geometric proof
1. boxing is cool
2. video games are cool
therefore
3. mike tyson's punch out is double fuckin' cool

Far and away the most egregiously misguided attempt at myth-making in games history. This isn't the worst game ever. It's not the weirdest game ever. It is not the 'first American produced visual novel.' Limited Run Games seems content to simply upend truth and provenance to push a valueless narrative. The 'so bad it's good' shtick serves only to lessen the importance of early multimedia CD-ROM software, and drenching it in WordArt and clip art imparts the notion that this digital heritage was low class, low brow, low effort, and altogether primitive.

This repackaging of an overlong workplace sexual harassment/rape joke is altogether uncomfortable at best. Further problematising this, accompanying merch is resplendent with Edward J. Fasulo's bare chest despite him seemingly wanting nothing to do with the project. We've got industry veterans and games historians talking up the importance of digital detritus alongside YouTubers and LRG employees, the latter making the former less credible. We've got a novelisation by Twitter 'comedian' Mike Drucker. We've got skate decks and body pillows and more heaps of plastic garbage for video game 'collectors' to shove on a dusty shelf next to their four colour variants of Jay and Silent Bob Mall Brawl on NES, cum-encrusted Shantae statue, and countless other bits of mass-produced waste that belongs in a landfill. Utterly shameful how we engage with the past.

Bonus Definitive Edition content:
Limited Run Games is genuinely one of the most poorly managed companies on earth and I will never forgive them for giving me a PS5 copy of Cthulhu Saves Christmas instead of what I had actually ordered, a System Shock boxart poster. They also keep sending me extra copies of Jeremy Parish's books. Please, I do not need three copies of Virtual Boy Works.

From manual ore mining and smelting to fully automated space exploration, the way player agency interacts with Factorio's robust systems creates an understanding of progress as a force of nature. As the game locks the player in cycles upon cycles of expansion and recoil - as automation breeds pollution that breeds bitters that require military advances that require automation - progress emerges less out of a player's desire to try new things and more out of sheer economic necessity. The factory, a being whose will is defined by the game's ravenous and wonderful economy, slowly unravels throughout a playthrough, supplying the demands needed to keep the player constantly on the edge of their seat, as well as playing all the way through the night if they're not careful.

Seeing my pollution clouds grow as I slowly drain the entire planet of its resources makes me feel a deep dread. I took a flight a couple days after I had first finished researching logistic bots. The past weeks had been hotter than I remembered them being last year, and the last months much hotter than I remembered them being when I was a kid. I looked through the window as the plane took to the sky and I saw roads and houses and factories expanding far beyond the horizon. I think Factorio is incredibly good.

Uhhh this kind of rules?

Look, I have no delusions about being cool. When I was a kid, my dad was getting his PhD until I was like 9 years old, so I often found myself killing time in empty classrooms on Oklahoma University campus. That meant 30-60 minutes of just me and some chalkboards. For most kids, I assume that would mean a whole bunch of doodling. But for this radical 90s youth, it meant coming up with the most complicated long division problems I could and seeing how fast I could solve them.

I think basic math is fun! Sue me! My wife and I often watch 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown and compete with each other for points throughout the episode. The 2-player mode of DK Jr. Math gave me the same vibes, but with some NES jank thrown in, and being limited to using single-digit numbers for each step of your equation. I had a great time!

The single-player mode was extremely anxiety-inducing at first while I tried to figure out if I remembered how to do this kind of math without being able to write down remainders, but once I got the hang of it, I knew this was exactly the kind of edutainment that little Alex would have loved. This is absolutely not for everyone, but tiny geeks and nerds (both currently and formerly tiny) will have a blast.

I FOUND A
MIRROR
UNDER THE
TABLE.

What makes the gameplay engaging is what made it unlike other games of its time-- it favors cinematic presentation and fluidity of motion over precision. Well, most of the time. Beyond the basic aspects of the combat, kicking and punching at different heights, there's the added aspect of having momentum to your movement and needing to maneuver yourself before and during confrontations. It creates a real tension when you're deeply studying the enemy behavior in order to figure out how you're going to go about the fight-- should you back up and try to fake them out, or would a well-timed step forward and downward kick open an opportunity for some damage?

Two little design choices make it a bit rough, the existence of a trap that instakills you and isn't very easy to figure out how to maneuver past, as well as a mini-boss in the form of a vulture that requires more precision to fight than anything else in the game, which is very tough considering the considerable lag between input and action. Both constitute a difficulty spike that will easily kill a player who otherwise, through careful and considered approach, could beat the game in a few attempts after getting into the feel of the combat well enough.

I found everything about the game very impressive, it's visually very beautiful, the music has a lot of effect for being so minimal, and the sense of momentum and flow in the movements seems like something that just shouldn't be possible on such a platform. Shows you what can be achieved within tight limits if you have the vision and know-how.

Played on The Making of Karateka (2023) documentary game on steam. Of the included versions, this original was my favorite, I just thought it felt the best in moment-to-moment action and visuals. However the sound is way cooler in the others, and the remake in that collection is pretty faithful to the core design concepts.

Historically interesting in the sense of how Symphony made it more approachable while kind of fumbling/copying design decisions blindly, and how the rhythm to it feels really like Souls's fighting styles and focus on arcade-esque perfection. Of course, Souls added a lot to the mix with exporation/customization but it definitely wouldn't be what it is without borrowing from the way precise enemy placements slowly gate your way through dense levels.

I like Castlevania's creative level variety and enemy varieties! It's neat to see Wall Chicken, hearts and subweapons in a context they really make sense. But, even though this is so well designed for what it is, it just lacks that special something that makes it really shine as exciting to me - it's just thematically dry to me like a lot of games (even today). The design is really straightforward - layers of mastery culminating to a performance of clearing the game without dying.

On a nitpick level there's a level of trying to guess the enemy AI that's required to succeed (e.g. sticking close to phase 2 Dracula to prevent fireballs) and that kind of AI design just isn't my preference... it's also hard to learn later sections without save states. But I think those design decisions made a lot of sense for a time where people would discuss and share strategies, so you don't want the game to be totally self-contained. And to some extent memorizing those little AI quirks is part of the charm of these games.

definitely feels like a former game jam game in the sense that there's a neat core idea here and a neat core aesthetic here but none of it is refined to a sheen or tied adequately into itself.

i could get by without a map just off of memory and i got used to the movement and combat to the point of even the final battle being trivial, but none of these things felt particularly good in action. nothing really reached a point of feeling like it clicked, and none of it quite stuck with me, not helped by the aesthetic not at all being pushed as far as it could have been.

it was still fun, of course, and for the most part i had a good time (especially doing the many many sequence breaks the game allows), but there's a lot still missing here that i would hope the developer feels encouraged to pursue if they make a second entry or some other game in this vein. this is an expanded and cool proof of concept but there just needs to be more time put in for something like it to truly shine.

The simple act of holding hands is key to a bond between boy and girl that transcends their language barrier. With no HUD, no life bar, no button prompts, and no tutorials, Ico is the purest experience in all of gaming. You discover everything for yourself, with nothing to break your immersion. The castle the game takes place in is a character unto itself, your prison and biggest obstacle, with such a well thought out interconnected design.

A game absolutely everyone should play to open their eyes to the power of the medium for storytelling, a landmark in gameplay-story integration.