One blogger, in a desperate attempt to keep and record all of their writings, is exporting all of their posts. This wouldn't be a problem for most people, except they wrote nearly 10 posts a day for a good 10 years and they have lost their password.
Un-Navigatable is a game about going back and looking at old blog entries and being deeply, deeply embarrassed at your past self either through your past actions or how you used to write your posts.
This game is also a celebration of the freedom experienced in youth when you were unashamed to write and share your deepest feelings on the internet. Your interests at the time might be embarrassing now, but they do not make you a bad person then or now. This is a game about laughing at the folly of youth, not hating yourself for past interests or interactions.
This game also contains the specific following in prompts:
Feel free to change or discard any card or prompt for any reason.
Use the navigation tools to the right, to find the correct pages. You are currently on the "Intro" page. The "Start" page will take you back to the preamble text.
Begin with the"Rules," then read the "EndGame" to learn how to play. Then use the Hearts, Diamonds, Clubs, and Spades pages to find the correct prompts.
The Playthrough link will open a new tab to a different website that will have an example of a finished game you can use as a guide.
If this website is too much of a hassle or you would like a downloadable version, there is a PDF, ePub, and plain TXT files available HERE. The PDF version will have different layout, graphics, and themes for each of the pages that are completely diffent than this website.
This game was made for the Death and the Internet Jam, hosted by CabbageHead.
Death and the Internet Game Jam is for creating physical games or video games featuring, about or based around dead things on the Internet. This jam came about as an idea to commemorate the end of Internet Explorer which was officially retired on June 15, 2022. As the Internet progresses, the memories we keep on it can disappear at any moment unless we make an effort to preserve them.