Gaming Comfort Food

Just recently I have been suffering from what mental health professionals tend to refer to somewhat euphemistically as “low mood” — which is to say I’ve been feeling really fucking depressed. Video games have long been a part of my own personal coping mechanism for times like this, but I’ve been somewhat surprised of late as to the specific experiences I’ve found myself gravitating towards.

In the past, I’d historically try and immerse myself in a thoroughly involving game with a good story to try and get away from feeling bad about everyday life. And don’t get me wrong, that’s still very much appealing, and something I will absolutely continue with until the end of time. But specifically during my most recent depressive episode, I’ve found no greater joy than that which I have discovered in the depths of really old video games. Specifically, Atari 2600 and Intellivision titles.

I didn’t grow up with the Atari 2600 — it was always the poor cousin to the Atari 8-bit home computers that were in our household during my childhood — but in more recent years I’ve come to regard the classic system with considerable fondness. This is a result of a combination of factors: the number of times I’ve watched Mark Bussler’s “Classic Game Room” videos on YouTube, where he seems to hold even the very worst Atari 2600 games with a considerable degree of affection, and the Atari A to Z Flashback project I did myself on YouTube, which involved playing through 150 Atari games, many of which were 2600 titles.

The Intellivision, meanwhile, is not a system I had any contact with whatsoever growing up, but having explored it through a combination of Intellivision Lives! on PS2 and the two Evercade Intellivision compilations — both of which I was heavily involved with the production of on the documentation and testing side of things — I have also come to regard it with some fondness. And there are a few games I find myself continually coming back to.

So just for a bit of fun today, I thought I’d pick out a few games that I’ve been drawing distinct comfort from recently. And if you’re open to the idea of really old games — I realise they’re an acquired taste for many — then I encourage you to give these a go when you’re feeling low. They might just give you the lift you need.

Motocross (Intellivision)

When I first saw Motocross, I thought it looked like a load of old shit. When I first played Motocross, I thought it was a load of old shit. And yet this is probably the Intellivision title I’ve found myself returning to most frequently of late — there’s an undeniably addictive quality to simply chasing your own best times around the three included courses, and on top of that there’s a course editor included for you to make your own challenges.

Motocross is an isometric perspective racing game that was noteworthy at the time of its original release for its relatively realistic physics — indeed, the programmer used to troll people in the office by turning the gravity down really low then giggling as people launched themselves into the stratosphere from the various jump ramps.

It’s slow and sluggish to play and the scrolling is terrible — the Intellivision wasn’t great at that — but once you look past the surface-level ugliness there’s a game that strikes a good balance between accessibility and being technically demanding underneath. I’ve been finding it a great comfort of late.

Enduro (Atari 2600)

The spiritual precursor to The Great American Cross-Country Road Race, Enduro from Activision is an all-time classic for Atari 2600. The concept is simple: you simply have to overtake a set number of cars over the course of a virtual in-game day. If you succeed, you get to keep racing for another day; fail and your race is over. Your aim is simply to record as high a distance as possible on the satisfyingly “rolly numbers” odometer at the bottom of the screen.

Enduro is cool because it’s a simple, early vanishing point racer that plays to the Atari 2600’s strengths and doesn’t try to do anything too ambitious in terms of gameplay. Presentation is another matter, however; this was a noteworthy game back in the day for incorporating a full day-night cycle, variable weather conditions and even a rudimentary form of lighting simulation.

Enduro is simple enough to pick up and play, but massively addictive because of that. You always feel like you might be able to push yourself just that little bit further — and that’s just what you need when you’re feeling a bit low.

Berzerk (Atari 2600)

It may not be the prettiest or best version of Berzerk — the Atari 8-bit version is rather more authentic to the arcade machine, complete with digitised speech — but the 2600 version has a distinct character all of its own, and it’s a ton of fun to play.

For the unfamiliar, Berzerk involves nothing more than moving your little man around and shooting the robots. Clear a room full of robots and you get some bonus points, but stick around too long and Evil Otto comes chasing you down. Like most 2600 games, it’s simple but effective, and it really keeps you on your toes as the pace gradually increases.

Cloudy Mountain (Intellivision)

The Intellivision Collection 2 cartridge for Evercade contains two of the platform’s best and most ambitious games: Cloudy Mountain (formerly Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Cartridge) and Tower of Doom. Both of these are games that I find myself coming back to regularly, but Cloudy Mountain is probably the one I turn to more often if my brain isn’t quite functioning quite correctly and I just want something to fiddle around with for a few minutes.

In Cloudy Mountain, your aim is simple: get your party of three bow-wielding warriors from the little house on the left of the map to the eponymous mountain on the right side of the map. Once there, defeat the two winged dragons guarding the two halves of the Crown of Kings, then grab said Crown and enjoy your well-earned sense of victory. Along the way, you’ll have to explore randomly generated dungeons and find helpful items to traverse the various obstacles on the map, with your only defence being your dwindling stock of arrows.

Cloudy Mountain is one of those games that looks and sounds like it might be quite complex when you first try it, but it’s actually quite simple — and as such it’s a great game to jump into if you just want to play something that doesn’t make too many demands of the player.

Missile Command (Atari 2600)

Missile Command is an inherently stressful game, particularly in its arcade incarnation, but I’ve found the Atari 2600 version on its default difficulty level to strike a good balance between challenge and accessibility. Despite lacking a few features from the arcade game, it plays really well and is an enjoyable game to pick up when I’m not in a great mood.

Most of you reading this probably know Missile Command already, but in case you don’t: missiles fly in from the top of the screen, and you have to blast them by setting off explosions in the sky and catching the “heads” of the missile trails in them. Clear out a wave and you get bonus points and the action accelerates. You lose when the six cities you’re supposed to be defending get nuked — an inevitability in a game like this, as Missile Command is at least in part a depiction of the futility of nuclear war.

I didn’t enjoy Missile Command a ton when I was younger — and I would have probably written the 2600 version off purely for being on the 2600 — but in more recent years I’ve come to really love this version, and it’s a great stress reliever, as well as something of a stress-causer at its higher levels!


So there you go. I’m not going to pretend these games will appeal to everyone these days — for some, they’re just too old to be enjoyable, either mechanically or in terms of presentation — but I’ve been drawing specific comfort from all of these just lately. So if you’ve found yourself in a similar position, consider returning to your roots and seeing what some of the very earliest games have to offer — you might just find yourself surprised.

What Strange Times We Live In

It’s been a peculiar time of late. The Big News at the time of writing is the fact that Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, has died. Opinions are violently polarised on this around the Internet, and I’m not here to start any fights or anything, but I will say that I err on the side of “mildly upset” about it.

The Queen, you see, was a sort of comfortingly familiar presence who had been there my whole life — more than any of the other Royals. Very little she did had any direct impact on my own life, and yet I still found her presence oddly reassuring. She was a constant pillar amid the swirling mists of change; a storm that only feels like it’s been building in intensity over the course of my entire life, until we reach today — a time when the whole world very much feels like it’s at breaking point.

The Queen was not someone I especially trusted, nor was she someone that I thought was doing a good job of “running the country” — as deliberately disconnected from politics as I have remained for most of my life, I was under no illusions as to whether or not the monarchy had any real power whatsoever. And yet somehow, whenever anyone complained about “our tax money supporting those royal spongers” or whatever the complaint du jour happened to be, I didn’t feel like I could get on board with it. Just like I don’t feel I can get on board with the people celebrating her passing now.

Because yes, there absolutely are people celebrating her passing, and even people wishing that she suffered. Not just weirdoes on the Internet, either — people who move in some of the same circles as I do, though thankfully not people I’d particularly call “friends” at this point, and especially not after some of the vitriol I’ve seen them spouting.

Regardless of your feelings on a public figure that has passed, it feels fundamentally disrespectful to spit on their grave in such a manner, particularly so soon after their passing. And honestly, as bleeding-heart as this might make me, I tend to extend this courtesy to the people that the world commonly regards as “evil” also. I didn’t whoop and holler and cheer when people like Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden died; I could celebrate the reaching of a milestone in a conflict or a victory for the supposed “good guys” without taking joy in the death of another human being.

And sure. There are plenty of criticisms one could level at the Queen — though I suspect in the majority of the cases she’s more the one who simply rubber-stamped any controversial decisions rather than actually “doing” things herself — but I cannot and will not think that, in any way, justifies some of the genuinely horrible things I’ve seen people saying over the course of the last couple of days.

The monarchy may be outdated, irrelevant, useless and a waste of money — but she was still our Queen, and a lot of us took an odd amount of pride in her, and drew comfort from her presence. I am, by no means, what you might call a royalist — I take precisely zero interest in what Harry, William and co are up to, for example — but I do feel an important part of our culture has taken that big step into becoming history rather than the present. And things are never quite going to be the same again.