I think this title is a bit misleading. Let me begin by stating, I do not think there’s any one definite answer to this question; furthermore, this blog post is more reactionary than critical. With that said, I suppose this post is meant to pose the question: “What do you think will happen, when generations of classic gamers drop the torch?” I address this post to you, the younger generations of gamers. I and many gamers like me who grew up on that old-school sheeze honestly respect you and realize that without your determination, gaming might have died a quiet death years ago.
I guess my introspection all started with a Raspberry Pi. For those of you unfamiliar with the device, it’s just a tiny little computer that takes minutes to set up (I’m oversimplifying a bit). Like any CPU, it completes tasks asked of it. If you string up a couple of them, it has more processing power. My brother, the same man who graciously helped me build my streaming pc, purchased a Raspberry Pi kit to emulate Nintendo and Super Nintendo games. In one end of his little device he plugs in a controller, and the other plugs into the television. I’m sure he also had to download software, but from what I’ve heard, setup is a breeze.
So when I visited him a few weeks ago, he sat me down for a few quick matches of Mortal Kombat III (and kicked my ass because III was always one of my weaker iterations of the franchise). As we exchanged ice balls and flying kicks, his girlfriend’s daughter watched unamused and counted the seconds until she and her friend could hop on our backs for piggyback races. That, my friends, is when I realized that old-school games are not as fun as they were when I was a child, and for better or worse, it would be foolish of us to expect a meaningful portion of the younger generations to embrace this stuff.
Heck, I can’t even embrace it anymore. After COD multiplayer, MMOs, and massive worlds like GTA and Fallout, it’s tough for me to spend hours in front of a television enduring the unforgiving precision and monotony of Battletoads. I can only imagine how tough it might be for people who never grew up with an Atari to appreciate Frogger. After all it’s just pixels that, if you squint enough, resemble logs, cars, and frogs.
Nonetheless I’ll still spend a bit of time on these classics because they fill me with nostalgia. They remind me of who I am and where I’ve journeyed. And during the five whole minutes we spent playing that day, he said something that completely sobered me: “What happens to these games when our generation stops playing.” Now “stops playing” is sad enough to warrant another discussion altogether, but he made an earth-shattering point. Other than as a tool of reminiscence, there’s little use for these games, and when nobody is left to reminisce…
So I wonder where these dinosaurs belong. I love them. And if you’re still reading this, you probably do too. I love them, but I don’t want to play them. That’s where it gets heavy. It’s heavy in that I have a habit of metaphorizing video games and life. I think of all the things, people, times I love/d. I realize that love has its chronological limits. I know that I’m getting older, much like my parents and grandparents are doing or have done. I realize that I’m finite, and as I succumb to the notion that I don’t want to play NES games, I in some way have admitted that obsolescence is unavoidable for video games and people. That’s flippin’ sad.
Am I a bit melodramatic? Probably, but I think somebody, someday will read this and think of me. Somewhere, someone will know that I once existed, so that begs the question: is there a scrapbook/photo album for old-school video games. Does my counterpart one century from now want a way to pretend he understands what it might’ve been like to play PacMan. I hope so.
As I finished the first boss of Blaster Master (one the toughest games I’ve ever played) that day, I came to realize that I will probably never beat that game in my lifespan. I also understood that as the brain with tiny orbiting brains exploded around me, the younger generation is more concerned with the power up it drops than the actual skill it takes to defeat it. But most importantly, I realized that I am unique. Very few can realize the sheer beauty of these dying gems-the sheer sense of accomplishment I felt when I almost defeated Shredder or the sense of life-altering disappointment one can feel after two hours of gaming ended with one misstep and no options left but to start over from the beginning. 50 years from now, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a soul who has defeated Super Mario Brothers 3 without using a warp whistle or unlocked Reptile at the bottom of a spike-filled pit.
Game well, and chime in. I would like to know what you think.
Speaking of old school, for those of you yearning for a Metroid-ish gaming experience, I highly recommend playing Axiom Verge. It’s well-developed and intuitive game with wholesome indie charm. I’m working on posting a quick video, but feel free to contact me if you have questions in the meantime.
40-Something Gamer 