When I was about 11 years old, my dad bought one of those books with listings of BASIC programs. In the absence of reliable, cross-platform recording media, a book was the safest, nay, the ONLY way to store a program; if you were willing to spend a day re-typing a program, and if if you typed it correctly, you could enjoy about 15 minutes playing it! Of course, it was a recipe bound for disaster, as none of the games met the expectations created by the airbrushed art that often accompanied the source listings.
So my dad brought home one of those books and lo and behold, it announced right there in the cover, it had the source code for THE GAME OF LIFE! Having enjoyed many a hour playing the tabletop version of Game of Life with my sisters and cousin, but not owning the game box myself as it was considerably expensive for a 11 year old out-of-work boy to purchase, I was sure excited with the promise of playing the game right there, in my Brazilian ZX-81 clone, the almight TK-85 with 48kb of memory.
I painstakingly typed the code in one afternoon, ran the game, and it was with utter disappointment and a sadness only 11 year old boys can muster that I watched squares popping in and out of the screen. In and out, on and off, in seemingly random fashion. Is *that* the game of life I was promised? Black-and-white blocks are showing up and disappearing. It is not fun. I am not even interacting with it - how is this a game? I was crushed.
Then it dawned on me.
Conway's genius was not of creating an expensive tabletop game with beautiful plastic cars for the house dog's to eat or pins representing your beautiful wife that could be easily lost under the run. It was a genius of showing you that life goes on, whether you want it or not, and there's nothing you can do about it. That it is not necessarily fun, unless you learn to recognize the patterns that are taking shape in front of you. This *was* the game of life, in many more ways than I could count.
In that moment, I unsubscribed to the plastic tabletop game doctrine. Now I write code.
Great game, brilliant idea. Could use some scoring system and some powerups, maybe. Regardless, this is what Ludum Dare games should strive to be: an amazing idea with quick but flawless execution. Bravo!