It takes lots of practice.
--Too Much Joy, "Clowns," Son of Sam I Am
I can relate.
I'm glad we got in the Way Back Machine (way back being merely the beginning of the year) to discuss Kentucky Route Zero. Firstly, because on this my third playthrough, I yet again discovered things I hadn't seen or realized were present in the game before. Secondly, because I wrote a little bit about it earlier in the year, but probably not as much as the game deserves.
The game is so very smart, so very fun, and so very challenging (from an intellectual perspective, not a ludic one). The kind of game I truly love, the puzzle, the labyrinth, the joke of attempting to unweave the inscrutable (that joke that has defined three decades or so of whatever I am).
Forgot to note that we posted a podcast on Rogue Legacy last week. Taking a look at the end of the game led me to even further developing some of my ideas about the game and its economic implications, which I did touch on in a recent column but maybe even more so here.
Upon entering the second bathroom in the house that comprises the totality of Gone Home's game world, I was struck by the fact that there are no mirrors in this house or this game, a game very much about recognizing others and exploring the self. So, this post is about the implications of having no mirrors, no seemingly direct access to seeing someone's face, and how often, as we do in Gone Home, we only have the ability to interpret via the things and imagery that a person has constructed about themselves.