Name Says it All, Really
"There is something very repetitive and redundant about it. It's not very challenging. So what you're focusing on is really what this act of clicking means."
Christiane Paul, adjunct curator of new media at the Whitney
"aims to challenge players to reconsider the meanings of the Internet’s everyday trappings"
The Wall Street Journal
Clickistan is donationware, of a sort; it urges you, from time to time, to donate to the annual fund for the Whitney Museum, which commissioned it.
It's an art game created by a UBERMORGEN.COM, a duo of Swiss-American-Austrian digital artists. You would think, given these facts, that it would suck, but actually, it's kind of engaging. Not coherent, mind you, but engaging.
In each level, you click on stuff while chiptunes play. A score at screen bottom is about the only thing that the levels have in common; it increases, somewhat mysteriously, when you click on the right things, whatever they may be. At some point, text appears telling you that the level is "extremely complete," and you should click to continue.
In short, it's chaotic, there's really no motivation to play other than to see what comes next and for the basically irrelevant non-thrill of maximizing a pointless score; but visually, it's cool, and the chiptunes are fun, and it's at least as much of an enjoyable timewaster as most of the stuff we point to.
"It is unexpectedly fun, in other words, to chase after runaway shopping carts with your mouse pointer, as idiotic as that may sound. Or to check a box on a grid, which causes the whole array of checkboxes to shake playfully at you, like a wagging finger or a belly dancer. Clickistan attacks the click with no rhyme or reason, imitating the formlessness of the web. One level is a survey that obnoxiously asks, "How are you going to profit from global warmings?"