Tomorrow, the United States will inaugurate its first black president, Barack Obama. In honor of this watershed moment in American history, I thought we should pay tribute to another African-American trailblazer: the first black video game character. After some searching, I believe I’ve found him.
In Memoriam: EGM (1989-2009), American video game magazine par excellence.
As far as I can recall, this is the first issue of Electronic Gaming Monthly I ever bought. I spotted it on a newsstand in a grocery store and begged my mom to buy it for me. Over the next few months of 1993, I bought each new issue from the same source until I convinced my parents that it would be cheaper just to subscribe. So they signed me up, and I’ve been a subscriber to EGM ever since.
Until now. Troubled publisher Ziff-Davis — owner of the 1UP Network and EGM — recently announced the sale of its 1UP property to UGO Entertainment. Sadly, EGM isn’t going along for the ride, but is instead shutting down. January 2009 will be the last issue of EGM in print.
Prior to discovering EGM, my only exposure to video game magazines had been Nintendo Power, the official Nintendo-sanctioned magazine devoted only to Nintendo products. As a publication, Nintendo Power spoke with a sterile, self-censoring voice that was low on speculation and high on propaganda. In contrast, EGM, with its edgy style, gossip column, international coverage, and devotion to multiple platforms (including arcade! — that blew my young mind), opened up a whole new side of the video game industry to me and ignited a passion for the field that persists to this day.
As a writing professional, EGM’s closure stings for reasons beyond simple fandom. Since writing for 1UP.com and visiting EGM’s offices in early 2008, I’ve been fortunate enough to befriend a number of EGM’s editors and staff. As news goes around that over 30 employees’ jobs fell victim to the shakeup, I find myself wincing and hoping the best for all of my colleagues in writing and publishing. Those that met the unsparing axe of nickel-and-dime economics will likely find new jobs elsewhere in time — hopefully sooner rather than later. Until then, I wish them the best of luck, and I’d like to thank EGM’s staff (past and present) for twenty years of incredible, inspiring work.
I should be ashamed of myself. I do so much vintage stuff every week, but I’m usually too lazy to tell you guys about it — and I run a blog called Vintage Computing and Gaming. Well, maybe I can do more quick updates on my activities in the future. Here’s the first.
A few months ago, I visited a family friend’s house. She was cleaning out her attic, and I had long since promised to help her get rid of the numerous dusty computers her late husband had collected.
I came home with seven machines, including an Apple IIc and an old Compaq bearing a Post-It Note warning: “Do not get on this computer.” The note backfired, of course, as it insured that I would be getting on it post-haste.
Once atop the slumbering beast — some five inches off the ground — I booted the machine. Therein, I found a sluggish, hobbled-by-its-own-nature install of Windows ME and no less than 86 virii (this is not an exaggeration) intertwined with every facet of the operating system. As per my promise to the former owner, I formatted the drive with extreme prejudice.
Chief among the other spoils were a NES Action Set in a near-mint box; the aforementioned Apple IIc’s original box with all documentation; an Apple IIc color monitor and monitor stand, both in box; various boxed Apple II and PC software; a box; six PC clones of various vintage between an AT-class machine and Pentium stuff (no boxes to be seen); and an awesome, non-boxy Model 500 rotary telephone in stylish red and black.
Above all else, the equipment carried with it a priceless nostalgic element: I had watched my brother’s best friend use most of these items when I was a kid, so it was very familiar to me.
What you see in the back of the truck above would have met death-by-dumpster had I not gallantly rushed in to save it. Of course, now it’s cluttering up my house instead of hers. Despite the nostalgia rush, I’m starting to think our family friend got the better end of the deal.
Click above to see the full advertisement
Of all the Christmas-themed vintage computer ads I’ve seen, this 25 year-old specimen stands out for its rich, colorful illustration as one of my favorites. The item for sale in this case is PeachText 5000, an otherwise-boring productivity application (from a modern perspective, anyway). But hey; at least they hired a good illustrator.
By the way, I’d like to wish everybody out there a Merry Christmas / Happy Holidays from VC&G. While being relatively lazy for the next week, I’m going to take this opportunity to do some serious video game playin’. I hope you get the chance to do the same. Mother 3, here I come!
Discussion topic of the week: It’s Santa time. If you could magically (and freely) have any one item for your classic computer or video game collection, what would it be?
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Just yesterday, chiptune artist Doctor Octoroc released a full MP3 album of NES-inspired Christmas songs called 8-Bit Jesus. It’s nothing less than a chiptune tour de force, brilliantly re-imagining familiar Christmas songs like Silent Night, Joy to the World, and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer in the style of classic music from NES titles like Castlevania, Mega Man, Kid Icarus, and more.
Each track feels like it was pulled straight from an authentic NES cart; the haunting Kraid, Rest Ye Mother Brain delivers Christmas in the depths of Zebes, cleverly mixing God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen with one of Metroid’s classic tunes.
Download the full album in MP3 format here. Or, if you donate $15 to Octoroc, he’ll even send you a physical copy on CD.
One warning though: aside from the last two tracks, this album is not a relaxing, laid-back listen — most of these action-packed songs will make you feel like you’re living in a frantic NES game (in other words, it’s not quite grandma material). But for those who grew up receiving the latest NES game for Christmas, this collection brings back warm and fuzzy feelings that perfectly channel the spirit of the Yuletide.
Thirty years ago last June, Texas Instruments introduced Speak & Spell at the Summer Consumer Electronics Show in Chicago. This electronic spelling teacher for kids broke new ground by speaking out words via built-in voice synthesis — a world-first for a consumer product.
By Christmas 1978, the iconic orange and yellow device hit stores with a suggested retail price of $50 (US). TI’s new toy sold very well and became a media sensation, landing on magazine covers and eventually making an appearance as a key prop in a major Hollywood film, E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial.
Intending to write an article about Speak & Spell’s 30th anniversary last July, I conducted an email interview with Richard Wiggins, a member of the original Speak & Spell development team. Wiggins is notable for co-designing speech synthesis techniques capable of being mass-produced in an inexpensive consumer product, which was no minor task in 1978.
I wanted to share my interview with Mr. Wiggins before the year is out, as it’s not only more relevant during 2008, but it also might be of interest to historians some day. In the mean time, I hope you enjoy reading it.
In case you were wondering, the computer mouse turned 40 today.
… or, at least, that’s what everybody is saying, despite the fact that Douglas Engelbart cobbled together his first mouse in 1963 (which would make the mouse something more like 45). But ah, the vagaries of media semantics — somebody toots their horn and then everybody has to jump on board.
Despite the numbers game, this date is indeed a special anniversary, because 40 years ago today, Douglas Engelbart presented “the mother of all demos” at the Fall Joint Computer Conference in San Francisco. This event was notable, among other reasons, for being the first time the public laid eyes on the computer mouse.
By now, you’re probably saying, “That’s great Benj, but I’m suspicious that you actually posted something on VC&G! Where do you and your professional career fit into this?” Well, I’m getting to that. In honor of this anniversary, Macworld asked me to write a short piece on the history of the mouse. After deliberating with myself for about 30 seconds, I accepted the assignment.
Over the next few days, I managed to assemble a comprehensive timeline that traces the mouse’s technical evolution through the years. Unsurprisingly, you can find it on Macworld.com. Feel free to check it out if you’re interested, and tell them Benj sent ya. Even if you don’t check it out, remember to stare extra hard at your mouse today and contemplate its origins in the vast foggy distance of time.
Get thee to a nunnery
Ten years ago this Friday, Nintendo released what many consider to be the greatest Zelda title of all time, if not one of the greatest video games ever created. The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time went on sale in Japan on November 21, 1998 after a long period of eager anticipation on the part of Zelda fans, who hadn’t seen a home console Zelda title since 1991’s A Link to the Past on the Super NES. Nintendo hyped up the release of their new game by offering a limited edition gold-colored cartridge (seen here) to those who pre-ordered Ocarina in the US.
Sadly, I missed out on the gold carts, but I did manage to snag a copy (a very gray copy) for Christmas 1998. Honestly, since playing through Ocarina of Time almost a decade ago, that personal experience — in terms of its joy, its depth, and its enchanting, enveloping nature — has yet to be surpassed by any other title. Now that’s a good video game.
Discussion topic of the week: Tell us why you think the Ocarina of Time is great. How, if at all, has the game been influential to the video game industry?
If you use this image on your site, please support “Retro Scan of the Week” by giving us obvious credit for the original scan and entry. Thanks.
Yep, all this junk is on my workbench at the moment. What a mess. How many VC&G-related items can you name?
While you work on that, I’m going downstairs to clean it up.
Just a quick administrative note — I’ve been so busy focusing on other anniversaries that I forgot my own. Three years ago last week, I started the very blog you’re reading now, Vintage Computing and Gaming. I determined very soon after that I would always write Vintage Computing and Gaming in italics because it looks more official, as if this were a distinguished and respectable publication worthy of title formatting treatment. (A few years of Ulaf appearances probably destroyed that illusion.) If nothing else, the fancy italics helped my morale as I toiled away in obscurity, churning out regular, unique content that (I hoped) couldn’t be found anywhere else.
Since then, the site has stayed mostly the same, although the post frequency has gone down quite a bit since I began doing professional freelance writing work a few years ago. Despite that, I’m very grateful that thousands of thoughtful, intelligent readers (i.e. you) regularly check out VC&G for the latest posts. At least I still find time to do Retro Scan of the Week, if nothing else, and I hope you don’t mind me keeping you updated on my latest VC&G-related freelance work. I do have new VC&G-only features on the way that I’ve been working on here and there, so there’s always new content around the corner.
Looking toward the future, I can’t see a reason why this site won’t be around for a long time. I love doing what I do, and I still have an enormous (and overwhelming) computer and video game collection to draw material from. So as long as you keep reading, I’ll keep this place running. Thanks for your support and your wonderful comments over the years. Please stick around; there’s more to come. –Benj
