A petty demonstration created by a developer to taunt the encroaching accusation of white-collar criminality.

The game was slotted into trivia-horny gamers' rolodexes when it was put on Xbox 360's Game Room, which would only be surprising if you weren't familiar with how awful that platform was. The idea that someone business-minded thought people would pay for this is honestly hilarious, but really it's the quartercocked attempt at games preservation on display that pisses in the water of its otherwise interesting history.

With a name as euphonic as "Venetian Blinds," you'd be forgiven for mistaking this as some underground standard of cyber-beauty, maybe adopted by the vaporwave movement as a peek into a future aborted before conception - but as one glance suggests, the choices of color alongside the sunbled pixel sky are as gaudy as a console released in the 70s would have you assume.  As an anecdote in the history of games it holds a skosh of interest, but as a symbol of anything it's shockingly incapable. You'd think a 2600 game accidentally being an ancient case of anti-gaming defiance would land it some credence, but for me it only highlights the incapability and cyclical rot of the industry. Atari Inc. deserved to die as it turns out, but a still-thriving Activision pulling the trigger leaves a lot to be desired.

I was led to believe we hit the reset button soon after this, but the cadence has yet to die down nearly 40 years later, and all we're left with is an ugly window to open and close. It's a nice view, though.

Anyway, happy E3 week, everyone!