When the Nintendo DS first launched back in November of 2004 there was much to-do about the unique features of the system and how games would actually use them. You imagined all sorts of nifty ideas, didn't you, Mayor Reader! For the most part you just got all sorts of superficial gimmickry in the form of games like Pac-Pix, Pokemon Dash, and, arguably, Yoshi's Touch and Go, but nothing that really proved that the features of the system could aspire to much more.

Enter SimCity DS, stage right: a portable title that is the perfect example of how to utilize the system for a gameplay experience completely impossible in other realms. In the case of this particular outing, however sadly inextricably by design, a unique implementation doesn't necessarily mean a lastingly unique gameplay experience.

    

SimCity DS is SimCity on the DS, a revelation that will surprise nobody but perhaps seem like a good idea. And why wouldn't it, Mayor? Using the stylus you will construct your town on the isometric city-grid harbored by the touch screen. It's surprisingly accurate and will even let you take back those urban-planning indiscretions when you hit a bump on the city bus or find yourself overcome with the urge to sneeze in the middle of a multi-thousand dollar street construction project.

You'll likely marvel as your preciously zoned areas spring up with residents, increasing your population count and allowing you to access fun new buildings like a disaster research center (which reduces the likelihood of any crazy portents correctly foretelling fire and brimstone's rain on your quaint burgeoning metropolis) and a mayor's mansion (so beautifully placed on the waterfront right near your marina, such posh digs!). A somewhat peculiar fireworks minigame even accompanies these population milestones, where you will tap tap tap on the launched fireworks that course across the bottom screen (the residents will "reward" you with money for your wonderful display). As you build up and up you'll even have some residents of the city pop into your mayor's office to tell you they'd love a zoo or a stadium so they can escape the horrible grind of their pointless daily lives. You even get to sign your name on the bill saying you'll do it! And you will! And they'll love you for it.

And it's all so much fun at first! For several hours you will artfully flip the construction screens and the persistent city view (on the top screen) to manipulate your funding levels, monitor pollution and crime, and even observe the growth rate of your population. You could never do all these things at the same time before and keep a watchful eye on your autonomous haven!

    

But eventually you will tire of the same PTA members asking for a new school and the same blue-collar workers wanting a fifth place to watch football games. You'll sign the bills and never construct the buildings. Then you'll start telling grandmothers you don't care enough to put in whatever it is they want this time. They'll leave your lakeshore house to take the rapid transit railway you just installed for that idiot geek hacker that stopped in last week. You'll accelerate the speed gauge to its maximum speed just to see the population increase. You'll lower taxes to nothing! Come one come all to the glorious Readerville! And they'll come and come. But eventually, even if the numbers stagnate, you'll stop clicking and swapping and even stop building things because really, you've already done it. On the first SimCity, on SimCity 2000 and 3000 and SimCity 4, across PCs and Super Nintendos and everything else—though infinitely less elegantly.

And then it won't really end—like your city would have if it were struck with some sort of large town-ending bomb—it'll just kind of sputter out, your one-save-slot city stuck where it is. You can't possibly start a new one knowing you'll have to delete Readerville, can you? And on that DS card your neglected town will forever languish, beautiful while it lasted but like so many Animal Crossing paradises, wonders that will never be seen by anyone ever again. Was it worth it, Mayor Reader? Has your fully-featured touchscreen paradise finally made you happy?