I dreamed last night that I was playing a highly immersive IF Comp game written and designed by a genius 10 year-old child. At one stage I chatted to David Attenborough, who was also very impressed by the game. There were also a LOT of women giving birth all at once, which I sure hope is just a metaphor.
Presumably this dream was prophetic and Genius Kid is going to blow us all away in October.
And David Attenborough will be judging us, so be sure to include plenty of scientifically accurate animal characters.
I had an IFComp dream a few months ago. It involved a game entered in the comp by zarf that featured digital entities called “monkeys” (represented by purple spots) that appeared whenever you made a mistake and multiplied exponentially from there. I don’t remember the details, but the monkeys got in your way and made the game impossibly difficult. The worst part was that they could also spread to the other games in the comp (in the dream, all the games were hosted online and this was achieved through some kind of cross-site scripting hack), so if you happened to play zarf’s game first, all the games might become unplayable.
I don’t think this is a prophetic dream - it probably represents coronavirus anxiety more than anything else - but perhaps this year it would be wise to download the games before playing where possible just to be on the safe side.
I can’t hide that I ROTFL’d wildly: do you realise that we’re currently in the IFComp season ?
no need of good’ol Siggy nor of the Patriarch Joseph for figuring the meaning of this dream… it’s related to October 1st
Hmmm. This brought up an idea for a competition where you implement and submit a game you dreamed about.
One of my reviews for the imaginary games jam was one I dreamed about:
For Infocom’s first z8 release to be a literal cave-crawler seems like a directive from the marketing department, but did the marketing department really suggest a simultaneous release of games called “Deadweight” and “Dreadnought”? The additional computational space allowed by the .z8 format has been devoted to surprisingly deep and broad implementations of the conversations your suite-mate has with you while you’re trying to shave every morning–which the game forces you to return to the surface to do, even after you’ve started exploring the hole in your dorm room floor that the titular deadweight opened up. His chatter certainly doesn’t explain what’s going on down there, but it casts a dreamlike resonance over cave-crawling puzzles that formally don’t break any new ground. (See what I just did?) Though I never did figure out why a cloaked hooded secret society was meeting in our other suite-mate’s room on day 3.
and then it kinda seemed like this was the plot of Aaron Reed’s Subcutanean? But if I were entering this competition I would try to implement Dreadnought.