HELLO.

Well- I hope you would like to play a game, and by play I mean click the same button for two to three minutes and by game I mean text you can read when you click the button.

As a part of my reflection on the sordid work of familiarizing oneself with the composition discipline, I have, utilizing only the most unethical of experimentation methods, horribly transformed my recent essay on Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God (you can read more about it in the analysis lab) into a frustrating, pointless little Twine jaunt about being frustrated and pointless. As you may expect, it is modeled after another masochistic passion of mine: old-timey text adventure games that mostly functioned as an exercise in enduring lethal levels of confusion and bewilderment while wrestling with an omnipresent narrator that thought it was really funny to murder you. Much like the human subject in Calvinist cosmology, you are a wretched little speck wriggling against an inherent, ontological moral filth you will never be able to escape. The game has no choices because you have no choices. It is the apocalyptic intensity of the first great American jeremiad rendered in code.

I understand- This probably sounds like the most fun you have ever had or will ever have. Maganamiously, I've provided the game below for your perusal. You can thank me when we meet in Hell.