Sometimes it is even easy for me to forget that my generation did not grow up with all of the digital capacity that we currently have today. Most of the basic life changing advancements that we are now accustomed to started becoming popular while I was in junior high and high school: digital cameras, small cell phones with games, chat rooms, email. Even video cameras to some extent were difficult to come by and you certainly didn't have one on your phone.
But my generation did usher in (or perhaps just rode along with) the video game. Before NES found its way into homes, my brother and I were already well versed in the ground breaking work of Atari. I still occasionally long for a good game of Joust or that boxer game where the graphics were so simple, it gave you only an overhead view of the two "boxers": a circle with a nub (what I saw as a nose) from which protruded two L shaped lines with circles on the end (his arms and fists). Your boxer floated around the square (that was the boxing ring) and delivered a punch with the appropriate arm depending on where the target was (there was only one button after all).
Compared to that, Mario (and even Ninja Turtles) was fascinating!
You can almost say that I grew up with video games. I don't mean playing them, though that is certainly true, but that as I grew up, matured, became more complex, so did video games. Perhaps I was a touch ahead of them, but you could certainly say this for my brother's generation (he's 4 years behind me).
Perhaps it is because of this that I wonder if kids today are getting the full benefit of video games. Do they really appreciate that two people can play at once and that you don't have to take turns? Do they realize that games in the past still required at least some bit of imagination? And, perhaps most importantly, do they really appreciate the ability to save their game?
At the time that the Beethoven movies (the ones about the big saint Bernard not the pianist) were popular, Super Nintendo made a game a based off it (Beethoven's 2nd). The object of the game was to save all of Beethoven's puppies and return them to their mother. You played as Beethoven. You had two lines of defense: your bark (which you could hold down for a long time so that your sound waves would travel a further distance) and you could shake water on enemies, should you be lucky enough to find a sprinkler or leaky fire hydrant to get wet with.
Despite being a large Saint Bernard (looking something like this:)
You couldn't get touched by anything, be it bird, forgotten rakes, a falling apple, or another dog without losing a heart. And you only get 5 hits. One particularly frustrated player has posted video of this here if you are interested: ouch!
Sure you can occasionally pick up a bone, but bones are few and far between and so you must master jumping, barking, shaking, and avoiding or you will never make it through the level.
The game is set up with four levels each with two parts. In the first part you must go find the puppy. It is your classic scroll forever right game as seen in the video above. At the end of the level you get the puppy. The second part is to carry the puppy to his mother. Yes, carry the puppy. This means that while the puppy is in your mouth, you can't bark (basically your only defense as water is hard to come by) and when you put the puppy down, like all good pups, he wanders off.
And here's the best part. There is no save. You get a set number of lives (I don't remember exactly but it is low, probably your typical 3) and once those are up, you have to start over COMPLETELY from stage one. It doesn't matter if you are on level 4, stage 2 and the mother is RIGHT there and if you could set the puppy down he'd probably wander into her. If a bat happens to swoop down at that exact moment and brush your head and you die-- you're going back to the very beginning!
As you can imagine, this is frustrating. And many reviews will label it a shitty game for all of the reasons above: your weapons "suck," you move slow, everything hurts you, then you can't even use one of your weapons without setting down the thing you need to save, which you have to chase down if you set it down in the wrong direction and it can also get hurt, and there is no save.
At least they had the decency to put an extra life at the beginning of Level 4.2, but it is in quite a tricky spot and is easy to forget to grab and you will likely lose a hit if you go after it anyway.
I imagine that this game wasn't very popular even when compared to other games that didn't save or that were considered difficult, but now it is particularly loathed. There are quite a few humorous gamers that make their online reputation by dissing on old games such as this one. The Angry Nerd has quite a repertoire of videos that are quite funny to watch.
But reviews of this nature seem to imply that we only played those games because there was nothing better. While this may be factually partly true, I think that we when we diss these games we are missing quite a few things.
1. There WASN'T anything better, because this is the best that we had gotten and that was still pretty damn neat and fun.
2. Perhaps most importantly, I think that these games taught us something that new gamers aren't necessarily getting: Patience and endurance.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that we don't have to work to beat games of today. We do. Plus, I cannot even imagine the sad pitiful state we would all be in if we had to beat something like Halo without any save points-- not to mention the sleepless days or weeks of our time. I'm just saying that the games in the past weren't all bad.
Many people would make the argument that video games are actually good for you (I know this as I've read quite a few student papers that touch on this point). If historically accurate they can teach you about history, some games actually are meant to be educational, if you play online you can connect culturally with people all over the world (I mean how else are you going to learn to curse in other languages?), and that games like Grand Theft Auto teach you the realities of breaking the law in real life because you are more likely to die or get arrested more often than you will beat the game. And, here, they point out, is the important part. Like a work of literature it allows you to be someone else for awhile and to both take glory in their heroism and learn from their mistakes.
After all, (as one of my students recently put it) in Call of Duty I might die 5 times because I keep firing my rocket launcher too close to the wall, but I know in real life, if I ever encounter an actual rocket launcher, that I've only got one shot to get it right and not kill myself. (And perhaps, now I will know to step away from the wall before firing.)
Basically then, this argument then claims that we know that in REAL life there are no extra lives. We might get a redo now and again and if we are working on a project, it is always at least partially saved (where's it going to go after all?). But video games give us a chance to escape the facts of reality. Video games give us the chance to make mistakes, even die, and still come out the hero.
That's a very appealing thing after all.
But I wonder if anyone has ever felt as ultimately superior as I did when I FINALLY, after weeks of working my little fingers to the bone pounding buttons, delivered that final, damned puppy to its mother.
Now, I don't want to sound like the old grandma that walked up hill both ways to school in the snow every day, but doesn't working your ass off and doing it the hard way mean anything?
After all, there must be something to it. Otherwise why would we be getting games like N+ and Super Meat Boy popping up, games that offer you very difficult levels, full of enemies, with no defense other than your speed and ability to jump? These games have taken a modified approach to their retro cousins that they humorously pay homage to through style or character names; they offer you infinite lives and you at least get to save between levels. But-- if you are at the end of that level, even if they are fairly short (they better be since some of them are so damn hard), and you die before reaching your goal-- you have to start that level over. N+ takes it as far as making you play 4-5 levels in one set. So what you really play are sets, and though you may have infinite lives, if you quit before finishing all the levels in that set, next time, you're starting over from the beginning. In a somewhat similar way, Super Meat Boy offers bonus levels called warp zones. There are 3 levels you need to complete and you have only 3 lives to do it (infinite lives are suspended here). If you die three times you have to start over from scratch. These levels are just as hard as the in game levels too. You can do this infinitely, but you still need to start and finish 3 levels in 3 lives with no defense other than the ability to jump.
These games, despite their reminiscent of the frustrating oldies of yore, are very popular and happen to be two games that I really enjoy playing. They are also games that many get frustrated with and quit before ever finishing.
And in a world where all of our digital conveniences are getting quicker, easier, more apart of our lives, making our lives run more smoothly, I think something needs to be said for the things out there that still make you work for them, that still make you frustrated, that still make you pound your fist and try your hardest.
Because the victory of achieving such things is far, far sweeter.
Though I had no desire to EVER play Beethoven's 2nd again (no real desire anyway), I kept it as a trophy for years. Smiling whenever I saw it in the drawer. Like a hunter mounting a head on the wall, I looked into the eyes of the doggies on the sticker and thought, "I beat you."
Needless to say, a part of me died a little when my brother accidentally traded it in years later. But the revelry remains.
All video games, in some way, teach us to never give up, teach us that mistakes and disappointment are only part of the journey, and that the pay off is worth it, but do they all teach us to try our hardest? To endure to the point of breaking?
I can certainly see where that, perhaps, would definitely seem to "take all the fun out of it," but for years before a save option or multiple weapons existed, we did have fun. A whole generation or more had fun. If we hadn't, no one would had tilled away to even create the save option in the first place. Why develop something further if it only causes frustration and mental pain?
Because clearly, it didn't, it doesn't, and it never will. And just like anything in life, we need to learn to appreciate the games that make us curse and jump and scream and perhaps endanger a controller or two (not because they are faulty, but because they are are hard) just as much as we enjoy the games we breeze on through. After all, maybe those games are only easy because we were faced with the other to begin with.
But my generation did usher in (or perhaps just rode along with) the video game. Before NES found its way into homes, my brother and I were already well versed in the ground breaking work of Atari. I still occasionally long for a good game of Joust or that boxer game where the graphics were so simple, it gave you only an overhead view of the two "boxers": a circle with a nub (what I saw as a nose) from which protruded two L shaped lines with circles on the end (his arms and fists). Your boxer floated around the square (that was the boxing ring) and delivered a punch with the appropriate arm depending on where the target was (there was only one button after all).
Compared to that, Mario (and even Ninja Turtles) was fascinating!
You can almost say that I grew up with video games. I don't mean playing them, though that is certainly true, but that as I grew up, matured, became more complex, so did video games. Perhaps I was a touch ahead of them, but you could certainly say this for my brother's generation (he's 4 years behind me).
Perhaps it is because of this that I wonder if kids today are getting the full benefit of video games. Do they really appreciate that two people can play at once and that you don't have to take turns? Do they realize that games in the past still required at least some bit of imagination? And, perhaps most importantly, do they really appreciate the ability to save their game?
At the time that the Beethoven movies (the ones about the big saint Bernard not the pianist) were popular, Super Nintendo made a game a based off it (Beethoven's 2nd). The object of the game was to save all of Beethoven's puppies and return them to their mother. You played as Beethoven. You had two lines of defense: your bark (which you could hold down for a long time so that your sound waves would travel a further distance) and you could shake water on enemies, should you be lucky enough to find a sprinkler or leaky fire hydrant to get wet with.
Despite being a large Saint Bernard (looking something like this:)
Sure you can occasionally pick up a bone, but bones are few and far between and so you must master jumping, barking, shaking, and avoiding or you will never make it through the level.
The game is set up with four levels each with two parts. In the first part you must go find the puppy. It is your classic scroll forever right game as seen in the video above. At the end of the level you get the puppy. The second part is to carry the puppy to his mother. Yes, carry the puppy. This means that while the puppy is in your mouth, you can't bark (basically your only defense as water is hard to come by) and when you put the puppy down, like all good pups, he wanders off.
And here's the best part. There is no save. You get a set number of lives (I don't remember exactly but it is low, probably your typical 3) and once those are up, you have to start over COMPLETELY from stage one. It doesn't matter if you are on level 4, stage 2 and the mother is RIGHT there and if you could set the puppy down he'd probably wander into her. If a bat happens to swoop down at that exact moment and brush your head and you die-- you're going back to the very beginning!
As you can imagine, this is frustrating. And many reviews will label it a shitty game for all of the reasons above: your weapons "suck," you move slow, everything hurts you, then you can't even use one of your weapons without setting down the thing you need to save, which you have to chase down if you set it down in the wrong direction and it can also get hurt, and there is no save.
At least they had the decency to put an extra life at the beginning of Level 4.2, but it is in quite a tricky spot and is easy to forget to grab and you will likely lose a hit if you go after it anyway.
I imagine that this game wasn't very popular even when compared to other games that didn't save or that were considered difficult, but now it is particularly loathed. There are quite a few humorous gamers that make their online reputation by dissing on old games such as this one. The Angry Nerd has quite a repertoire of videos that are quite funny to watch.
But reviews of this nature seem to imply that we only played those games because there was nothing better. While this may be factually partly true, I think that we when we diss these games we are missing quite a few things.
1. There WASN'T anything better, because this is the best that we had gotten and that was still pretty damn neat and fun.
2. Perhaps most importantly, I think that these games taught us something that new gamers aren't necessarily getting: Patience and endurance.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that we don't have to work to beat games of today. We do. Plus, I cannot even imagine the sad pitiful state we would all be in if we had to beat something like Halo without any save points-- not to mention the sleepless days or weeks of our time. I'm just saying that the games in the past weren't all bad.
Many people would make the argument that video games are actually good for you (I know this as I've read quite a few student papers that touch on this point). If historically accurate they can teach you about history, some games actually are meant to be educational, if you play online you can connect culturally with people all over the world (I mean how else are you going to learn to curse in other languages?), and that games like Grand Theft Auto teach you the realities of breaking the law in real life because you are more likely to die or get arrested more often than you will beat the game. And, here, they point out, is the important part. Like a work of literature it allows you to be someone else for awhile and to both take glory in their heroism and learn from their mistakes.
After all, (as one of my students recently put it) in Call of Duty I might die 5 times because I keep firing my rocket launcher too close to the wall, but I know in real life, if I ever encounter an actual rocket launcher, that I've only got one shot to get it right and not kill myself. (And perhaps, now I will know to step away from the wall before firing.)
Basically then, this argument then claims that we know that in REAL life there are no extra lives. We might get a redo now and again and if we are working on a project, it is always at least partially saved (where's it going to go after all?). But video games give us a chance to escape the facts of reality. Video games give us the chance to make mistakes, even die, and still come out the hero.
That's a very appealing thing after all.
But I wonder if anyone has ever felt as ultimately superior as I did when I FINALLY, after weeks of working my little fingers to the bone pounding buttons, delivered that final, damned puppy to its mother.
Now, I don't want to sound like the old grandma that walked up hill both ways to school in the snow every day, but doesn't working your ass off and doing it the hard way mean anything?
After all, there must be something to it. Otherwise why would we be getting games like N+ and Super Meat Boy popping up, games that offer you very difficult levels, full of enemies, with no defense other than your speed and ability to jump? These games have taken a modified approach to their retro cousins that they humorously pay homage to through style or character names; they offer you infinite lives and you at least get to save between levels. But-- if you are at the end of that level, even if they are fairly short (they better be since some of them are so damn hard), and you die before reaching your goal-- you have to start that level over. N+ takes it as far as making you play 4-5 levels in one set. So what you really play are sets, and though you may have infinite lives, if you quit before finishing all the levels in that set, next time, you're starting over from the beginning. In a somewhat similar way, Super Meat Boy offers bonus levels called warp zones. There are 3 levels you need to complete and you have only 3 lives to do it (infinite lives are suspended here). If you die three times you have to start over from scratch. These levels are just as hard as the in game levels too. You can do this infinitely, but you still need to start and finish 3 levels in 3 lives with no defense other than the ability to jump.
These games, despite their reminiscent of the frustrating oldies of yore, are very popular and happen to be two games that I really enjoy playing. They are also games that many get frustrated with and quit before ever finishing.
And in a world where all of our digital conveniences are getting quicker, easier, more apart of our lives, making our lives run more smoothly, I think something needs to be said for the things out there that still make you work for them, that still make you frustrated, that still make you pound your fist and try your hardest.
Because the victory of achieving such things is far, far sweeter.
Though I had no desire to EVER play Beethoven's 2nd again (no real desire anyway), I kept it as a trophy for years. Smiling whenever I saw it in the drawer. Like a hunter mounting a head on the wall, I looked into the eyes of the doggies on the sticker and thought, "I beat you."
Needless to say, a part of me died a little when my brother accidentally traded it in years later. But the revelry remains.
All video games, in some way, teach us to never give up, teach us that mistakes and disappointment are only part of the journey, and that the pay off is worth it, but do they all teach us to try our hardest? To endure to the point of breaking?
I can certainly see where that, perhaps, would definitely seem to "take all the fun out of it," but for years before a save option or multiple weapons existed, we did have fun. A whole generation or more had fun. If we hadn't, no one would had tilled away to even create the save option in the first place. Why develop something further if it only causes frustration and mental pain?
Because clearly, it didn't, it doesn't, and it never will. And just like anything in life, we need to learn to appreciate the games that make us curse and jump and scream and perhaps endanger a controller or two (not because they are faulty, but because they are are hard) just as much as we enjoy the games we breeze on through. After all, maybe those games are only easy because we were faced with the other to begin with.
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