The two fumblecore games we recently played, QWOP and Queers in Love at the End of the World have been in mind, for different reasons.
With QWOP, a game that I haven't thought of since middle school, probably, the idea that I can possibly beat my previous record keeps me playing the game. It's stupid, and incredibly futile, but also very, very fun. I can't even imagine what I look like desperately mashing the q, w, o, and p keys in an effort to surpass my 3.4 meter record (I know, I know. I can do better). After inevitably crumpling to the ground, the game displays your time with the caption, "everyone is a winner," although it certainly doesn't feel like it.
If everyone is a winner, possibly because everyone is also a loser, why can't we be satisfied? I mean, I took a break from writing this just to play QWOP again, to increase my record (4.3 meters now, take that). Maybe it's because if I moved my fingers in the correct sequence once to reach that record, I MUST be able to do it again, right? Your failure is almost motivating, and being able to see that stumbling avatar take actual human steps is at least a little bit satisfying.
On the other hand, Queers in Love at the End of the World had almost the opposite effect on me. I did not want to play it again, at all. I eventually did, several times, but it made me sad. While in QWOP, the more you play, it's possible you might improve your button-mashing skills, Queers in Love at the End of the World was frustrating because no matter how quickly you select options in the 10 second time allotment, everything is "wiped away." There's not the same possibility for progression.
It is possible to reach a point where no more prompts appear, and maybe you can feel somewhat satisfied as you watch the few seconds you have left countdown before everything is once again wiped away, but I didn't feel that satisfaction in a way that made me want to play again. Instead, knowing the every time I play the outcome would be the same is probably why I didn't want to play again.
Don't get me wrong, I really liked the game, even though it kind of broke my heart a little bit. I just hated that sense of never having enough time. And maybe that's what made QWOP so easy to play over and over, because the time spent in the game is determined by your own skill rather than parameters outside of your control.
Like Jacob, I also had the opposite reaction to these games. When playing, I tend to be a completionist, but in QWOP it didn't feel like there was anything else to do besides hobble a few more meters down the track. Reading a description and playing just a few times was plenty for me to form an opinion of the game, which is essentially a running simulation where you only grind. Queers didn't necessarily have interesting mechanics that made me want to keep playing, but its plot did. Can you stand starting a story you like and not getting to the ending? If not, click and read faster. You can play as many times as you want so eventually you…
I actually had the opposite reaction to these two games. With QWOP, I felt no desire to play it more than a few times and didn't really enjoy my time with it. It set up a simple goal, but made it so ridiculously hard that I felt there was little point. Sure, I could put in hours and hours and probably get quite good, but I wouldn't feel any satisfaction. I'd probably be relieved that I could stop playing and end my frustration. Queers doesn't set up a goal, however, so I felt that you couldn't really fail. Sure, you can reach a point where there are no more prompts, but this wasn't a goal the game gave you from…
I felt the same way regarding Queers, and the points you raise regarding its lack of satisfaction makes me think of what amounts to replay value or enjoyment in fumblecore. Do we need games to be "fun" to make them memorable experiences we want to play again? As I understood your post, it was that feeling of powerful dissatisfaction, of irresolution, that drew you to Queers, made it stick in your mind, and I think that speaks to how strong emotions can override a desire for "fun" when playing. I suppose the better question would be: do we need games to have replay value to be worth playing?