Through my interactions with Will Wright I’ve had a chance to see Spore at it’s nascent stages. It’s INCREDIBLE. This game will change the conceptual landscape of computer gaming / simulations.
BTW, Will loves chocolate and robots and wants to come visit.
link of Brian Eno and Will at Long Now presentation.
here’s a link of Robin Williams playing Spore.
from http://www.1up.com/do/previewPage?cId=3162206
PREVIEWS: SPORE |
| By Sam Kennedy 08/22/2007 |
Spore is finished. That’s the first thing I learn as I head in to my play session at the Leipzig Games Convention. Obviously, the game isn’t finished finished (as in ready to ship), but in terms of its content offering, it’s all there—the game is complete. At this point, EA is spending the next several months paying attention to feedback from players to tweak and polish Spore for its release next Spring. But otherwise, it’s done. So here I have the “final” game in front of me to play. And I’m the very first person outside of EA to get this opportunity. Ironically, I had to trek halfway across the globe to play a game being developed right across the San Francisco bay. But whatever. I’m too excited. I’m also kind of intimidated. Having a game so massive in scope at my complete command—at least for my all-too-brief gameplay session—is pretty daunting. Where do I even start? I decide to go with the cell form; I figure, might as well start from the beginning. Following an incredible intro sequence (one that doesn’t hiccup at all, unlike how we’d seen transitions in previous showings) taking me from far out in space to a crash landing in a planet’s ocean, I begin to control my little blob. Spore begins much like the game flOw, actually. I swim around and begin to eat organisms—very basic at first and then larger ones as I grow in size and experience. As in flOw, I move up levels as I progress, each time taking me closer to the ocean’s surface—though meanwhile introducing me to new creatures, challenges, and experiences. Even early on, it’s all extremely experimental. I need to explore and see which creatures I can eat; whether I can digest them yet, whether I’ll become sick if I devour them, or whether they’ll attack me in return (some have nasty spikes, some emit electricity, and some are just, well, way bigger than me).
Once I’ve attained enough DNA points (essentially “learning” or “experience” points), I get to start spending them on my character. He’s Bob. (All creatures are Bob as a default). I start to play around, making him leaner or fatter, then adding basic physical accoutrements. But almost immediately I realize just how overwhelming this can be. Why? Because I have to be willing to concede that experimentation is simply part of the game. Putting an eye here, or a mouth there; there is no right answer. Unlike, say, a Nintendo Mii, the choices I make aren’t merely cosmetic—they ultimately greatly affect my gameplay. And there’s a lot of weight that comes with that. I decide to give my little guy a mouth on each side of his body instead of one big one in the front—which, although one might think would be beneficial, is probably a mistake. Once I return to the environment, I realize that eating certain enemies is more difficult; I need to attack them in a sweeping motion in order to effectively use the mouths. The next time I have enough DNA points, the first thing I do is fix up Bob’s mouth. |


