The staff at the World Video Game Hall of Fame have, with great care, winnowed down objects in the medium that they feel best represents the important developments in the history of the video game.
Dominic Arsenault's Super Power, Spoony Bards, and Silverware cuts through the nostalgia so sharply that it comes off as dismissive, hostile even, at least to someone used to reading the flowery prose of fan literature.
Just as you interrogate your companions and enemies in order to understand them and their worlds, the game reveals itself to have been questioning you. What kind of player are you? What kind of person?
The one part of gaming that can lay claim to true, untarnished ‘freeness’ is the open-source world, where other incentives besides profit drive creativity.
Westworld seems less interested in examining traditional protagonists than interrogating the behaviors and abuses of a fictional world's props, its non-player characters.
Though the video game industry bases itself on forward progression, the rich history of the medium is being underserved by the lack of preservation for older, essential games.
Austin Grossman's You is kind of like one long advertisement for the sanctity of the video game and the coolness of working in the video games industry.
My own arcade was called the Gold Mine and featured a facade of a 19th century mine entrance as the portal to entry. Greeting one inside, though, were simply rows of machines spread across a rather filthy and threadbare carpet and a cacophony of bleeps and bloops. Most often there was nary a girl in sight.
