My friend Krystal is playing a new game called Coral Island. Well, it is new to her, at least. We got together over a discord call and discussed the nature of the game, and some things about life itself. The below are our collective notes.
The wonderfully absurd world of Coral Island – a place where anti-aliasing is a rare and elusive creature, stalked by frame rates that would make even the most seasoned of gamers weep bitter, jagged tears. But why, you might ask, should such a trivial matter as jagged edges and choppy animations dampen our spirits? Well, my friend, it's because this game is a true exercise in comedic futility.
Imagine, if you will, a boat with a chicken's head affixed to its prow, bobbing merrily across the waves, its beady eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of coherent design principles. Alas, it shall search in vain, for the font in Coral Island is a veritable abomination – a mishmash of kerning nightmares and color choices that would make even the most hardened typographer curl up in the fetal position, rocking back and forth and muttering about the glory days of movable type.
But fear not, for this game is nothing if not inclusive! It allows players to create characters of all shapes and sizes, save for those poor, benighted souls who dare to crave an hourglass figure. Nay, such bourgeois body ideals have no place in the egalitarian utopia of Coral Island, where all must conform to the uniform standards of the amorphous blob.
And what of the objectification of the male form, you ask? Why, it's a positively scandalous affair, with muscular torsos on display for all to see, their rippling pectorals and chiseled abdominals laid bare for the world to ogle. Truly, it's a wonder that the game hasn't been banned in more prudish realms.
But let us not forget the crowning glory of Coral Island: the foliage. Ah, yes, a veritable horticultural hodgepodge, where palm trees and deciduous plants commingle in a bizarre botanical ménage à trois, their leaves and blossoms locked in an eternal, out-of-season embrace that would make even the most hardened botanist blanch.
And yet, through it all, the game persists, a monument to the indomitable spirit of human endeavor – or, perhaps, a cautionary tale about the dangers of overindulging in questionable substances during the design process. Either way, it's a journey worth taking, if only for the sheer absurdity of it all.
At its core, the game is much like Stardew Valley, where one can build things, harvest things, and make their empire of dropped frames look as pristine as their vision allows. If only if it wasn't for the countless grammatical errors and literal trash contained within the game. Your first quest is to "Farm wood".
The linguistic travesty that is "farming wood" in Coral Island deserves its own special place in the annals of absurdity. It's a concept so delightfully nonsensical that even the chicken-headed boat would pause mid-voyage and let out a bewildered cluck.
Imagine, if you will, a verdant grove of mighty oaks and towering pines, their branches swaying gently in the breeze, utterly oblivious to the fact that they are mere crops, destined to be "farmed" like so many radishes or turnips. Why, it's enough to make even the most seasoned arborist clutch their pruning shears in abject horror.
But alas, such is the twisted logic of Coral Island, where the very act of "harvesting" wood is deemed too pedestrian, too mundane for its grandiose vision. No, here we must "farm" these noble specimens, tending to them with the same care and attention one might lavish upon a field of corn or wheat.
Perhaps, in some parallel universe, there exists a race of sentient trees, their leafy crowns nodding sagely as they impart the wisdom of the ages to their saplings, instructing them in the fine art of waiting patiently for the "wood farmer" to arrive and reap their bountiful harvest of timber.
Or maybe, just maybe, the developers simply got a little too carried away with their metaphors, losing sight of the fact that trees are not, in fact, cultivated crops.
Regardless of the reason, the notion of "farming wood" stands as a testament to the delightfully absurd lengths to which Coral Island will go to keep its players guessing – a whimsical reminder that sometimes, the most bizarre concepts can take root in the most unexpected of places, blossoming into full-fledged gameplay mechanics that leave us scratching our heads and questioning the very nature of reality itself.
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I tried it months ago in a game pass. I want to play it again.