The Idea
Hair Force One is a satirical arcade artwork disguised as an absurd webgame.
It was born from a very simple, very human impulse: You read the news. You hear the news. You watch the news. Every day. And again and again, this one grotesque figure appears — doing something obvious, saying something absurd, making some foolish move — and then selling it as if it were the greatest deal since the invention of the handshake.
And the astonishing thing is: he can sell it.
I did not want to sell nonsense. That is why this game is free.
Hair Force One is my small digital answer to a political reality that has long since begun to feel like a badly written game: exaggerated, loud, full of special effects, but astonishingly poor in wisdom. It is real-life satire. Not because I am exaggerating reality — but because reality itself has already started exaggerating satire.
The birds in this game are not animals. They are not people. They are not an invitation to aggression. They are a form. A nuisance. A symbol. A fluttering caricature of the daily noise that nests in your head, your heart and your nerves when you have read too many headlines.
Sometimes, as a human being, you ask yourself: What can I do?
Sometimes, as an artist, you ask yourself: What am I allowed to do?
Stand up? Protest? Write? Film? Paint? Stay silent? Scream? Or build a small absurd game in which, after twelve rounds, you realize: the world is still crazy — but you yourself have released a little pressure.
The ancient Greeks called this catharsis.
So Hair Force One is not an outburst of rage. It is a cleansing system. A small pixel-made release valve for politically overheated souls. You listen to the news, play one to twelve rounds, and suddenly not everything is fine — but at least it is funny again.
The locations in the game are not chosen at random. They are political symbolic spaces. Places, images and keywords connected to the staging of power and the global politics of that very figure. White House. Greenland. Iran. Cuba. Venezuela. Epstein Island. They are not levels in the classic sense. They are media stage sets. Backdrops of a theatre that is sold to us every day as reality.
Hair Force One takes these backdrops and turns them back into what they have long since become: a grotesque spectacle.
I usually make films for the cinema. That is how I make my living. I write, paint, develop projects and tell stories. But this game had to be made. Not because the world needs another game. But because this world is sometimes only bearable when turned into one.
Or through forgiveness. But that is written on another page.
If this thought interests you, if you would like to talk about it, or if you want to know why a game about satirical birds and political catharsis might, in the end, still have something to do with inner peace: feel free to contact me. You will find the email address below.
And yes: I did not write a single line of code myself.
At this point, heartfelt thanks to my faithful assistant ChatGPT, who patiently built this game with me. I had the idea, the images, the madness, the direction, the corrections, the impatience and the enthusiasm. ChatGPT had the nerves. Together we built something that probably nobody needed — until it suddenly existed.
Hair Force One is also a small revival. Those old enough will recognize the spirit of classic shooting galleries and Moorhuhn-style games. But this game is not just nostalgia. It is an answer. A satirical miniature about the powerlessness of the individual in a world where politics increasingly behaves like reality TV, reality TV behaves like politics, and both look suspiciously like a business model.
There is, by the way, a version of this game principle that Apple approved: Flying Fleece.
This is the free web version — the one that is allowed to do what art sometimes has to do: be a little cheekier.
Hair Force One is ad-free. No banners. No paywall. No tracking circus. No blinking casino popups. No “Buy 500 golden feathers now.” I wanted a game that you can simply open. On your phone. On your desktop. Without registration. Without an app store. Without theatre.
That is precisely why there is a “Support the Artist” button. Not as an obligation. Not as moral blackmail. But as an invitation: If you enjoy this small piece of digital resistance, humor and political psycho-hygiene, help keep it free.
Because free is not costless. Free is a decision.
What kind of harassment I may have to expect because of this game? I have no idea. Maybe none. Maybe trouble. Maybe head-shaking. Maybe laughter. Maybe people who claim satire is allowed to do everything — except when it hits. I simply hope that Hair Force One makes it through two years. Two years online. Two years free. Two years playable. Two years as a small flying comment on a time that should perhaps stop taking itself quite so seriously.
Who is this game for?
For everyone.
Not for a party. Not for a camp. Not for the outraged against the other outraged. Hair Force One does not want to divide. It wants to connect — through perhaps the oldest political remedy known to humanity: laughing together at power.
Because power fears many things.
But most of all, it fears looking ridiculous.
So: Play. Share it. Send it on. Take screenshots. Challenge your friends. Carry the message out into the world.
Not as hatred.
Not as war.
Not as a sermon.
But as art.
As a game.
As a small liberating click.
Let’s play.