Segare Ijiri
[セガレいじり]
1999年6月3日
“The worst gift of all time”
Segare ijiri, released on June 3, 1999, for Playstation, under the leitmotif “The worst gift of all time,” is widely regarded as the king of Bakage, “stupid games” — a label for titles that embrace a sense of pure stupidity.
“Segare Ijiri” can be translated as “I play with my son.”
With its wildly unique personality, Segare ijiri revels in pure absurdity and offbeat eccentricity. The game features extremely surreal content and a somewhat risqué sense of humor. The game is so bizarre that its very existence has become legendary. It is a nonstop stream of crude and absurd gags.
There is something oddly refreshing about such complete idiocy. With its thoroughly eccentric concept, Segare ijiri can be seen as a decisive experiment in pure absurdity.
The original story, computer-generated imagery, music, direction, humor, and sarcastic narration are all created by Segare ijiri’s mastermind, Kitsune Akimoto. The ending credits feature his song “Penguin,” performed by an elementary school choir, and the game also includes several of his earlier musical works.
“Once upon a time, in the distant future, there lived a son.”
The narrator sounds like a four- or five-year-old girl, speaking in an awkward, childlike way. She goes on:
“The son is a chrysalis, so he’s an arrow.”
His face is literally shaped like an arrow. A chrysalis is the stage when a larva transforms into its adult form.
“One day, I found a very pretty girl and told my mom about her.”
The mother is depicted as a giraffe —or more precisely, just a giraffe’s long neck.
“I want to fall deeply in love with her,” the son says.
His mother answers, “When you grow up.”
The player takes control of the child and must create a series of stories by combining words through interactive objects found in the environment. Every new story unlocks another object, and it’s the mother’s neck — rather than the child — that grows longer. The choice of words decides whether the game presents a 3D animated sequence or an illustrated story.
Segare still knows nothing of the world. Everything he sees is a discovery! The mother, meanwhile, is a giraffe — quite literally a “mother giraffe.” With her long neck, she can watch her children grow.
His brothers and sisters have cow heads and penguin faces. All the boys are naked — at least in appearance, since they wear flesh-colored tights — and have mohawk hairstyles.
The child leaves his mother’s house and sets out to explore a unique 3D world called “Seken.”
He then begins a journey in order to grow up.
The boy gradually grows by getting involved in different activities, expands his vision of the world, and ultimately falls in love with the girl. Segare’s perspective remains that of a pure-hearted child. While the story may seem beautiful at first glance, it is firmly rooted in the realm of the “stupid game genre. Everything, from beginning to end, embraces sheer stupidity.
It is a game in which the player “helps the son grow” by “messing with him”.
The game’s world is a miniature garden divided into several areas by sliding doors. At first, the space is almost empty and Segare is limited to moving in the direction indicated by the arrow only. He focuses solely on the rectangular zone around him, but as he explores, new objects and environments appear.
If the Seken is divided into boxes, it’s not just a matter of design: it represents “Segare’s personal shell — the limits of his own perspective.” Without experience or growth, that shell remains unbreakable.
His world gradually expands, from his house all the way to outer space. This symbolizes the son’s growth and the expansion of his perspective and range of action.
Eventually, the player moves past space itself and reaches the area outside of the boxes, a place called “Onmo.” This is the world’s outer periphery. The player can only access it from space; so he needs a float to get through. It signifies the ability to perceive oneself objectively — like an external envelope. The child moves around there by hopping.
The Seken contains various objects called okimono. Interacting with an okimono switches the game into a word-composition mode. The player can create nine different words by combining them. Once a word is formed, a short animation plays based on it.
The game’s progression system revolves around interaction with these objects. Their number grows as new combinations are created: depending on the composition created, a new “okimono” may appear. However, some appear differently, while others are hidden and their appearance is not announced. Regardless of the type of okimono, when the player activates one for the first time, he receives a heart and the mother’s neck grows longer. When her neck grows tall enough, dusk falls, bringing new vehicles and items that push the story ahead. As the player progresses, the “Seken” gradually expands.
The wordplay combinations are completely nonsensical.
When the player chooses an Okimono, he will be taken to the composition screen. The player selects two or three words linked to the Okimono from a set of up to three choices to create a composition. The composition is then turned into a video — either a humorous short film or a slideshow of still images. The video will always match the content, no matter how absurd it may be. For example, if the player selects “super,” “exciting,” and “san,” a computer-generated machine shaped with a number 3 on is body enters in dancing, then falls in love with Segare. That’s it. It doesn’t make any sense.
The composition unfolds within the mind of a two- or three-year-old, who recognizes some words but cannot yet grasp them as full phrases. Names such as “Seken” and “Okimono” feel like a child repeating the words of adults without truly grasping their meaning. The player becomes one with the child, choosing words driven by curiosity — the player’s curiosity mirroring that of the child.
Each Okimono can only produce a limited set of compositions. After a composition has been watched once, it can be watched again without being deducted from the total composition limit. Once an Okimono has generated all its compositions, it gains a flower emblem and can no longer be modified until the end of the game.
Upon completing the game, the player can create an unlimited number of compositions.
Among the compositions, some are “winning combinations,” and new objects appear in the Seken. This means that the son has begun to understand sentences a little, and that things that were invisible until then become visible.
There are different types of Okimono. Some Okimono don’t create compositions at all; instead, they trigger different actions when activated.
These irregular objects, called “fun objects,” can trigger various effects when activated: flip the screen, cause an earthquake, launch unexpectedly dark background music, apply a ridiculous mosaic over Segare, or Segare’s head may grow larger, and characters may begin to speak nonsensically.
In addition, non-interactive elements called “ambient objects” begin to appear — grass, excrement, decorations… gradually filling the empty space.
The son’s Seken thus becomes more lively and joyful
Finally, some okimono even trigger mini-games, including an alien invasion parody, a game where two penguins throw poop at one another; a game where the player must climb up an impossibly long giraffe neck; a karaoke with strange illustrations, and a chaotic racer. On his first try, the player is limited to the first level or a beginner challenge. After completing it, more difficult stages unlock.
The player can consult the list of Okimono currently available by pressing triangle. As the story progresses, he will obtain a “teleportation card” that instantly transports him to the location of any activated Okimono.
“Segare ijiri” is a wonderful game, outwardly absurd, yet filled with unexpected depth, and so well designed that the player hardly even notices.
It’s a game that lets the player soak in the mood of bizarre words and surreal imagery.
“Segare ijiri” takes the player into a world unlike anything else. As he keeps making absurd compositions, his brain gradually becomes dull. The player will surely be overcome by a feeling of emptiness. He may either laugh at the difference between his imagination and the actual composition — or simply realize that it’s exactly the same!
“Segare ijiri” is a game that reveals itself differently when played as an adult, after one has gained more experience and understanding.
It is remembered as a legendary eccentric game of the PlayStation era. Thanks to its outrageously bizarre style and simple controls, the game quickly gained widespread popularity. Its originality was widely praised, turning it into a true phenomenon.
The game’s exceptional quality and coherence cannot be denied, and its high technical execution is fully dedicated to its “quirky” nature. A variety of gags unfolds at a steady pace until the end, making the game engaging and addictive. While a few jokes are straightforward and a bit crude, they feel more like childish humor and are never meant to offend anyone. Most of the jokes are designed merely to confuse or amuse the player, even if he attempts to understand them.
The game’s offbeat universe and elements feel remarkably fresh, creating a sense that they are at once absurd and refined.
Instead of pursuing universal love, “Segare ijiri” chose to deliver a generous dose of fantasy to those who seek it — those who enjoy trivial things, silly pleasures, and the simple joy of perceiving words as sounds— which explains precisely why it became an unforgettable “stupid game.”
“Segare ijiri” is a masterpiece born at the turn of the century — a rare work, one that invites profound reflection.