Fantastical contraptions picks out another diverting desktop distraction to ease you into the weekend

Another brilliantly executed physics adventure this week. Having built the bridge and other assorted structures Fantastic Contraption now tools you up to build a vehicle. Don’t be fooled by the simple design and kids-tv colour scheme though, this is a hugely demanding game.

One of its great strengths is in the limitations presented to the player. Quite often the tools on offer in building sets such as these can overwhelm the player with choices, no danger of that here as you’re limited to just five. These constraints force some hard creative thinking, as you endeavour to propel your machine to its destination, negotiating the various obstacles the levels present. Such limitations do foster some extraordinary invention, as a quick YouTube search will testify. In fact, even if you can’t face the challenge of trying to design solutions yourself, these movies are well worth watching anyway for their joyously wonky designs.

Importantly, the game serves as far more than a series of puzzles, as the pleasures of creating Rube Goldberg-esque feats of brilliance becomes easily within your grasp. The challenge of animating, tweaking and then re-animating your contraptions is a true delight. For once the game really does live up to its title: Fantastic Contraption

Iain Simons writes, talks and tweets about videogames and technology. His new book, Play Britannia, is to be published in 2009. He is the director of the GameCity festival at Nottingham Trent University.
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Poem: "When the Americans came"

“Do you have vampires around here?”

When the Americans came,

they didn’t take to our gardens:

the apple orchard smelling of wild garlic,

foxgloves growing among the runner beans.


“Do you have vampires around here?”

a visitor from Carolina asked me.

It was a shambles, Wilfred knew that,

nodding wisely as though apologising


for the ill manners of King George,

the clematis purple in the thatched roofing.

But come the softe sonne,

there are oxlips in Fry’s woods,


forget-me-nots in the shallow stream,

lettuce and spring onions for a salad.

It’s certain that fine women eat

A crazy salad with their meat*


I tried to tell them. But they weren’t women,

and didn’t care to listen to a boy.

They preferred the red rosehips

we used for making wine.


Danced outside the village church

round the maypole Jack Parnham made.

Now they’re gone,

the wild garlic has returned.


* W B Yeats, “A Prayer for My Daughter”


William Bedford is a novelist, children’s author and poet. His eighth collection of verse, The Bread Horse, is published by Red Squirrel Press.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood