Sponsored By: Prozac
Time Salvating: three minutes, sixteen seconds.
It's a good thing God mellowed after having a kid, because somebody would be righteously smited over this otherwise.
And so it was that The Writer was the beneficiary of extreme generosity on behalf of The Community. And The Community said unto him, “Go forth, or possibly even third, and write ye reviews of yon games.”
But the writer looked upon the bounty laid before him, and wept. “Oh, what am I to do?” He cried. “Your generosity is too great, and I am overwhelmed. How can I possibly write this many reviews?”
And The Community smiled, and replied, “Just take your time. No rush.”
That is when The Writer knew. “Time!” Said he. “Time is the key to all!”
And so The Writer began to play each game, one hour in its turn. Give or take, that is, depending upon whether he wanted to play that much, for it is written that no iPhone-port shall command more time than a decently problematic bowel movement. (Lavatory 4:27)
And at the end of each hour, The Writer was inspired to write, and was filled with joy. He shared his writings with The Community, who took them kindly and said, “This’ll do.”
Until one day The Writer was presented a dilemma: a game that featured controversial subject matter and was an iPhone port. He was filled with trepidation as he surveyed the choice before him. Would he write a blandly informative review, detailing mechanics and graphics and assessing an arbitrary number to something called “tilt?” Or would he be bold, and attempt to find humor in the premise and execution of the game?
This choice is one that writers of all stripes must face at some point in their lives, and is no less difficult for being so clichéd. So The Writer sat, looking at the iPad he occasionally wrote with, and pondered. He pondered what was the right thing to do, he pondered what the costs of making the wrong choice would be. Mainly he pondered whether he had enough bottle caps to build a nuclear power plant, or if he should just build and upgrade a standard one.
Inspiration struck him: He would be bold and, hopefully, funny. For, to The Writer, there is no greater sin than to be dull, and a thousand words about an iPhone puzzle game would be nothing if not dull.
So he wrote, assured in his heart that even if the review bombed, he would likely be given a chance next week, and anyway what's life without a few risks?
But what of the game? Well, as it turned out, with all the garment-rending and teeth-gnashing, the Writer forgot to review it.
Such are the vicissitudes of the comedy reviewer.
Thus ends our homily. Please turn to page forty-seven in your hymnal, “A Mighty Boulder Rocks Our Lord.”
Will The Writer turn the other mouse-click?
It's an iOS port of a physics-based puzzle game. I would be hard-pressed to spend more time with it even if the premise of redirecting boulders to kill Roman soldiers in an effort to Save Jesus Christ didn't make me vaguely uncomfortable.
So no, I'm pretty much washing my hands of this game.
Aw geez. I did not just write that, did I? Well, it’s etched in stone now…
Ok, I’m just going to stop.
Is it the Dark Souls of vaguely blasphemous iPhone ports?
Sometimes it seems like this sort of game is designed to be infuriatingly difficult. While I didn't progress far enough into the game to hit that particular wall, I am utterly convinced that it's in there. However, since all physics-based iOS ports are infuriatingly difficult, to be the Dark Souls of its genre it needs to impress me with its malicious disregard for the player’s time. In that light, I'm going to give Save Jesus three Johns out of sixteen.