If You Could Build A Clock In World Of Goo…

There are two kinds of people in the world: the ones who look at a pile of wiggly, sentient goo balls and think,
“Bridge!”and the ones who think, “Timepiece.” If you’re reading this, congratulations: you’re the second kind.
You are also (politely) unwell, in the best possible way.

World of Goo is famous for letting you build ridiculous, precarious structures that somehow hold together long
enough to get goo balls into a pipe. The fun isn’t just in “solving” levelsit’s in flirting with physics, bargaining
with gravity, and occasionally watching your beautiful tower fold like a lawn chair. So let’s take that spirit and
aim it at something delightfully impractical: building a working clock inside the World of Goo universe.

Why a Clock Belongs in World of Goo (Even If It Shouldn’t)

A clock is basically a controlled argument with nature. Gravity wants a weight to drop. Friction wants things to stop.
Motion wants to continue until it absolutely doesn’t. A good clock turns all that chaos into predictable ticks.

That’s also the core vibe of World of Goo: you’re given a messy environmentwind, slopes, hazards, moving parts,
weird goo speciesand you’re asked to create stability out of wobble. The game’s industrial chapter (“Cog in the Machine”)
practically dares you to think in gears and timing. It’s like the level designers are leaning over your shoulder saying,
“Go ahead. Build something precise. We dare you.”

Clock Basics, Translated Into Goo-Brain

Before we glue googly-eyed goo balls into a horological masterpiece, we need the three big clock ingredients:

1) A Power Source (The “Why is it moving?” part)

Traditional clocks use a wound spring or a hanging weight. In World of Goo logic, we could simulate power with:

• A falling counterweight: a heavy mass that slowly descends and pulls a “chain” of goo.
• Wind or moving machinery: the game loves fans, wheels, and industrial motion.
• Buoyancy/balloons: lift is basically anti-gravity power… the fancy kind.

2) A Regulator (The “Don’t sprint, we’re timing this” part)

A clock can’t just free-fall and call it a day. It needs a regulator: a pendulum or balance wheel that forces regular
beats. In goo-land, your regulator could be:

• A pendulum arm made from a stiff goo truss with a heavy bob (a cluster of goo balls) swinging below.
• A flex-and-snap oscillator: goo loves elasticity, so you can build a springy beam that oscillates.
• A timing gate: a moving obstacle that opens and closes on a cycle, releasing goo “one at a time.”

3) A Counter/Display (The “So what time is it?” part)

You need a way to count the regular beats and show them. Classic clocks use gears driving hands. In World of Goo,
your display can be:

• Rotating hands attached to a hub (a fixed anchor point) with a long goo arm as the hand.
• A “goo bead” counter where each tick drops one goo ball into a visible chamber.
• A sign-based clock (very on-brand): a sign painter updates time as your mechanism advances.

The Hard Part: Goo Physics Is Not Clock Physics

Real clocks thrive on rigid parts and predictable friction. Goo thrives on… not being rigid. Which means your
main enemies are:

• Elastic creep: your “gear teeth” become “gear vibes” after enough wobble.
• Structural drift: gravity slowly reshapes your “perfect circle” into “sad oval.”
• Impulse chaos: one bump and the whole machine gains a new religion.

The trick is embracing good-enough precision. You’re not building an atomic clock. You’re building a goo clock:
something that produces repeatable-ish ticks long enough to feel magical.

Blueprint: A Practical Goo Clock You Could Actually Build

Let’s design a clock that fits the game’s strengths: tension structures, controlled collapse, and physics toys.
The goal isn’t “accurate time.” The goal is “convincing clock behavior that looks intentional.”

Step 1: Build the Frame (A Clock Needs a Body)

Start with a tall, triangular trussclassic World of Goo engineering. Triangles distribute force and resist wobble.
You want a rigid “clock tower” with:

• A wide base (so your masterpiece doesn’t faceplant).
• A central shaft (the “gear train corridor”).
• An upper platform (where the display lives).

Pro tip: build symmetrical whenever possible. Asymmetry is how goo structures start telling scary stories.

Step 2: Add a Counterweight Drive

Make a hanging weight by clustering extra goo balls into a dense mass. Attach it to a “chain” made of linked goo nodes
routed over a guide (a small “pulley” point). As the weight descends, it pulls the chainthis is your slow, steady power.

To slow the descent, don’t rely on friction alone. Use geometry:
create a zigzag path so the chain has to bend around multiple guide points, bleeding energy in tiny, consistent losses.
You’ve just invented the goo version of “mechanical resistance,” also known as “I made it harder on purpose.”

Step 3: Create the Escapement (The Tick Maker)

In a traditional clock, the escapement “releases” the gear train in measured steps. In World of Goo, you can fake
this with a swinging latch:

• Build a short pendulum arm anchored at the top of your tower.
• Attach a bob (a small cluster of goo) so it swings predictably.
• Place a “stop” nub (a single goo ball) that the pendulum bumps every swing.

Now route the counterweight chain so it presses gently against that stop. Each swing nudges the stop out of the way
just enough to let the chain slip a tiny amounttickthen it catches againtock.
Is it perfect? No. Is it ridiculously satisfying when it works? Absolutely.

Step 4: Turn Motion Into a Display

Your chain’s movement needs to rotate something. Since goo doesn’t do crisp gear teeth well, use a “capstan”:
wrap the chain around a circular hub (a ring of goo balls anchored around a central point). As the chain slips, it
rotates the hub, and you attach a long goo arm as the “hand.”

For a two-hand effect (minute + hour), you can do a very game-friendly cheat:

• Minute hand: direct drive from the capstan.
• Hour hand: a second, smaller hand that advances one “notch” after every N ticks using a drop-counter.

The drop-counter version is charming: every tick releases a goo ball into a funnel; when enough goo accumulates in a cup,
it tips a lever that moves the hour hand one step. It’s like a Rube Goldberg clock… which is basically the national sport
of World of Goo.

Designing the Perfect “Clock Level” (If You Were Making a Mod or a Sequel Puzzle)

If this were a real level concept, the win condition shouldn’t be “tell time.” It should be something the game already
rewards: moving goo to a pipe efficiently, under constraints. The clock becomes the constraint and the spectacle.

Level Hook: “Second Hand Smoke” but Make It a Clock

The industrial chapter already jokes about timing and machinery. Imagine a level where a factory pipe won’t open unless
a “second hand” completes one full rotation. You must build a clock mechanism sturdy enough to run for one minute, long
enough to unlock the exit.

Constraints That Make It Fun (and Not Just Mean)

• Limited goo supply: so you can’t brute-force a steel fortress made of sadness.
• Wind gusts: forcing you to brace the pendulum and stabilize the tower.
• Moving hazards: a rotating gear that swats sloppy designs like a cat knocking a glass off a table.
• Optional obsession goal: run the clock for 90 seconds without structural failure.

Visual Payoff

A clock is inherently cinematic: swinging pendulum, rotating hand, small clicks of progress. Even if the timing is a little
off, the feeling of a machine coming to life is exactly what makes World of Goo so memorableart, physics,
and comedy all holding hands while standing on a wobbly bridge.

Strategy Guide: How to Keep Your Goo Clock From Becoming Abstract Art

Use Triangles Like You’re Paid by the Triangle

Clock frames hate wobble. Goo loves wobble. Triangles are your peace treaty. If a section bends, triangulate it. If it
still bends, triangulate your triangulation (this is not a real engineering term, but it should be).

Separate “Structure” From “Mechanism”

Don’t let your pendulum hang from a flexy part of the same tower that’s carrying the counterweight load. Build a dedicated,
reinforced “clock spine” for the mechanism. Think: skyscraper core. Your clock deserves a backbone.

Make the Tick Big Enough to Survive Noise

Tiny micro-motions get swallowed by goo elasticity. Your escapement should produce a clearly observable stepenough
movement that a small wobble doesn’t cancel it out.

Accept Cheating (The Fun Kind)

In games, “clockwork” often means “repeatable pattern,” not Swiss-watch accuracy. If your mechanism advances in chunky
steps but looks intentional, it’s doing its job. The player’s brain fills in the rest and goes, “Wow. I built time.”

What This Thought Experiment Teaches You About Game Design

The clock idea highlights why World of Goo still feels fresh: it gives you simple tools and lets you discover
surprising complexity. A clock is a “system of systems”power, regulation, displayand the game is basically a playground
for system thinking. You’re not just placing pieces; you’re shaping behavior.

That’s also why the game’s best moments feel like little science fairs. You build, test, fail, adjust, and suddenly
the structure worksnot because you memorized a solution, but because you learned how the world behaves.

Bonus: of Goo-Clock “Experience” (AKA Field Notes From a Sticky Timeline)

The first time you try to build a clock in World of Goo, you will be wildly confident for approximately eight seconds.
You’ll lay down a proud triangular base, attach a pendulum, and watch it swing like it has somewhere important to be.
You’ll think, “This is it. I’ve done it. I am the mayor of physics.”

Then the counterweight drops faster than your confidence, yanking the “chain” so hard that your capstan becomes a chaotic
blur. Your minute hand whips around like it’s late for a meeting, the pendulum clips the frame, and the whole tower leans
in a way that makes you whisper, “No, no, no…” like you’re trying to calm a shopping cart with one bad wheel.

Attempt two feels more thoughtful. You reinforce the spine, widen the base, and add little guide points to slow the chain.
This time you get a satisfying tick… tock… for a few glorious moments. The hand advances. The mechanism catches.
Your brain releases a tiny fireworks show of dopamine because you didn’t just build a bridgeyou built a behavior.
That’s the secret joy: a goo clock isn’t a thing; it’s an ongoing event.

Eventually you start treating the clock like a living creature with moods. On “humid physics days,” the pendulum swing is
shorter, so you adjust the bob lower. On “windy factory days,” you build a brace that looks ridiculous but works. You learn
to stop chasing perfection and start chasing reliability. You accept that your goo clock will never keep perfect time,
but it can keep believable timetime that feels earned.

The funniest part is the accidental storytelling. Your clock becomes a little industrial monument: a wobbly tower with a
swinging heart, counting seconds in a world that loves collapse. You’ll catch yourself narrating it: “Okay buddy, just one
more rotation and the pipe opens. Don’t get dramatic.” And when it finally runs long enoughwhen the hand completes the loop
and the exit unlocksit feels less like you solved a puzzle and more like you trained a tiny mechanical pet.

And if it all falls apart at second fifty-nine? That’s also on-brand. In World of Goo, even failure has character.
Besides, you didn’t waste timeyou built it. Out of goo. Which is, frankly, the most respectful way to spend it.