Welcome to planet Clapton, the most middle of the road planet in the known universe. This will be the home of my adventures in Spore, where I will be taking over this world, and then the universe, using nothing but the power of Rock and Roll. Part 1, the cell and the creature stage are beneath the cut.
There’s not much rock and roll about my creature in the cell stage, except the fact that it’s literally just been born out of a rock. It was decided quickly that that my creature would have to be a vegetarian. Killing things just isn’t cool, so my creature’s diet will be strictly green. My prey would be the weird green vegetable blobs floating about the primordial soup.
It’s very hard to express oneself when your avatar is a shapeless blob whose only purpose is to uselessly hunt smaller green blobs, but there was one thing I could add, as a statement of my creature’s commitment to overly long guitar solos and unwashed hair – massive spikes, lots of big spikes, the message would be clear. Two messages in fact “Fear me for I am the epitome of Rock!”, and “Fuck off and stop eating me, I’m made mostly of spikes!”
So I paddled about in a determined sort of way, growing and evolving, and prodding herbivorous competitors and stealing their food. Things were progressing nicely until my creature grew a brain in its ass.
This was to be an unfortunate anatomical accident, or ‘miracle of nature’, if you will. One that would plague my creature for the rest of its existence. But it doesn’t matter where your ass-brain is, it’s how you use it that matters. Full of big ideas my creature stepped onto land.
The first test for my ugly, ugly creature was to try and feed itself, which invovled scrumping some apples from the nearest tree. I scavenged a mouth from a nearby carcass and set off to impress my neighbours. All I could do was sing, but my creatures had soul, the rubbish blue walking fish things I was trying to impress lapped it up, and soon they worshipped us as gods. It was time to go home and make free love, which in Spore means less pixellated humping behind a bush near a discarded bottle of White Lightning, and more a bow and then a bit of a wiggle to some music. Alas.
It was time for my creature to evolve and embrace rock and roll completely.
My creature would replicate the magnificent Gibson Flying V, officially the awesomest and most rock and roll guitar ever invented. It would take over the world using peace, love and loud noises. I named my species the Hendrix, and I saw that it was good.
I carefully added a better mouth , glitching it into the body of my creature so that I could maintain the Hendrix’s sleek and sexy shape. Then I came out of the editor, and the baby was hatched. In Spore your baby creature’s go from being a baby to being a fully evolved adult in a flash of green light. This is a very bad thing for the Hendrixi. Without adolescence, there would be nobody to buy loud rock records, and nobody to rage against the status quo. To counter this the Hendrixi exist in a state of being permanently 17. So all they do is bitch, fuck and play loud music. A hedonism of Hendrixi can be seen frolicking in a meadow in the shot below, and by frolicking I mean ‘rocking out’, (natch).
It was time for them to roll out. They went forth and convinced some bunny rabbits that we were their saviours. Then the creatures got bigger, and became harder and harder to please. They constantly insisted on flaunting their fancy hands at us, hands are a no-go area for the Hendrixi, they just don’t dig that sort of thing. My response was to attach a better moutpeice and sing at them every time. My high level soloing would outperform anything they tried to do, and anything that was especially stubborn would be won over by the siren special power, which causes the Hendrixi to lean back as glowing musical swirls explode accross the screen. Any creatures in the vicinity become instantly hypnotised. Prog rock wins again.
The Hendrixi were becoming progressively smarter, their brains were growing in size. They became more and more social, and they could soon form a group, or band, if you will. Unfortunately, as some sort of sick experiment, I charmed a wierd pink slug thing into joining my crew because I could, and then never found a way to get rid of him. Even when I evolved my creature again to give it tiny little feet and an ability to dance, it freakishly hatched in my nest with the other Hendrix. The hanger on remained for the rest of the creature phase, a genuine groupie, basking in the reflected glory of my creatures.
The Hendrix had moved nest, and were in an entirely new area. It was time to open up on the charm offensive and make the final push for – wait – WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?
For a moment all pretence of peace and love was forgotten as I searched my keyboard frantically for the ‘kill’ button. Something, anything, throw the groupie at it! A nuke! My kingdom for a nuke! I pressed F1 and nuked it with glowy green sireny music power. The interface told me the freakish pink things had been charmed, but all I could see was the same cold dead expression in their horrible, starey eyes.
Then they started doing this:
A part of my brain collapsed into itself and my band ran as fast as their stumpy legs could carry them, over the nearest hill and out of sight. Forever. I almost forgot these things existed until I was digging through my Fraps folder looking for illustrations of my adventure. My mind had actually repressed their existence from me. I was forced to to battle with these demons once more, for your sake, dear reader.
Do me a favour, if you ever come accross these things and you’re not endeavouring to be peaceful. Kill them. Kill them all.
With that horror a distant and painful memory, my species moved from strength to strength. We were unstoppable, our musical ability was singularly dominating pretty much everything we came accross, and anything that eyed us up as dinner wound up staring at their hands, doughy-eyed and complacent at the hands of my siren song.
Soon enough my ass-brain evolved again and it was finally time to go tribal. I would leave behind these dumb animals and become civilised, then my quest for world domination would truly begin. Until then I’ll leave you with a picture of a Hendrix showing off his big shiny new brain.
Next time, part 2, the Tribal stage and Civilisation!