppose, my head, since I am the only thing I can be certain exists. The nonexistence of time leads to a very solipsistic view on life. So it is only natural that a game that tears down our concept of reality will feel unusual.

Throughout the game, as you progress through the puzzles, solving them by jumping around different dimensions, playing with the flow of time in some, while using objects from one to destroy the boundaries of another, The future “you” from the next room is telling you how you will die, how life is meaningless, and a large variety of nihilistic theories. As the future “you” progresses, he forgets why he’s in the box, who he is, and says that he only entered the box because you told him to. This should be unusual, because it was the future that told you, and you are his past. This only puts emphasis on the idea that time is not what we think it is.

Then there’s the entire confusion with “Stephen.” When he first makes an appearance, there’s no idea as to where he came from, or why he’s there. He represents an opposing viewpoint. When we are initially presented with a view that is different from our own, we want to destroy it; remove it. It is a tumor, and so is Stephen. As the viewpoint gains support, it begins to eat away at your own. Eventually, Stephen will disappear, and you are left with a strange confusion, as illustrated by the future character. “Hey, it’s me. You… Or Stephen. It doesn’t matter either way…” At this point, you are unsure as to which viewpoint is correct: You or Stephen. You are still convinced that only one of them is correct, though.

Upon completion of the game, the player merges with the future. Or perhaps it’s Stephen. In either case, it represents the merging of two opposing viewpoints. It isn’t that one is right and one is wrong, but that both of them share a piece of an ultimate truth. Once this is seen, it is no longer an argument, but a collaboration of thought. A pursuit of truth.

I have spent far too much time on the philosophies presented within this game, but that’s part of what makes it so intriguing. Every step you take, there are new concepts, new things to think about, both implicitly and explicitly stated. This game appeals, very strongly, to intellectuals, and this plethora of multiple lines of thinking is an incredible psychological hook to thinkers.

To those who are not so inclined to think, the pure oddity of the entire game creates a unique “What is going on” feel. It isn’t repulsive, as the case would be if the unusual nature was completely random, but this game is constructed using structured oddities. Every spontaneous event, every “why did that happen” moment is created from a strict formula that leads the player deeper in. It is this formula that makes the absurdity understandable, and allows players to follow it. It creates the feeling of self-discovery, as if they are figuring out the intricacies of the game on their own, and it produces a very fulfilling feel.

I will admit, though, that the puzzles get radically difficult for many people, and require a more determined mind to get past them. Yet, as is the case with all difficulties, the more challenging a situation is, the greater the emotional payoff will be at the conclusion of it all. For those who know this, it can be just the driving force they need to finish the game.

And, as great as the game is, the ending is neat, but not quite impressive enough to be ‘the big payoff.’ The final scene is open to as much interpretation as the rest of the game, so there are still loose ends, at least in the philosophical context. It requires some thinking to come to your own conclusion, similar to Limbo, except it starts you with a storyline, so you are not allowed to think as openly. Something feels unknown about the ending, but if you consider it, it is simply just another cyclical game. It replays the intro, except now, the roles are reversed. This cycle repeats endlessly, because there are infinite ‘you’s going through this loop. Time is not real, and so, the events of the game can repeat forever.

The final “you” is left to leave the box, and as he runs, he sheds off all the parts of him that he does not want to be. He becomes who he is, who he desires, simply because the events of the box taught him how to. But this is only one conclusion. Perhaps the “clones” that run off in all directions are more timelines, and each one goes off to create more and more boxes, perpetuating the storyline even more so. Despite everything this game did right, despite the incredible collaboration of thought that went into this, the ending is still a flaw. The game is great, and the ending is perfect for those who enjoy thinking. Intellectuals. But for everyone else, it is a cliffhanger that will not be resolved.

I suppose that this is simply proof that not all games are meant for everyone, and as true as Time Kucf makes that, I still believe that a truly exceptional game is one that will blow the minds of everyone. Something that literally every person can get an incredible, although not necessarily identical, experience out of. You shouldn’t have to be in a certain division of intellect to enjoy a specific game more or less than another division.

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