Towlr is a puzzle. Towlr is an art movement. Towlr is an aesthetic with its own manifesto. Sort of. Towlr is frustrating. In Towlr, the cake is not a lie.
Towlr has a + sign in the screen. It has no meaning.
Towlr provides no rules, no tutorial, not even a minimalist statement of goals. You must deduce the goal.
Towlr tells you when you have failed, in a most annoying fashion.
Towlr displays only simple, geometric shapes such as you might see in an Atari 2600 game.
Towlr rewards success with cake.
In Towlr, the appropriate response when you succeed is "Doh!".
Towlr looks simple; but actually, there is a highly refined sensibility at work here, one that could only and can only derive from games. It's a sort of minimalism that rejects almost everything we know, or believe we know, about games. There is no hand-holding, no increment in skill, only a puzzle, with no hints and no support. The purpose of Towlr is to figure out how to play, and once you have, you are done.
And just as stark as its gameplay are its visuals and soundscape.
The first Towlr was created by PoV for a Ludum Dare competition, but a bunch have been created since. They are all available at the Towlr site. Some are web-playable, others are downloads, and the downloads vary in what platforms they support. But you should check them out, if only to experience a remarkably different aesthetic of the game.