Ok, so I just recently played Passage. Go play it right now.

No it's fine, I will be right here when you get back...





Wasn't it freakin' awesome? I love how you have no idea what's going on until you figure out like...four minutes in that you are aging. I love how you never quite know what the little chests do, or what that countdown is for. Hell, you barely even know if you're going to right direction.

Now couldn't all of those things relate to life in general? I know that I'm not certain where I'm going in life, aging seems to sneak up on the majority of us, and I didn't even know there was a pixelated damsel to snatch a ride with until further reading. The craziest thing?...She makes it so you cannot enter certain paths. There are too many messages being portrayed that I might need to sit down and play a couple more times. Even then though.

Oh yes, back to the actual meaning of this blog. I think it's the ambiguous nature of titles like Passage, Braid, and Today I Die that help drive the message that the artist intended, not to mention also anchor the player to the game. Like in Braid, you spend however long it takes to work each theme to your advantage to complete the level. It sort of creates this bond of sorts between you and Tim. Look at Passage, you don't even know what's going on until you notice the hair on your head starts to recede. There's always a point in games like that when "it just clicks". If you knew what happened in Passage at the end, or halfway through, or that you could find this girl avatar to follow you, but you'd be barred from certain areas...there wouldn't be that sense of feeling.

So, I say, throwing in some obscurity as to what the player must do next to further his/her gaming experience gives you moments like when you turn into a tombstone, or your character suddenly floats to the top, dissipating all the evil demons in the sea.

Tell me what you think.

Oh and the picture of the cat...he's a cute lil' guy.