I haven’t actually played Space Whale yet (my Internet connection has been nearly nonexistent all day, so no downloads for me), but I’m pretty sure it’s already my favorite game of all time. It is, as you might have surmised, about a gigantic whale in space and his endlessly ravenous quest to grow even more gigantic. So he languidly floats about to soothing piano music and inhales any bits of planetary plankton bold – or foolish – enough to cross his path. Like you do. In spite of its rather apocalyptic setup (the universe is in the process of, um, collapsing) and amazingly caps-conducive name, Space Whale seems quite relaxing. Wade slowly into the break’s healing waters to see for yourself.
Wasn’t that nice? Also of interest: Space Whale ties its soundtrack directly to your actions, so it’s got a few strands of rhythm game in its celestial DNA as well.
“A psychedelic explosion of colour, fish and meta-galactic mammals. Swing through space using the gravity of planets, growing bigger as you eat until you can devour entire galaxies. Orbiting different planets causes different instruments to blend into the music and chomping planetoids plays musical notes with the cosmic cacophony.”
You can download the full game (which is for some reason still labeled as a demo) for free here. As soon as my bridge to that vast star sea of knowledge, dreams, and senselessly rude comments known as the Internet is back at full functionality, I desperately hope to give it a go myself. But, until then, how is Space Whale? Am I justified in preemptively declaring it the zenith of our medium and probably the most important single life experience any of us will ever have?
Also, because it’s inevitable, FACEWHALE. There you go. Have at it.