If I had an arcade--The Game Wishlist...

Okay, here goes. Back in this blog post, I slobbered and drooled over Michael Jackson's video arcade. It set me to thinking about what would happen if I had unlimited funds and could build my own personal game room....

Here, then, is my list of must-have games--please consider it a work in progress. (Mouse-over pics for descriptions, click for links if available):

Video games:
In the original box--usually because of unique controllers, although occasionally because I just like it on its own:

Battlezone (Atari-1980)	Gauntlet (Atari-1985)
Football (Atari-1979)

...ah, just making this list is getting me all misty. More to come when I have more time.

(Also, if there are games you love that aren't on here, let me know in a comment below, and I might add them to the list. Arcades are much more fun with friends!)

Yes, please, Fairy Godmother...

If I had one, I would ask her for a private video arcade in my garage. (Well, to be honest, there are a lot of things I would ask for, but let's start with the video arcade.) I started to make a list of the games I am pretty sure I would Never Tire Of, but it was getting out of hand. Maybe one day it will appear on Living Loud as a work in progress.

In any event, I just saw Michael Jackson's arcade, and had to share the experience with you. No, I didn't get to physically visit, but through the Magic Of The Internet, you can now take a 360° virtual tour. The resolution is amazing--you can nearly feel the presence of Michael's ghost, dropping phantom quarters into the machines.

If you prefer a virtual magazine version of the games, here is the catalog from the auction house that sold the collection. Yes, I am tearing up thinking that it is no longer. No, not as much as for MJ. But close, perhaps.

Clip of the Week...

This kid's mom cancelled his World of Warcraft account. His brother, prophet that he was, videotaped the post-cancellation tantrum.



I have no words.

Yesterday's 'moment in history'...

So, I logged on to Google yesterday--they often have some sort of artistic treatment of their logo as a nod to something significant that day. Here is the splash page from Saturday, June 6th, 2009:



It was apparently the 25th anniversary of Tetris yesterday. Now, I am a big fan of that game (if you don't believe me, you must not have read the blog entry I wrote about my addiction to the little blocks). But June 6th also happened to be the 65th anniversary of D-Day, the allied invasion of Normandy to save the Europeans from the Nazis. (Still waiting on that 'thank you' note, France.)

Of the two, I would have thought that the latter would have gotten the nod. But I guess it says something about our society that a video game was considered more significant than the liberation of Europe. Or maybe that the number 25 is more important than 65, in terms of anniversaries ("Silver" versus "ten more years until diamond"). Or maybe a Tetris version of the Google logo is just more visually interesting than a Normandy version. Whatever the reasoning, I thought it a little weird. Ah, America.

Clip of the Week...

If you haven't read my last post, this week's clip won't make much sense. You have read it? Oh. Okay, then:

Twelve Steps...

Hi, my name is David, and I'm a Tetrisaholic. (pause. circle of sponsors responds, "Hi, David.") It has been moments since I used last. (Circle moans collectively, a mixture of sympathy and concern.)

I used to play Tetris back in the days when the game first came out. It was a time of darkness--standing alone in a seedy video arcade in Times Square, plugging quarters into a machine I didn't even know, a machine with cigarette burns near the buttons from countless other addicts who had come before me. I lived for the Russian dance entertainment at the intermissions, a time when one could stretch their carpal-tunnel-bound fingers to prepare for the next wave of colored blocks.

I used to be able to walk away at any time, but soon I found myself pouring all my spare time--and quarters--into the game. In nearly no time at all, I was popping greens, reds and purples like candy. I prayed to the machine, imploring it for the long, thin ice blues that meant multiple rows and bonus points. I begged it for the purples to fill the gaps. I cursed and bruised my own hands banging on the hard case of the machine when the orange came instead of the blue.



Finally, when the darkness became too much, I hit bottom and quit. I realized that I was powerless over Tetris, and that my life had become unmanageable. I made a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself, and turned my will and my life over to God, as I understood him, with the belief that he could restore me to sanity. I admitted my wrongs to another, made a list of all people I had harmed, and made direct amends to them wherever possible. With the help of God, as I understood him, I was clean for years.

Then someone--someone who I do not blame for my own addiction--sent me a link to the game via Facebook. There was a special holiday version of Tetris, and I told myself that I could just play a couple of times, for fun, for the holidays, and it would be okay. I could stop at any time. I quickly became mired in the depths of Tetris again, playing the Ultra version...the Marathon version...the Block Star and Sprint versions. I even went so far as to try a Beta version of a new mod of the game. I quest daily to surpass my friends' high scores. I can't seem to stop, no matter how hard I try.

Please, God, as I understand you, take my life over again and free me from this darkness. Help me to keep it green. Or red. Or purple. Or thin, icy blue...

When God breaks a window...

...sometimes he installs beautiful new stained glass and curtains.

Recently, my friend the Manhunter from Mars (his online musings are on the blogroll at left) tried to get me into a game called Spore. It appears to be some sort of weird hybrid of avatar-creation, Pokemon, and Myspace--you create creatures, attempt to evolve them, and can visit other worlds to see what the rest of the Spore community is up to. Sounds like fun, no? It did to me, too, but since I barely have time to eat, I couldn't imagine getting hooked on yet another addicting video game.

However, what he did not tell me is the story of Ken Walters, one of the digital artists Electronic Arts (or "EA" for short) put to work on this new game. Walters was an engineer in the UK before he was in a terrible accident--a forklift driver crushed him into a wall, fracturing his spine. He was wheelchair bound, without work, and living off the state for almost twenty years, and had two heart attacks during that time (as if the initial injury wasn't enough).

It would have been even more depressing to add a stroke to the list of things that have plagued and depressed him over the last two decades, had it not been for the stroke's bizaare blessing-in-disguise. After recovering from it, he began to doodle. A self-proclaimed non-artist in school, Walters was suddenly drawing. A lot. His doctors encouraged him, saying that sometimes the brain can be partially "rewired" after a stroke, unveiling previously hidden talents.

His doodles grew to digital imagery, and he began selling art on the internet. He even developed his own software, which he used to beef up his portfolio, before EA (the video game giant responsible for just about every good sports-oriented game on the market) snapped him up to create creatures for the Spore game for a cool 30,000 pounds British Sterling. (And counting, he has a share of the merchandising for the game.)

You can find the original story here.

Mr......Freeman? You dropped your...

I went for a walk with a friend, and saw this lying on the ground:



I looked over my shoulder immediately for Combine soldiers.