Not everyone can access the same text?  I was not sure how long these conversations can be… I played a bit for the first time in my life.

“Galatea has what I call a multilinear plot: unlike traditional IF, it has no single path to victory. Instead there are a large number of endings, some more satisfactory than others, of which many could be considered “win” states. It takes only a few minutes of play to arrive at an ending, but considerably longer to find all of them.” Player

I did not get to any victory…what does anyone win?

“From this perspective, it’s all about growing up and learning to understand what’s alien. It’s about dropping pretenses, egos and prejudices. It’s about realizing the value of others’ creations, and never losing sight of your own role relating to them. It’s about learning to accept criticism, even as a critic. It’s about becoming more measured, but also understanding that wearing your heart on your sleeve is okay. It is, in essence, the same journey I’m having to embark on, as I take my first steps into this scary world of writing about videogames.” Player

Well, that’s what I’m supposed to be doing. Very strangely I did not get a “true” communication here but the experience was interesting in how the computer gave a voice…

think about What do you want to think about? >

kiss What do you want to kiss? >

you You can’t see any such thing. >

look The Gallery’s End Unlit, except for the single spotlight; unfurnished, except for the defining swath of black velvet. And a placard on a little stand. On the pedestal is Galatea.

>goodbye “Well. I suppose I’ll be going,” you say. “Very well,” she remarks. Her voice is naturally low — alto tones — but there’s something wrong with the modulation, as though at any moment she might start to scream.

>life (Galatea about the life) “What do you know about life?” you ask her. (General questions: you can almost always find ones that haven’t been anticipated.) “Nothing,” she says, “except what I saw of his; and that seldom made any sense to me. He told me that people are born, and that they die, and that there are stages in between– childhood, adolescence… I asked him why he didn’t carve me as a child so that I could grow up.” There’s a pregnant pause. “I never heard him laugh so hard as when I asked him that. And he said that I certainly had the brain of a child.” There’s a moment of stillness.