


In order to have fun, I need to pay the game money. I keep losing these 10-minute chunks of my life and there's nothing to show for it. Over and over and over.Įvery time that failure comes, I get angrier and angrier. Right, so everything in this level is great for 10 minutes, then catastrophic failure - make some tweaks and try it again - everything is fine for 10 minutes, then slightly less catastrophic failure. It's another thing to develop a solution and then wait 10 minutes to see if that solution works. It's one thing to consider a problem, develop a solution, and then immediately test that solution to see if it works. Well, okay, I did spend some time trying to perfect one particular level. But did I have hours to spend to do that? Um, no. If I spent hours perfecting my strategy, I could make it through the level unscathed. What was truly insidious about this particular game was that I felt like the failure was my fault. Do you really want to waste all that time and start over? You've been working on this level for a good 10 minutes already. Cue the game asking for some currency for a chance for you to continue. Even more than that, they seem challenging in a balanced way, but just when you think you have things under control, something terrible happens and you lose the level. But then you start encountering levels that are brutal in their difficulty. This is great, though, because my brain enjoys harder and more complex. You accomplish goals and have a good time and things get progressively harder and more complex. Stop me if this sounds familiar: you start playing and everything is easy and fun. So over Thanksgiving I got sucked into a random, "free-to-play" Flash game, and I became increasingly disturbed at just how not-fun it became.

I can play something cool for 5 or 10 minutes and then get back to doing whatever other thing I was doing.

I play Flash games in particular, though, because they're typically pretty short experiences. We play games to have fun - to stimulate that pleasure center in our brains, because that's what humans do. And, sure, there's a lot of amateur garbage out there, but there's another side to that spectrum that is pure awesome fun times.Īnd awesome fun times is really all anyone is after. We live in an age where people have the power to create whatever they want. There are a lot of great gems out there made by people with great ideas and a bit of programming knowledge. After a refresher course tutorial that familiarises the player with the various rotating arms, element linking tools, and techniques used to program the engine, the player is placed with a noble house, and their alchemist career begins in earnest.I like to play Flash games. Alchemists utilise a tool called the transmutation engine, an infinitely configurable machine for transforming combinations of elements into new substances. The player is cast as a new graduate of the Imperial University’s College of Alchemical Engineering. Now out in early access, Opus Magnum is one of his most approachable creations yet. All this and more is possible in Opus Magnum, a most elegant mechanical puzzle game from the maker of SpaceChem.įrom the production-line chemistry of SpaceChem to the delightfully dense electronics programming of Shenzhen I/O, game developer Zach Barth has spent years creating puzzle games that tap the power of sequential programming. Behold the marvellous science of alchemy, in which a modest molecule of lead, through careful programming of the transmutation engine, can be transformed into shimmering gold.
