Candied, crushed sago't gulaman
The act of hugging has always been an alien concept to me. The idea of a torso touching another torso! Where should I put my hands? Around the shoulder? Lower? Is hair-stroking out of the question? Can I hug with my fists balled up? How about smelling? Can I smell the hair or neck areas? But they smell so good! What should my feet do? There are so many variables!
I should be more mindful of my privilege. Check it, as it were. As a grown man with two functional arms, I could never empathize with the pain of, say, a single mother trapped in a mech suit, unable to feel the warm embrace of Molly, her only daughter. Hers is the pain of the gods.
Where is the Button for Love? puts you in the cockpit of an unwieldy robot exoskeleton and square in the shoes of a mother unable to comfort her child. Isn’t this just the most tragic thing?
The game is complicated and loopy and unpredictable, much like motherhood. Attempt to administer a hug by pressing an arbitrarily arranged suite of buttons in the right sequence. The hug must be tight and low and devoid of missile exhaust. Do not disappoint her by giving awkward hugs. You have 60 seconds before your daughter breaks down in a puddle of her own fears. Fail, and the button functions randomize.
So many variables.
Once you find the button for love–or the correct combination of buttons for love–you will be rewarded by a smiling Molly. And the best song in the world. Being permanently stuck in a hydraulic extension of your limbs doesn’t seem so bad anymore after that.
Play Where is the button for love? here or by clicking any of the pictures.