Videogames were a presence throughout my childhood, thanks to my dad having a PC for work. When he didn’t need to use it, I was allowed to tinker and explore. The games built into the computer like Solitaire, SkiFree and Fuji Golf, as well as the CD-ROM games we got from stores like Office Max and Borders, quickly became second nature to me.

The game’s introduction generates a calming buildup to play. There’s a bit of magic that happens as the overture gets into full swing, and you see the familiar and charming logos of the game’s creators and publisher. The pixelated valley then sweeps across the screen. The game’s logo then slowly descends from the top of the screen, coming to a gentle halt that reveals the menu. You’re already in the embrace of Stardew Valley before you even begin to play. All of these sights and sounds do an incredible job of pulling you into the game’s “magic circle.”

“The people who made Secret Hitler advertise it as a playable psychological model of how totalitarianism takes root. Their sales pitch also reassures that the game ‘doesn’t model the specifics of German parliamentary politics.’ Which makes sense: just as all art must draw some line around reality, so did Secret Hitler’s designers pick and choose from the horrific totality of actual-Hitler’s work, isolating just the right parts to weave into their party game.” By Rob Dubbin.