I find myself frustrated when writing about people being lost in other dimensions because it’s my unrealized childhood dream. Am I still bitter about my constant failed attempts to enter Narnia? Yes. Do I hold a grudge because I was never able to construct a working* spaceship like in the Explorers? Absolutely. Will these unresolved disappointments predispose me towards abject hatred for Jim Power – The Lost Dimension in 3D? Without a doubt. Stupid Jim Power: fuck that guy. Also fuck Mr. Tumnus, the ruddy little ruminant dickface.
Despite my predisposition towards burning malice directed at one Jim Power, I was surprised at how much I hated this game. I really, really hate this game. First off, why is Jim Power in this Lost Dimension? How did he get here? Is this one of those games so misdirected that they had to relegate some semblance of a story to the booklet that came with the game? WHY is Jim Power in this mad place? Why do I care? Give me a reason to risk sickness to help this dude get home to his dog or cat/wife or husband/satisfying desk job or ulcers and deep foreboding. I don’t need a reason to play this game outside of writing a review, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt.
This game makes me sick and angry.
Even if I was fucking phenomenal at video games (I’m not**), it wouldn’t matter: Jim Power – The Lost Dimension in 3D is goddamned impossible. This game was scientifically designed to promote the illusion of a game without ever giving the player a chance at success. Fast moving enemies that take multiple shots before they die and kill you instantly if they brush by are combined with hard to hit moving platforms, a bevy of spikes and a time limit that drains nearly as quickly as my patience for this game. The background scrolls past in a nauseating fashion under the pretense that it makes the game look 3D (it doesn’t). It’s like some kind of parallax effect designed by half-blind speed freaks whose office was stationed in the middle of a merry-go-round. Seriously, the backgrounds are so painfully fast and utterly nonsensical in their progression that it’s akin to looking at a strange art experiment designed to make us reconsider our relationship with not throwing up.
I can almost understand how this game made it to the testing stage, but how did it ever go beyond? Did a room full of snot-covered testers whose only sound was the contents of their stomachs being forcefully emptied as they choked out watery sobs not convince anyone that maybe, just maybe, this game wasn’t ready for release? How many men and women had to be rushed to a hospital—or thrown in a dumpster, depending on where and when this game was made—before it was shipped out the door? How many more must be made to suffer before someone does something? I pray that I am the last.
* For various news reports of my non-functional spaceship and the near-total destruction of a tire warehouse, google “Rocket-Powered Disaster in Industrial Park”; if you don’t find the pertinent articles, doubtless my detractors have removed them from the Internet to sully my reputation yet further. It was merely the whimsical science experiment of a misguided child, and definitely not a preemptive strike of any sort. And certainly not a matter of National Security, so just ignore that nonsense.
** Did I mention this yet?