Eight Last Signs in the Desert
Lichene (Laughingpineapple & McKid)
There is a certain joy to be found in Mad Libs. The juxtaposition of unrelated concepts brings a nice spot of frisson to the soul, and the ridiculousness of the whole can be kind of delightful.
There is a certain wisdom to be found in Tarot readings. The juxtaposition of unrelated concepts can rejigger your thoughts, and help you gain insight you didn’t know you had into things you thought you knew. (Well, that’s how I view Tarot-like things, at any rate. YMMV.)
Eight Last Signs in the Desert leans hard into both. It drives headfirst into the ridiculous, daring you to read something sublime in the result. It obviously is not taking itself seriously, and at the same time it obviously is written to be taken seriously.
I am not the kind of person who has found themselves able to find much sublime in what I know to be ridiculous, so the result, for me, was Still More Ridiculousness. Which was, like Mad Libs, kind of fun, in a goofy kind of way, as long as it doesn’t go on too long. This game barely skated by under my ridiculousness tolerance level, and waved as it bounced/rolled/scrambled/defenestrated itself away.
Did the author have anything to say? This felt like a very sincere clown trying to hand me rubber noses and squirt-flower lapels to get me to psychoanalyze myself.
Did I have anything to do? For me? Play Mad Libs. For others, I bet all the craziness could show them something they didn’t know they knew.