Plastering IndieCade East with Party Poetry
For this version of Art Boy Sin, we used a new format for the scoreboard with Polaroids and heart stickers. It went over quite well. Check out some of the awesome party poetry people came up with.
The Onion’s AV Club had a nice write up of the evening with some thoughts on each of the games:
Art Boy Sin
Makeshift poems papered the museum’s walls that night, courtesy of those playing Art Boy Sin, a self-described mashup of street art and kitchen magnets with words on them. Using computer paper (each sheet featuring a letter or a punctuation mark) and tape in lieu of magnets, the player-poets create unexpected works in the same way they would piece together a magnetized sentence while killing time in the kitchen before dinner. The novelty of Art Boy Sin comes in when you hunt down the photographer, who has to snap a Polaroid of your masterpiece to preserve it before other poets repurpose its letters for their own work. Photos of finished poems get tacked on a scoreboard, which passersby anoint with hearts, just like on Instagram. And much like my own experience with Instagram, my poem of “I FLEX, SUN” went unnoticed by the masses—plus, I couldn’t get ahold of the photographer before my work of art was reduced to “I FLE, SU.” Either way, I doubt I could have bested this future laureate’s lauded interpretation of QWOP.
They also had some thoughts on Zombie Ward:
Back at the main floor, I found a space cluttered with cardboard boxes stacked in deliberate towers. Despite an aversion to today’s undead-obsessed culture, I felt a sense of journalistic obligation to try out Zombie Ward. It’s a party game about surviving the zombie apocalypse in one isolated ward of a city. The game begins with a single zombie in a group of human survivors. The zombie gets to walk a few steps to infect a human, and then the humans get to take a few steps in the hope of escape. Hidden among the boxes are Nerf guns with which the humans can fight back. I was lucky enough to find a gun in the first round, but true to the apocalyptic vibe, the gun jammed, and I became zombie meat. There is no happy ending to this story, just more zombies and people pretending to be zombies.