Wipe them out... all of them.

The question is, though, has John Gore translated to Hook Champ well? Well, yes, he has. I’ve only done one his levels so far, but it’s standard Hook Champ stuff, except there are furries running around and you’ve got a gun with infinite ammo in it with which to dispatch them.

I’m still not sure what’s changed since the early days of Hook Champ, but it’s a much less fiddly and frustrating experience than it used to be. Thumbs up!

Water is very annoying - stay out of it where possible.

The controls have changed, apparently, but it’s been so long since I last played that I couldn’t tell you how. It all seems more fluid than I remembered, though. I got very frustrated with the level I’d got to when I last played, until I worked out the best way to get through breakable blocks and remembered I had shoes that would let me jump up a long way. Once I’d worked that out, the level turned out to be pretty easy. It’s just a shame it took me about ten tries to remember how everything worked.

I’m looking forward to really getting back into this now I’ve worked it all out again – but whether I will or not is another question. Still, that’s the great thing about the iPhone. I’ve got dozens of games sitting there, waiting to be played again at any time.

I hate that guy. You shoot him with your shotgun and it just stuns him for a little while. You can never kill him. He’s always there, either just behind you or chewing you up and spitting out your bones. (And hat.) No matter how far you run, he’s there. If you can’t see him, you might catch glimpse of his stinking gaseous breath coming from just off screen. He’s terrifying, unstoppable and impossible avoid, until you reach the end of the level and are pulled to happy, shiny freedom.

And you know, that’s a bit like Jesus. Or Richard Dawkins. One of those guys.

I bet that monster couldn’t kill Richard Dawkins. I reckon if anyone tried to kill Richard Dawkins he would just state that their weapons were illogical and unscientific. Any bullets, knives, bombs or rabid bats would simply melt away as they approached his big smug face.

The man married a Time Lord, for pity’s sake, he’s obviously not a normal human.

And what’s the betting he borrows Romana’s TARDIS to go back in time and check his theories? That’s probably why he’s so sure of himself. Well, that or the overwhelming scientific evidence for evolution. One of the two.

I wonder if he’s met any Daleks? I had a Dalek when I was three. It was the morning of my mum and dad’s wedding, so my grandpa – who was the very nicest man to have ever lived, by the way – took me out to the toy shop and bought me a Dalek while everyone was busy with preparations. I was happily playing with it while the adults did wedding stuff when it suddenly broke. Stopped moving around on its wheels, stopped making noises. I was devasted and ran into the tent where the speeches were being made, screaming and crying like only a small child can. There are pictures from the wedding of my dad giving his speech while my uncle holds me, my face a scrunched up mess of grief. I kept the Dalek for a long time in the bottom of my toy box, even though I wanted to cry every time I saw it.

Now, though, my house is full of Daleks. An analogue clock Dalek hanging on the wall. A digital clock Dalek I found in a charity shop. Lots of toy Daleks of various sizes scattered about the house. So I guess I got the last laugh. Again, like Jesus. Or Richard Dawkins.

Note to Radio 4: am available for Thought for the Day any time you want.

You know what, though? I lied to you up above when I said I was about to shoot the monster in the face. Taking the screen shot took too long, so before I could hit the shotgun button, I was dead. That’s not like Jesus or Richard Dawkins. That’s just life.

Think Indiana Jones meets Bionic Commando in a stylish pixel art setting. You can run left and right through the side-scrolling levels, but most of the time you’ll be using your whip/grappling hook to swing across the levels, collecting coins and trying to reach the exit before the nasty monster chomps you into little bits.

It’s a bit tricky at first – and I still can’t get on with the Pro control scheme – but the controls soon become familiar. That doesn’t make the game easy, though. You’re left with a tough challenge, estimating angles – the whip always shoots at forty-five degrees – and working out the best time to let go of one swing and start on another.

It’s hard, satisfying, has global and local leaderboards for every level and a shop to buy upgrades and new abilities with the coins you collect.

It’s a great arcade challenge, with each death spurring you on and each impossible section forcing you to come back and work out new techniques. Less immediately thrilling and more frustrating than Canabalt, but more structured, with a proper difficulty curve and nearly as satisfying.