The name says it all for this one. At first I assumed it was an ironic deployment on some 20 Jazz Funk Greats shit, like “haha, postcards! Those cheesy little idealized frames for your gaudy-ass vacation where you went to someone’s home like it was a carnival.” And I guess that’s a read you could take if you were being incredibly uncharitable, but then you’d have to explain the weight which lifted every time I plugged through the chaos of thecatamite’s thorny satirical comedy and into a large, unobstructed picture of a human’s written accounts of... Experience?

That’s what this whole game’s about, right? We talk about texture a lot in games, often in the utilitarian sense, but here it’s being employed to such an extreme extent. This collage type of game has been made many times, yet it’s this one which elides barriers and nearly all traditional forms of interaction games have to show just how MUCH we are responsible for, good or bad. It certainly helps that thecatamites has a truly deft pen and easel game. There's some really striking zine-like moments often tied up with genuinely funny byte-sized characters in here.

I hate to speak in such general terms for a game which has some HIGHLY specific pathos coursing through it, but I guess that’s inevitable. It’s hard to convey this decathlon of synapse roadways that loop into and through and above and below and around each other with words alone.