Imagine the most intricate, accurate to life space vehicle simulator you can. Dozens of toggle switches, displays ranging from the strange and esoteric to the vague and incomprehensible, buttons flashing angrily at you and daring you to press them. The screen shakes and aside from the roar of liftoff, the only thing you can hear is your own labored breathing and the pulse in your ears. Do you have this picture in your head? Good.
Because KSP is nothing like that. Take parts, attach parts, launch parts, land parts, detonate parts, survive falling parts. KSP is learning through failure. Unless you go on Youtube and look up the Scott Manley videos, you are going to fail. You gonna fail bad. But it's okay. Failure is only data by another name. Bit by bit, you'll learn how to do things right. You'll realize that putting the engines under the tanks is probably a good idea. Putting the crew capsule in a place not likely to be burned or detonated is also probably a good idea. Parachutes seem like a logical choice, but what the heck, right? Maybe you just need a five hundred meter long crumple zone. Nobody's gonna stop you. That's the great thing, isn't it? You can put anything at all you want on the launchpad, and nobody knows well enough to try to stop you. The Kerbish OSHA rep is permanently locked into the bathroom. He's not gettin' out of there. We welded the window shut, locked the door, and put model airplane glue in the keyhole. Cell phone reception in there is sketchy. You're safe. So go nuts.
There's places you can go. Land at the poles, the sea, the mountains, or all three at once with a creatively timed spray of shrapnel. There's other worlds. A big burning thing with no surface that'll tan you for free if you check it out. It'll tan you to the bone. So that's a bonus. There's other worlds. Red world. Purple world. Green world with little worlds around it. Hidden stuff everywhere. All of these places are fit to seed with refuse. Landers, rovers, living quarters, stations, battleships, pasteboard furniture, lawnmowers, spaceplanes, robots, scooters, springboards, et cetera. KSP is a litterer's dream. There's so many places you can leave stuff you have no hope of bringing home. And it's worth doing it just to see that stuff sitting there.
But I've got to warn you. You've reached TL;DR level four, so here's a bonus. This game has very unexpected side effects. You will learn things. Hoffman transfer. Periapsis. Apoapsis. How orbit actually works. Why orbit is halfway to anywhere. Launch windows. Free transfer windows. Free returns. If you make the horrifying inadvertent mistake of buying this game for yourself or your child, somebody's gonna learn things. It's unavoidable. Real things, even. Newton's spectre haunts this game. You will find no escape, and he fears no earthly garlic.
Lemmie wrap this up for the TL;DR folks who check the bottom summary. Just get KSP already. You aren't really learning anything from my review you probably didn't know already. Let's be honest with each other, here. Ok? You don't want to learn whether or not this game is worth buying. You're looking for someone to make the excuse for you. You're already gonna get it, you just want someone to possibly take the fall for you if you catch heat for doing it. And to you, good sirs and madams, I say; Yes. Yes, I'll take the blame. "That fat idiot Whackjob from KSP told me to get the game, or he said he'd cut me." They'll believe you. You're good. So do it. Hit that buy button.
Thank me later.~Whackjob of KSP