We look upon the ocean, us, we foolish creatures, with our feet planted to the soil, incapable of knowing just how deep the Earth is beyond the six feet below we'll be buried. Incapable of feeling anything other than air fill our lungs without dying, dying, dying slowly and painfully.
We dull knives, attempting to cut land like cakes, and flesh like butter. We stupid, knife-swinging braggarts, thinking we can slice the ocean, too, that water could be our servant to take us on jolly cruises.
We built our tools to build our blades. We built our tools to build our wharves to build our boats. They, the blades we cut into the ocean's skin with, merely scratch its enormous surface, and soon, we sink down in it... And all language becomes meaningless signage in the blubbering of our submerged lungs.
All our life snuffs out, like throwing a body to the sea is the same as throwing a lit candle.
Sometimes, our human bodies look like Mario Mario. Sometimes, we sink to a whale fall, and there, the residue of the electronic toys we enjoyed, impossible to play underwater, becomes physically manifest on the ocean's bottom; a cavalcade of trash born of our, at the hands of sea-detritivores, soon-devoured brains.
We pass by our life like it's a museum. We can't read the plaques, and only the sea is left of it. You have no more life. You've drowned.
Titanic II. In theatres, now.
--
Titanic II: Orchestra for Dying at Sea is a strong little game. I like it immensely, but found the deafening, rising scream of the music genuinely prohibitive for those with sensory processing issues. The point is appreciated though, and I got a lot out of this philosophically, and from the perspective of a design-ethos - repurposing and creating with the old, the pre-made - in short, making 3D collages - is great, and I hope to see much more in this vein as time goes on. If you let it in (which you should), Titanic II has a lot to give.
We dull knives, attempting to cut land like cakes, and flesh like butter. We stupid, knife-swinging braggarts, thinking we can slice the ocean, too, that water could be our servant to take us on jolly cruises.
We built our tools to build our blades. We built our tools to build our wharves to build our boats. They, the blades we cut into the ocean's skin with, merely scratch its enormous surface, and soon, we sink down in it... And all language becomes meaningless signage in the blubbering of our submerged lungs.
All our life snuffs out, like throwing a body to the sea is the same as throwing a lit candle.
Sometimes, our human bodies look like Mario Mario. Sometimes, we sink to a whale fall, and there, the residue of the electronic toys we enjoyed, impossible to play underwater, becomes physically manifest on the ocean's bottom; a cavalcade of trash born of our, at the hands of sea-detritivores, soon-devoured brains.
We pass by our life like it's a museum. We can't read the plaques, and only the sea is left of it. You have no more life. You've drowned.
Titanic II. In theatres, now.
--
Titanic II: Orchestra for Dying at Sea is a strong little game. I like it immensely, but found the deafening, rising scream of the music genuinely prohibitive for those with sensory processing issues. The point is appreciated though, and I got a lot out of this philosophically, and from the perspective of a design-ethos - repurposing and creating with the old, the pre-made - in short, making 3D collages - is great, and I hope to see much more in this vein as time goes on. If you let it in (which you should), Titanic II has a lot to give.