#oneaday Day 23: Why The Steam Sale Is Less Fun Than It Used To Be

You know the cliché. Steam sale rolls around, everyone jokes about locking their credit cards up. Except I haven’t felt like that about a Steam sale for a very long time. And I think this stems from a broader and well-documented problem that Steam has today: the fact it has too much choice.

Having too much choice is pretty much the very definition of a “first world problem”, but at times like this it really does highlight how it’s something of an issue. What’s doubly sad is that this problem has come about at least partly as a result of attempting to sort out a completely different problem.

Years ago, Steam was still the leading PC digital storefront, but its catalogue was much smaller. This is because it was primarily the domain of big publishers. I don’t know the ins and outs of what it took to get a game on Steam back in those days, but I know that it was out of the question for a lot of smaller developers. The few “indie” titles that did make it onto the platform tended to be celebrated, because they were often doing something very different from the highly commercial publishers. It’s from those early indie titles that we got the first steps in the direction of the “art game” movement that is thriving today.

The Steam sale during those days was an exciting time, because more often than not it was an opportunity to pick up something you’d been thinking about for a long time at a knock-down price. And because the catalogue was still at a manageable size, it was easy to discover (or rediscover) games that you might want to grab. A simple browse of the homepage would almost always result in you picking up a virtual armful of games, then checking them all out for considerably less than the price of a single undiscounted new release.

Today, though? The front page is full of an overwhelming amount of choice, and clicking through to the various curated sections doesn’t help, because those are also full of an overwhelming amount of choice.

This is the result of Steam’s increasing permissiveness of small-scale and independent developers. It’s theoretically a good thing that now pretty much anyone can get their game on Steam rather than having to sell their work independently — which means getting eyes on their own independent website — but it also means that Steam’s catalogue is no longer at a manageable size, and hasn’t been for quite some time.

I say “theoretically” a good thing, because the problem with this is self-evident: if you flood the market with that much stuff, it becomes difficult to find anything but the most high-profile titles. And that’s got to be almost as bad for indies as not being able to publish on Steam at all.

And, as much as I was in favour of Steam allowing adults-only titles on the platform after many years of rather opaque policies in that regard — policies that developers, publishers and localisers still fall foul of at times, for reasons that often remain unexplained — it’s been disappointing to see the absolute torrent of low-effort porn games flooding the market. And with the advent of AI-generated art that will actually draw dicks and fannies, that’s only going to get worse.

It’s one of those situations where, like the obsession with following the trends I talked about yesterday, it’s difficult if not impossible to put the plug back in now the flood has happened. Steam now can’t just suddenly turn around and say “actually, we fucked up and inadvertently filled our entire store with garbage, please get out”. I mean, they can, but I feel like there would be significant challenges (and likely lawsuits) thrown their way if they were to do so.

This is one of the reasons I spend a lot more time browsing and using GOG.com these days. GOG.com arguably still has a bit of a curation problem, particularly since it stopped being about just “Good Old Games” (which is where it got its name from) but it’s nowhere near as bad as Steam is. In a GOG sale, I can usually find a few things that I’m interested in playing without too much difficulty, whereas when a Steam sale rolls around, I tend not to bother even looking unless there’s something specific I had in mind.

Just another example of the gradual enshittification of everything, I guess, and a reminder that the human race should probably never, ever have nice things.

Want to read my thoughts on various video games, visual novels and other popular culture things? Stop by MoeGamer.net, my site for all things fun where I am generally a lot more cheerful. And if you fancy watching some vids on classic games, drop by my YouTube channel.

#oneaday Day 21: Catching Up

Yes, I missed yesterday. I could have predicted that was going to happen, what with it being a Friday, and with Final Fantasy XIV’s new expansion Dawntrail launching into its “early access” period for those who preordered. So I’m catching up now, and another post for “today” later and we’ll be all square.

I could just not bother, because no-one but me cares how well I stick to the whole #oneaday thing, but it’s the principle of the thing. Last time around when I did this, I handled “missed” days like this and I don’t feel like it compromised the integrity of my run of daily blogging, so my own self-imposed rules still stand. So there.

Anyway. Final Fantasy XIV: Dawntrail seems good so far. I haven’t gotten into the new storyline as yet, because I thought for a change I’d dive into one of the two new jobs included: Pictomancer. For those unfamiliar with Final Fantasy XIV, new jobs introduced with an expansion tend to start ten levels lower than you need to be to start the new storyline, giving you ten levels to get to know your new job by playing dungeons and boss fights you’ve (presumably) already done on other jobs.

I’m actually quite grateful for having to go through this bit of levelling, because it gave me the opportunity to catch up on some sidequests I’d somehow missed on my run through Endwalker. I’ve played all the previous Final Fantasy XIV storylines by thoroughly progressing through all the available sidequests as they came up, but several groups of them apparently unlocked after I’d already passed by their respective areas. I’d held off completing them because it felt wasteful to do them and not get any experience points for them, and none of my other jobs were high enough level to take them on. So they’ve been used to get Pictomancer up to scratch.

Pictomancer seems like quite an interesting job. It’s a ranged magical DPS, which means you stand back from enemies and pelt them with “stuff”. The unique selling point of Pictomancer over something like Black Mage is that there are several sets of abilities you can use to pelt enemies with stuff. Firstly, there’s a sequence of chromatic/elemental spells that function as basic single-target or area-effect attacks, and these also show off the interface’s new ability to automatically switch icons in your hotbar rather than you having to map everything individually.

Secondly, Pictomancer unlocks access to three “Canvases” as it levels. One is for painting creatures, one is for painting weapons and the third is for painting landscapes. “Painting” is a fairly lengthy spell if cast in combat, but it’s instant outside of combat, so you can sort of “pre-load” yourself ahead of time if you’re thinking ahead.

The creature paintings can be unleashed as attack spells, and also contribute to a larger combined spell which can be cast once you’ve set off the previous creature paintings. For example, first you’ll paint a moogle’s pom, then set that off as a spell, then paint a pair of wings, and set that off as a spell. This then allows you to immediately set off a spell in which you fling a completed moogle at your enemies. As Pictomancer levels, it looks as if it gains the ability to paint more different creature parts, which trigger in sequence, so weaving that into your attacks is clearly going to be a key part of its strategy.

The weapon painting, meanwhile, can be set off in combat to trigger a status effect known as “Hammer Time”. While under the effect of Hammer Time, you can trigger a three-hit combo using a big hammer. This always hits a critical and direct hit, which means it does significantly more damage than most other abilities; the trade-off is that there’s quite a long cooldown before you can use it again, though higher level Pictomancers can store a couple of “charges” before having to wait.

The landscape painting, finally, initially acts as a simple damage buff, but at higher levels also makes an area on the floor which, while you stand in it, causes your spells to cast more quickly. This is very helpful for the chromatic/elemental spells, particularly if you use the Subtractive Palette ability to change them into more powerful but slower versions.

If this all sounds a bit complicated, I thought it would be overwhelming at first, but upon starting the new job you have a nice little instanced mini-quest to get to grips with things, and just experimenting with the job in various dungeons and boss fights means things soon become second nature. I’m sure someone is theorycrafting all the fun out of it as we speak, but for now, I’m enjoying just playing it how it “feels” right.

Right, that’s enough for yesterday. Time for dinner. Back later!

#oneaday Day 20: Old Habits Die Hard

Ah, old habits do indeed die hard. First time around that I was doing this #oneaday thing, I had the habit of leaving the daily post until the last minute, meaning I’d often have to think of something to write when my brain was just shutting down ready to go to bed. And indeed that has happened this evening — though I do at least have an explanation for it, even if it’s not necessarily a “good” one.

I was finishing off a game I was playing. I wanted to beat it before Final Fantasy XIV’s new expansion Dawntrail opened to Early Access tomorrow, and indeed I did. I’ll probably write something a bit more coherent about it over on MoeGamer soon, but since it’s fresh in my mind right now, I’ll say a few words about it here.

The game is called Interrogation: You Will Be Deceived, and it’s something I picked up in a previous GOG.com sale (it’s also on Steam) because I thought it looked interesting. After finishing Shantae and the Seven Sirens a few days ago, I wanted something else short that I could plough through before Dawntrail so, browsing through my shelves and digital libraries, I eventually settled on Interrogation, as I shall refer to it hereafter.

Interrogation, as the name suggests, is about questioning suspects. Specifically, you play the role of a detective leading a task force given the job of unmasking and destroying an organisation known as the Liberation Front. The Liberation Front are an anarchistic organisation with a seemingly incoherent ideology; in the early stages of the game they seem like relatively small fry, but as the game’s plot escalates it becomes clear that they’re well up for a bit of terrorism, so it’s your job to both deal with the consequences of when they succeed at that, and hopefully prevent too many further atrocities from taking place.

The game isn’t specific about the time frame in which it’s set, but it’s presented in a noir style, complete with the vast majority of the visuals being in black and white. It’s clear that we’re either in the modern day or the very near future, though, by virtue of some of the technology that is referenced throughout the game. And one of the most effective things about the game is how plausible it feels; its main talking points are things that people really talk about (which, naturally, led to some particularly fragile Steam reviewers crying about it having “too much politics”) and concerns that people actually have.

It’s a surprisingly nuanced take on the subject, full of shades of grey. The Liberation Front, while ideologically incoherent, have some good points, which is, of course, what makes them so dangerous when they’re willing to resort to violence. Likewise, placing the player in the role of “the authorities” presents you with some interesting moral quandaries as to how you might handle the situation most effectively. Indeed, from the outset of the game you’re given the opportunity to handle your interrogations in a variety of ways, including through building empathy or inciting fear in your suspects — and even resorting to “enhanced interrogation” (read: violence) if the situation would seem to demand it.

Interestingly, the game provides the opportunity to play in a number of different ways; indeed, in my playthrough I took a “Pacifist” trait early on, which meant that I was unable to use any of the violent options in exchange for some other benefits that have slipped my mind. So you don’t have to play the game as an absolute monster in the service of The Man. Indeed, you have the opportunity to position yourself as sympathetic to the Liberation Front as you progress, though partway through the game you will find yourself on the other side of the table facing down a particularly violent representative from Internal Affairs, so you’d better be ready to back up your actions with some good explanations.

The whole thing was very atmospheric and I enjoyed it a lot. Like I say, I’ll write more about it on MoeGamer very soon, but wanted to just pen some initial impressions before I hit the sack this evening. Now it’s nearly half past one in the morning (guess I’m not getting up early tomorrow!) so I’d better wrap this up. So this is me, doing that.

#oneaday Day 17: Abort, Retry, Fail?

Last night I once again spectacularly failed to get a good night’s sleep. I had trouble getting off to sleep in the first place, then my cat decided to be sick twice in the night — thankfully not on the bedsheets this time, but she managed to coat a significant portion of the bedroom floor in cat vomit. She’s fine, by the way; she just has a bit of a weak stomach and a tendency to wolf her food down. And once again I am grateful that most of our house has laminate floor rather than carpet.

Still, this unfortunately meant that getting out of bed at 7am to go for a swim felt out of the question. My body just refused to get up, and I didn’t think pushing myself on that little sleep would do me any favours, so I slept in a bit longer. I’m having an early night tonight, though, so hopefully tomorrow will come after an uninterrupted sleep. I can hope, anyway.

Aside from that, today was one of those mostly uneventful days where not a lot of note happened. So, what to talk about?

Later this week sees the launch of the Early Access period for Final Fantasy XIV’s new expansion Dawntrail. I’m looking forward to playing this, but I’m also a bit sad that my relationship with Final Fantasy XIV has changed so much since my initial enthusiasm for it. Back when it launched (and indeed before that, when I was playing in open beta) it was a delight to play alongside some people who eventually became close friends, but for various reasons — including my wife and I moving to a European server instead of the North American one we were playing on — I drifted away for quite some time, and it’s been difficult to get back into the same groove I once had.

Part of the reason for this is that I am very conscious that when I was “in the groove” with Final Fantasy XIV, I played it almost to the exclusion of everything else. While that was rewarding in its own way, it was also a little frustrating; I found it difficult to strike that perfect balance between enjoying Final Fantasy XIV often enough to keep the fires of friendship kindled with the people I liked to play alongside, and saying firmly to myself “no, tonight you are doing something else“.

Previously, I’ve attempted to set aside time for Final Fantasy XIV by saying a particular night of the week is “Final Fantasy XIV night” — in fact, I chronicled one such experiment of this sort here. That didn’t really work for me, though, because I’d often find that by the time I got to the evening in question, I didn’t really fancy playing Final Fantasy XIV, so instead ended up doing something else anyway.

Social anxiety has also entered the picture a fair bit. In line with what I talked about yesterday, whereas I was once a pretty confident Final Fantasy XIV player, I no longer feel that way. I feel uneasy about approaching strangers, talking to new people or asking for help. There are a few reasons for this.

Firstly is the fact that the community changed a bit over the course of the original A Realm Reborn run and onwards into Heavensward. We started to get the typical western players’ “efficiency at all cost” mindset taking hold, with people arguing that “the best way to play” was to spend half your time looking at spreadsheets and the other half exploiting the game structure to your own benefit. Not cheating as such, but definitely deliberately making the game less fun in the name of being more “efficient”. I got frustrated with that, and not being into playing that way put me very much in a minority — a minority that I certainly felt wasn’t listened to.

Secondly is just my own overall sense of unease with online interactions these days, which I talked about yesterday. While I once felt entirely comfortable “being myself” while playing Final Fantasy XIV, now I feel a lot more “guarded” and hesitant to initiate interactions. This is almost entirely a “me” problem rather than anything else, and it is something I can probably work on, but it’s a big part of why the game isn’t as fun as it used to be for me.

There are a few things I want to do in an attempt to recapture the past magic, but hopefully without the game taking over my life. In fact, I’ve already taken one major step; I’ve returned to the original server and Free Company (group of players) that I previously played with. I haven’t seen my past friends around as much as I’d like, nor have I had much chance to interact with them, but that’s something I can work on — particularly as I’ve always remained in that Free Company’s Discord server, even when I moved to the European game servers.

What I need to do is regain that confidence I once had. I need to get some practice in at playing and interacting with others — and really, there’s no other way to do that than to just jump back in and do it. So with Dawntrail, I’m going to try and be involved with things a bit more. Ahead of Early Access, I’m attempting to level another type of job (White Mage, a healer) on top of Samurai, the DPS job that took me through Stormblood, Shadowbringers and Endwalker. That way, I can have a bit more flexibility when it comes to group activities.

I have played as a tank in the past — for non-MMO aficionados, the “tank” is the de facto “leader” of a party who stands at the front and lets the monsters hit them while the other party members heal them and stab the monster in the back — but I haven’t quite got my confidence back up to that level. Tank anxiety is a very real thing, because in that quasi-leadership role, you control a lot of things — including if the party as a whole survives encounters.

There are a lot of things I need to work on if I want to recapture the same magic I once felt from this game. And I do want to try and feel some of that again; some of my favourite gaming moments and happiest times with friends were spent particularly throughout A Realm Reborn. I guess it remains to be seen if Dawntrail will feel the same way — or if I will end up playing through the main storyline (which I’m going to do regardless) and then setting the game aside.

We shall see!

#oneaday Day 16: The Youth of Yesterday

I’m compelled to write today by the thoroughly lovely Neil and Dave of the This Week in Retro podcast, who had a discussion about “the youth of today”, and how some parents are concerned that their children spend the vast majority of their time on an endless cycle of Fortnite, Roblox and Minecraft, perhaps punctuated by social media in between times. The show and its discussion can be found below:

People who grew up pre-Internet doubtless all have their own experiences to share. The listener who wrote in with the question described how while they did spend time with their computer playing games, they also played outside, rode their BMX bike and all manner of other things, while both Neil and Dave described their own experiences as being a bit different, both from one another and from the listener’s recollection. So I thought I’d share my own experiences, with the benefit of hindsight.

I grew up in a country village that, at the time I lived there, had somewhere between 800 and 1,000 people living there. It was seven miles away from the nearest town, there was no bus service unless you went to the next village over (and even then, it was pretty much a “once a week” sort of affair) and… I guess you could look upon it as either being ideal or terrible for growing up in. Ideal because it was quiet, safe and full of places to go on childish “adventures”; terrible because, particularly once I reached adolescence, all of my friends were a car journey away.

I went back and forth on my feelings about living in that village. When I was of primary school age, I attended the village school, and as such my social circle was pretty much all people who lived nearby. I had a small group of friends, only one or two of whom I actually went to see outside of school time, but mostly kept myself to myself. In retrospect, my relative lack of socialisation compared to some of my peers was likely down to the social anxiety I felt as a result of my then-undiagnosed autistic spectrum condition.

But at the time, I didn’t really begrudge living in the village. I knew it was a nice place, that I lived in a nice house with supportive parents and a stable home life. I enjoyed when my grandparents came to visit and we’d go for a walk, inevitably to landmarks around the village that had acquired nicknames; “The Kissing Gate” (one of those awkward gates into a farmer’s field), “The Brook” (a pathetic little stream that, these days, has mostly dried up and smells awful), “The Bullocks” (the farmer’s field beyond The Kissing Gate that sometimes, but not always, had bulls in it). Looking back on it now, I have lots of fond memories.

When I entered my teens and started attending school in the aforementioned town seven miles away, my feelings changed a bit. While I was still somewhat anxious about social situations, I started to feel a bit more left out. As I grew older, I started to feel like there were lots of things that I couldn’t do because I didn’t live close enough. These feelings persisted until I turned 17, passed my driving test and suddenly had a lot more independence… so long as my Mum didn’t mind me borrowing her car of an evening.

I promise I’m getting to the video games.

Point is, I don’t remember spending a lot of time as a kid or a teen “playing outside”. I didn’t learn to ride a bike until well after many of my peers — memorably, I suffered a rather large setback on my initial efforts when I came a cropper and skidded along a rough concrete farm road, shearing a significant chunk of skin off my legs and arms, which made me a little hesitant to try again for a while — and I didn’t spend much time with many of my peers, except on rare occasions when I’d go over to a friend’s house for one reason or another.

Throughout all that time, I was fascinated with computers. Not just games, but computers in general. I knew my Dad worked for IBM, but didn’t really know what he actually did (and still to this day don’t think I could actually tell you). I knew my brother and Dad both contributed to an Atari computer magazine that we got regularly known as Page 6. And I knew all of my family, at one point or another, were keen computer users for various reasons. My Dad used it for “serious” software and subLOGIC’s Flight Simulator II (which he insisted was “not a game” and was thus still counted under the “serious software” category”); my Mum liked the occasional blast on Millipede and Space Invaders; my brother was the one who was into games, though he had a much more active social life than I did, helped at least partly by being ten years my senior.

Since I determined quite early on that I rather enjoyed — or at least felt most comfortable — in solitude, I was grateful for the company of the computers of our household: initially the Atari 8-bit and ST, then later the MS-DOS and Windows 3.1/95/98 PCs. In the early days of the Atari 8-bit, I devoured books and magazines about the computer, typing in listings and learning how to program in BASIC myself. I never really got what I’d call good at it, but I developed a basic (no pun intended) competence that was greater than that of someone who just used their computer to play games.

But I also played games. A lot of games. I learned a lot from those games, too. Text adventures helped me with my reading (and, indirectly, my writing); keyboard-based games played a significant role in developing the typing skills I still have to this day; puzzle games helped me with my general intelligence and problem-solving; action games helped me develop my imagination and my motor skills.

It’s stereotypical to say that “games help with hand-eye coordination”, but I was diagnosed dyspraxic in primary school, which basically meant I was a bit clumsy with certain things; video games helped me feel like I was competent at something, even if I was unable to hold a pencil “properly”. Playing games, and more broadly “going on the computer”, was important to me. It felt like it was something I could enjoy without compromise; I didn’t feel like I had to make any sort of adjustments, or have people “go easy on me” as I did in activities like sports. It was just something for me to enjoy. And, as I moved into my teens and broadened my circle of friends at secondary school, they proved to be a good backdrop for social interactions, too.

More often than not, if I went over to a friend’s house or had a friend over to mine, we would spend our time playing games together, or at the very least just using the computer. I have fond memories of spending time with several friends just messing around with speech synthesis programs on the Atari ST and Amiga, and even programming in STOS, a dialect of BASIC for the Atari ST, or making silly in-joke games with Clickteam’s wonderful Klik and Play and The Games Factory. I was happy that my formerly solitary activity was something I could share my enjoyment of with others.

This continued as I came to the end of my time at school and moved into university. I made new friends, at least partly through computing and video games, and many of those folks are people I still make an effort to spend time with today — even if sometimes that effort doesn’t feel like it’s reciprocated with quite the same enthusiasm. Computing and gaming remained something that was important to me, even as the Internet came into its mainstream ascendancy in the late 1990s.

I have some fond memories of those early days of the Internet. Chatting with strangers on CompuServe’s “CB Simulator”, aka just a public chatroom. Posting messages on CompuServe’s GAMERS forum, which eventually let to me earning $200 for making ten Wolfenstein 3-D levels that were included in an official expansion pack. Chatting with my friends from my course on MSN Messenger. Randomly getting into a conversation with a young woman on AOL Instant Messenger, only to discover that, completely by chance, she was the housemate of one of my existing friends.

Computing was always there as part of my life, but I think a key difference between then and now is that in my formative years, it was there as a backdrop to socialisation, rather than the means of socialisation itself. The This Week in Retro listener commented that their children feel genuine anxiety and FOMO (“Fear Of Missing Out”) if they have gaming time privileges revoked for whatever reason, because rather than Fortnite, Roblox and Minecraft being the backdrop for their socialisation, those activities are the socialisation.

There’s also social media to take into account. I am genuinely glad that social media did not exist when I was a child, because I’m not sure I would have made it through my adolescence intact. Sure, there are positive aspects to it, such as being able to reconnect with people you haven’t spoken to for a long time, but there’s also the insidiously manipulative nature of all the major platforms today, and how none of them are really concerned with being a platform for communication; they are, instead, platforms for advertising.

The thing that really makes me feel like social media may well have done me in, though, is how easy it is for it to be used for bullying. I suffered a fairly significant amount of bullying throughout both my primary and secondary school life, and it was hell. It left me wary of trusting people; it made me frustrated about communicating with others; it made me feel like it was, at times, simply not worth making the effort to interact with people.

For a long time, I used to say that the Internet allowed me to “be myself” for the first time… well, ever, really. I could find like-minded people who understood me and respected me for who I was, and I felt like I was among friends. I don’t feel that way any more; nowadays, I feel the same way about online interactions as I do about interacting with real strangers: genuine anxiety and fear. I dread getting notifications in apps or on websites where I’ve posted something publicly. And yet, I still do it — here I am, after all — because I feel like it’s important to not let the bullies win, whether they’re real or imagined. I need to feel like I can still express myself the way I want to express myself; to enthuse about the things I want to enthuse about. That’s why I write here and on MoeGamer, and why I make videos over on my YouTube channel.

Even then, though, I feel a lot of frustration, because I know a significant portion of the world looks on the Internet, social media and general social interactions in a different way to me. That can often leave me feeling lonely and isolated. But the one thing I’ve always had as a constant is being able to immerse myself in a video game or other activity on the computer, and feel like I am, for once, at peace — even if, with each passing year, it feels like it’s getting harder to share that haven of peace with others.

That went a tad deeper than I perhaps thought, and I’m not sure I have an answer to the original poster’s questions or concerns. I do know, however, that spending time on the computer isn’t necessarily a bad thing in and of itself, particularly when it brings someone comfort and stability. It’s when that “safe” activity starts to get “unsafe” things encroaching on it that you need to perhaps take action — but that’s going to be something that is different for everyone. For me, it’s meant largely removing myself from the public-facing part of the Internet except in places where I can very much control and curate my experience, and continuing to enjoy those things that I always have enjoyed in peace and quiet. No video game ever betrayed me, after all.

#oneaday Day 11: Direct to You

I did not manage to get up early and go for a swim today, but I wasn’t really expecting myself to. Suddenly doing some exercise after a long period of… not doing that left me feeling a bit stiff (eyy) so I thought I would take today off and make an effort to go tomorrow. Easing into it and all that.

But that’s not what I want to talk about today. Today was the latest Nintendo Direct, a presentation that many have been assuming will be one of the last big shows Nintendo do while the Switch is still their current platform. The Switch’s as-yet unnamed successor has not yet been announced — and a clearly increasingly irritable Nintendo has been repeatedly pointing out that it has nothing to announce aside from the existence of a successor as yet — but it’s clear that the console is currently doing its victory lap ahead of graceful retirement.

That does not mean there’s nothing interesting coming for Switch, however! On the contrary, there were some really cool things showed at the Nintendo Direct, including some long-awaited news on Metroid Prime 4.

As always, the reaction to the show on the Internet has either been breathless enthusiasm or varying degrees of “well I never liked Nintendo anyway“, but taking as balanced a viewpoint as is possible from someone who likes the Switch and probably uses it as his primary gaming platform, I thought it was a good presentation. Nothing earth-shatteringly amazing, but lots of things that were good. And, to be honest, that’s absolutely fine.

A notable highlight from the show was definitely the new Zelda game, in which you get to play Zelda herself rather than Link. It adopts the same tilt-shifted toy-like style seen in the Link’s Awakening remake from a while back; it’s nice to see that applied to an all-original game rather than a remake.

One thing I’ve been puzzled by is the number of people who seem to just want “Zelda where you play as Zelda but she’s just swinging a sword around like Link”. This is not what we’re getting with Echoes of Wisdom, as the new game is known, and as far as I’m concerned that’s a great thing. Instead, we have the ability to capture “echoes” of objects and monsters in Zelda’s wand, then summon these for various purposes. I can see this potentially being a very interesting mechanic, and a factor which sets Echoes of Wisdom apart from other Zelda games. I’m mostly just glad we’re not getting another Breath of the Wild-style Zelda, though; Breath of the Wild was great and I’m sure Tears of the Kingdom is also, but Zelda is at its best when it’s being experimental, interesting and notably different from one entry to the next.

Outside of Zelda, I was also thrilled to see the announcement of Ace Attorney Investigations for Switch, including the first ever official localisation of Ace Attorney Investigations 2. I was particularly pleased to see the game features the option to play with new high-res sprites or the original pixel art; that’s a nice touch indeed, particularly as Ace Attorney Investigations has actual character sprites walking around as well as the animated busts seen in the rest of the series.

What else? Dragon Quest III HD-2D or whatever it’s called looks great. I’m all for Dragon Quest being remade and made more generally accessible. It’s curious that III appears to be coming out before I and II but I guess they had their reasons. I’m looking forward to giving it a go, and hoping that IV, V and VI get a similar treatment; I’m lucky enough to have copies of the DS versions (they’re pricy these days!) but I would like to play them on the big screen.

The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy looked very cool. I like the art style of the Danganronpa guy whose name I can never remember, and this looks like quite a different style of game. I dig it, but I’d like to see more of it.

The new project from Hironobu Sakaguchi and Nobuo Uematsu, aka the Final Fantasy grandaddies, looked a little underwhelming visually, but potentially mechanically interesting. I have faith that they can pull something cool out of the bag, based on their past post-Final Fantasy work together — The Last Story is a wonderful game, for instance.

Mario & Luigi getting a new entry in the form of Brothership is welcome news, even if I have never managed to get caught up on any of the Super Mario RPG-adjacent series. I do have a copy of the Super Mario RPG remake and Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door on Switch waiting for me to play, but it’ll be after Final Fantasy XIV’s new expansion Dawntrail before I get to those.

Metroid Prime 4 I’m excited to see on behalf of everyone else, even though my experience with Metroid pretty much starts and finishes with the excellent Super Metroid. I have the Wii version of Prime Trilogy to get to at some point, so I’ll have to make the time for that. I liked Super Metroid a lot, so it’s a series I’ve always been meaning to delve deeper into.

You know, the more I think about the Direct as a whole, the more I feel like it actually was a pretty strong one. I’m struggling to think of any games that were shown where I felt “ugh, this isn’t for me”. Sure, some certainly appeal more than others, but I’m pretty sure I could have some fun with absolutely everything that was shown off today. This is a good thing, and makes me feel like whenever the Switch’s successor is finally announced, the good ol’ Switch is still gonna be kicking for a while yet. And if Nintendo has any sense, said Switch successor will be backwards compatible. Here’s hoping; sometimes they have sense, sometimes they do not.

So yeah. They did a good. I’m looking forward to finding out more about all the games they showed — not just the ones I remembered to talk about here — and feel pretty confident Switch will continue to bring the hits for quite some time to come yet.

I bought a Sega Master System.

Now that I’ve stepped aside from the games press, I’ve resolved to myself to spend more time enjoying games just for the sake of enjoying them, not because I want to write about them or whatever. This doesn’t mean that I won’t write about them, of course — it just means that my priorities are not “get through as much shit as possible so I can write about something every week/day/hour”.

To that end, this week I’ve been spending some time with my retro systems, which have been going a bit unloved in their dedicated room upstairs for a little while. Yes, I have multiple emulation devices and complete ROM sets for everything up to Dreamcast on my PC downstairs, but there’s still something thoroughly pleasant about playing on original hardware.

In fact, in the case of systems like Nintendo 64, original hardware still provides a superior experience, since today’s N64 emulation still has a certain degree of jank about it — not to mention the fact that no modern controller quite feels like the N64’s weird three-pronged monstrosity.

One system I’ve been meaning to explore for a while is the Sega Master System. I’ve never owned one of these and don’t really know a whole lot about it — and as such, any time I’ve considered exploring the library of games for it that I have on my PC and emulation devices, I never really know where to start. Herein lies another benefit of playing with original hardware: rather than attempting to get everything, you can curate your own collection and discover new favourites one at a time rather than being overwhelmed by choice.

Anyway, my background with the Sega Master System is brief. Growing up, I only know one person who had one: someone I went to school with named Dale. Dale was a curious character in that he flip-flopped between being a cool guy to hang out with and someone I’d consider a friend, to full-on “school bully” status. And he’d do it without warning from day to day; I never quite knew what to make of him. He could burp like no-one else, though, and his mum was nice.

To my recollection, I only ever went over to Dale’s house once during my childhood, but while I was there we spent some time playing on his Sega Master System. I don’t think he had many games — the only one I remember playing was Alex Kidd in Miracle World — but I remember being quite taken with both the system and its games. And it’s sort of stuck in my head that I’d quite like to fiddle around with one ever since… only I’ve never gotten around to it for one reason or another.

Well, I’ve been chatting with some retro gaming YouTubers of late, and I finally got around to watching the work of one of them that I’d been meaning to check out for a while: Dudley of Yesterzine. Dudley’s “thing” on YouTube is taking an individual issue of an old games magazine, going through what it covered and diving deep into one or two of the games and features that were in that issue. It’s enjoyable viewing — plus attempting to anticipate the single “your mum” joke in each episode is always entertaining — but I digress.

The reason I bring up Dudley is that he’s a big fan of the Master System. He refers to it, only partly jokingly, as “history’s greatest console”, and knows a great deal about the system, its library of games and all manner of other things. And it was through seeing Dudley’s enthusiasm for the platform that I decided that now might as well be the time I jump on board the Sega Master System train. Particularly since he was kind enough to send me a couple of loose carts to get me started, even before I had anything to play them on.

I trawled eBay for a bit, looking specifically for a mk1 Master System, since that has an AV out port that allows it to be used with a nice SCART cable, and eventually came across a listing that had a Master System in good condition, one controller, the Phaser light gun and fifteen games, most of which were boxed and with manuals intact. It wasn’t cheap, but it also didn’t seem unreasonably priced, either. So I took the plunge, and it finally arrived today.

I’m thoroughly charmed with it so far. The selection of games I’ve acquired with the system cover a wide selection of bases — including three excellent Sonic titles — and I was delighted to discover that the specific model of Master System I have is the one with the built-in game “Snail Maze” rather than Sonic the Hedgehog or Hang-On. Nothing against either of those games, of course, but you can get them on cartridge; Snail Maze is a proper “exclusive” to that particular hardware revision.

Snail Maze, as a game built in to the ROM-based OS of an ’80s games console, is not a complicated affair — it’s literally just a maze game in which you have to beat the clock — but its simple existence gives the Master System a ton of character and personality. Hell, even the fact that the Master System has an OS that is visible to the end user, unlike any other non-computer console around at the time, makes it stand out — particularly with its friendly, helpful on-screen instructions that encourage you to “ENJOY!” if you switch on with no cartridge in the slot.

The games themselves, too, have a very distinctive feel to them. The Master System’s ability to colour the entire “border” of the screen (much like how the Atari 8-bit and ST could) rather than simply confining the action to a smaller window in the middle surrounded by inky blackness is immediately recognisable, and there’s definitely a recognisable Master System “look and feel” — and certainly no-one would mistake the SMS’ PSG sound chip for the NES’ custom APU. (This isn’t a slight against either of them, just an observation that they are noticeably distinct.)

The control pad is surprisingly tiny, being even smaller than an NES pad but similar in shape, and features possibly one of the worst directional pads ever to exist. It’s not unusable by any means, but its squishy nature means that it’s much, much too easy to accidentally push diagonals, particularly the downwards ones, and in certain games this can be absolutely disastrous if done at just the wrong moment.

The buttons are nice, though, and, squishiness aside, the controller is, on the whole, responsive. It’s a little odd there not being a dedicated “Start” button — the first action button is also regarded as “Start”, and pausing is achieved by pressing a button on the console itself, rather than the controller — but given most games are designed around the two-button limitation it’s not a huge issue.

I haven’t got deep into any of the games just yet, but some early favourites are “Commando, but feudal Japan”, aka The Ninja, and “legally distinct from Pole Position”, World Grand Prix. I also already know that the Master System Sonic games are excellent from when I’ve previously covered them, but it will be great to finally play them through on real hardware.

In terms of collecting, while it’s tempting to try and go for a “complete set”, particularly since the Master System’s total library is relatively small compared to other platforms, I don’t really have the room to store that. Some would argue I didn’t really have the room to start collecting for another console in the first place, but I can make it work.

Anyway, what I’m intending on doing is simply curating a moderately sized but well-formed collection of games that I will genuinely enjoy. I’m not going to lose sleep over the fact Phantasy Star is over a hundred quid — I have multiple other ways to play that — and nor am I going to lust after things that are expensive just for the sake of it; I can live without 8-bit Streets of Rage II if it’s going to be that absurdly priced.

Instead, I’m going to take the opportunity to nab the games that are affordable, and which I feel like I will genuinely enjoy, and then be content with that. And I’m going to take the time to enjoy them just for the sake of enjoying them. I might write or make a video about them at some point, I might not. Point is, it’s completely my decision as to whether or not to do that now — and I’m not going to put any pressure on myself in that regard.

Now, question is, what to add to the collection next…?

I’m coming to the end of an era, and I feel both relief and sadness.

This week is my last week as Editor of Rice Digital, and it’s also my last week as part of the modern games press. I’m not ruling out occasionally writing something either here or on MoeGamer based on things that I’ve particularly enjoyed and want to share, but after this Friday, that’s the end for me on regular commitments to Writing Stuff.

It’s a bittersweet moment, but it’s a step I’ve chosen to take — and yes, just to reassure you, this is entirely my decision — for a variety of reasons. Today I’d like to talk about them a bit in what will likely be a bit of a lengthy post. But I feel like I need to… express some things, even if no-one else actually reads them.

Before we go on, I’ll clarify that my time with Rice coming to a close is because I’m going all-in on a project I absolutely believe in: the Evercade project, which I’ve been involved with for some time now, and which, from next week, I will be a completely full-time, 100% dedicated member of.

Anyway. Let’s start with a bit of Pete backstory for the benefit of those who are newer acquaintances, or who don’t know my full background.

As a child of the ’80s, I was there for the beginning of home computing. Our family were relatively early adopters of home micros, quickly gathering beneath Atari’s standard and remaining loyal to them right up until it simply became more practical to make the switch to IBM compatible PCs.

I don’t actually know the exact reason my family chose to go with Atari, or the circumstances that led to us acquiring our first computer, an Atari 400, as they happened before I was aware of pretty much anything that was going on. By the time I had a vague amount of consciousness and sentience, though, computing was already an important part of our day-to-day life — and that continued.

The early days of home computer culture sounded like they were exciting to be a part of. My Dad and brother would often attend a local “computer club” — inevitably returning with armfuls of pirated software — and my brother had a (relatively) nearby friend who also had Atari computers and was more than willing to share his software with us.

My Dad had been a subscriber to a magazine called “Page 6” since its first issue. This began its life as a newsletter for a Birmingham-based Atari users’ group known as BUG (Birmingham User Group) but the folks working on it decided that they could potentially make something more of it. As such, from the very first issue, they did their best to create something that would be of broad interest to Atari users nationwide, not just in Birmingham.

Page 6 was a great source of information on our computers. It was filled with interesting articles, tutorials and even programs that you could type in and save to disk or cassette. It helped emphasise the fact that a home computer was more than just a games machine, and that in the right hands, it could be a powerful creative tool and a real benefit to the household.

Indeed it was; our Atari computers were always more than just glorified games consoles. We played games, yes, but every member of my family used them for a variety of other reasons, too. My parents used them to help manage the household. My mother used them for creative writing. My father used them for music production. My brother used them for digital art. We all used them to create charming banners and cards with Broderbund’s Print Shop software. And me? I did a bit of everything.

One day, my Dad became fascinated with a new piece of software he’d acquired: Flight Simulator II by subLOGIC. As a lifelong aviation enthusiast, my Dad was incredibly impressed by the seeming accuracy of Flight Simulator II — even despite the technological limitations of the Atari 8-bit — and found himself compelled to pen an article for Page 6 about it. As an enthusiast publication, Page 6 relied on contributions from its readership — and as a longstanding reader, my Dad felt a good means of giving something back would be to tell the rest of the Atari 8-bit community about this remarkable piece of software.

The article was published in the following issue — even getting a bit of cover space — and thus began a long relationship between our family and Page 6. My Dad would continue to contribute pretty much right up until the magazine finally folded in the late ’90s, and my brother would kick off what has, to date, been a long and incredibly successful career in games-related media and surrounding environs by writing reviews of Atari ST games.

As an impressionable child, I was, of course, fascinated by all this — to such a degree that I’d often type up my own reviews of games in AtariWriter on the Atari 8-bit, print them out on our Star SG-10 dot matrix printer, then file them away in a ring binder. My parents would even go so far as to “edit” them for me — a fact that I feel probably played a significant role in my own fastidiousness when editing others’ work today, as well as maintaining my own work to a set of high standards.

Eventually, when I was in my early teens, I finally got the opportunity I’d been waiting for: my Dad had negotiated with Page 6’s editor Les Ellingham (who, incidentally, had remained in charge of the magazine from its very first issue to its absolute final moments) and agreed to let me pen a couple of short pieces for the following issue. It was nothing major — half-page reviews of two budget rereleases from Psygnosis’ “Sizzlers” label — but the feeling I got when I finally saw my words in print was like nothing else.

Over the years, I contributed to a number of other publications, including PC Zone and the Official UK Nintendo Magazine. It never got any less magical to see my words on the page of a magazine you could buy on the newsstands — and back in those days, freelance writer rates were very generous indeed, it has to be said, particularly compared to the pittance offered by most websites today.

Things were changing, though. Internet connectivity was becoming more and more the norm for everyone, and websites were becoming more complex and interactive. One which my brother helped launch was known as 1up.com, and it showed the massive potential there was in building a publication that didn’t just have a passive “writer -> reader” relationship, but rather building a community where not only could the regular staff pen their expert opinions, but community members could also publish their own stuff and discuss it with one another.

It was through 1up.com and the community I found there that I started to find myself seeing a much broader gaming landscape. No longer did I feel constrained to only seek out the games that got good reviews from monthly magazines; discussing things with friends and sharing experiences together helped show me that sometimes it was much more interesting to explore the quirky, weird or flawed games that didn’t get much love from the press — or which passed by completely ignored, in some instances.

Magazines, which were already starting to die off by this point, still held an appeal for me — but this brave new online world seemed fascinating; it looked like a bright future was ahead for video games and the discussion surrounding them.

Over the years, though, something has gone horribly, horribly wrong. We’ve gone from a world where enthusiastic, specialist, knowledgeable writers share their well-informed thoughts about a variety of interesting games to one where outlets are unironically advertising for someone to oversee an AI churning out 200-250 articles per week just for the sake of having “content” on the site.

We’ve gone from a world where a “big release” remains relevant and interesting for months at a time, to one where a title that should be absolutely huge is forgotten about by the afternoon of release day.

And we’ve gone from a world where folks like to share their experiences in the hopes of convincing others to join them on a magical journey, to one where cynicism, bitterness and needlessly aggressive confrontation rules the roost.

Over the last decade or so in particular, I’ve done what I can to try and remain a positive force, celebrating the games that I’ve found particularly fascinating along the way, and especially when they’ve either got a raw deal from the mainstream press or been ignored completely.

I’ve done this both on a personal, passion project basis with MoeGamer, and professionally over at Rice. And I stand behind each and every thing I’ve written.

But I’m exhausted. You know why? Because it feels like no-one gives a shit. I tell people enthusiastically about a relatively unknown game I’ve enjoyed recently, and I’m greeted with silence at best, cynical or outright dismissive responses at worst. Hell, at the best of times I can’t even get the slightest reaction out of people who are supposedly my closest friends when I share something I’ve written.

This is, I don’t mind admitting, deeply saddening, particularly as someone who spent a significant portion of his life desperately wanting to be part of the games media; desperately wanting to be someone who helped chronicle this fascinating creative medium and celebrate its weird and wonderful creativity.

But when it seems that people would rather read SEO-optimised garbage like “Wordle Solution #756” or “How to Beat the K’ok Piz Shrine in The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom” than an in-depth analysis of how a narrative-centric game successfully delivers on the ambitious themes it attempts to tackle? It’s hard to drum up the motivation any more. I don’t feel that same pride I once did when I saw my work in print — because I know that these days anything I write is just destined to be lost in the never-ending online “content” noise.

“Content” is king. People don’t “read” any more, they “consume”. And part of the difference between those two verbs is the amount of attention you pay. If you’re reading, you’re actively engaging; you’re learning something; you take something away from it. If you’re consuming, you’re just skimming over something for the sake of it without really taking it in. It’s just another way to fill time, to make existence feel a little less meaningless.

It’s not just writing that this affects, either. Look at the shift towards short-form video that has been happening for the past few years. This is the result of people demanding more and more mindless content and less in the way of things that actually enrich their lives in some way.

People’s attention spans are so shot from garbage like TikTok these days that stand-up comedians are now posting their jokes as individual 2-5 minute YouTube videos rather than expecting people to sit through a 90-minute set. And longer videos are regarded as “good background noise” rather than something you might want to pay attention to.

I detest it. It makes me sad, not just for the folks who have, in the past, worked hard on producing quality creative works for people to enjoy, but also for the idea of “culture” in general. I feel like if we’re living in a world where a significant portion of the population would rather watch some “influencer” bellowing at the camera on TikTok than engage with a thought-provoking work of art, that we’ve gone terribly, terribly wrong somewhere along the line.

Perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps I’m missing something. Perhaps I’m old now, and I’m just having that same moment previous generations had when things like television and video games came along for the first time.

But as someone who has long believed in the validity of the video games medium as a legitimate form of art and a formidably flexible creative medium, I can’t help but feel like we’re going through a bit of a cultural dark age.

And, having spent so much time trying to resist that tide to seemingly little effect, I’m sure you won’t blame me for wanting to step back and just enjoy things for myself while, through my work, attempting to do good things for the medium in a somewhat different manner.

Christmas is the perfect time for comfy sims.

Those of you who have known me for a while will know that I have long been an advocate of the “comfy sim” — a specific type of video game where, generally speaking, the pressure is off and the emphasis is very much on simply enjoying the experience of doing something that you perhaps might not have the opportunity to do on a regular basis.

My appreciation for the comfy sim started right back in the days of the Atari 8-bit and Atari ST, when my Dad introduced me to subLOGIC’s Flight Simulator II, the precursor to what we know today as Microsoft Flight Simulator. There was no “point” to Flight Simulator II — to such a degree that my father refuses to refer to it as a “game” to this day — but there was something compelling about it. The experience of flying a plane, of going on adventures, of making use of supplementary material (books, in the case of FSII) to enhance the experience — all of it was a powerful stimulant to the imagination.

There were, of course, military flight simulators also, and I enjoyed those a lot too — particularly because many of them were considerably easier to fly than the hyper-realistic Flight Simulator II! They also tended to have much more of a “game-like” structure to them, in that you’d have objectives to complete, merits to earn, medals to acquire and all manner of other things. But at their heart, they were still pretty comfy experiences about imagining you were doing something that you don’t get the opportunity to do on a regular basis.

My comfy sims of preference today are SCS’ excellent Euro Truck Simulator 2 and American Truck Simulator. I’m hard-pressed to tell you which of them is my favourite, because they’re both excellent and have their own distinct appeal elements — but what I do know is that when I want to relax and just not really think about stuff for a while, driving a truck is one of the best things I can possibly do, particularly as I have a nice wheels and pedal setup that really helps with the sense of immersion.

For the unfamiliar, in ETS2 and ATS (as we shall refer to them hereafter), you begin life as an aspiring trucker who owns a run-down old garage in the city of your choice, but who doesn’t have a truck to their name. You begin your adventure by running “quick jobs” for local companies, who provide trucks and trailers for you, and pay any fees you might incur along the way such as road tolls and fuel costs. After a while, though, you’ll crave the freedom that owning your own truck provides — so you can either grind your way up to affording one out of your own pocket (which takes a while) or take out a loan with which to purchase a nice starter truck.

From there, the choice of what you want to do is up to you, within reason — remember that if you took out a loan to pay for your truck, you’ll need to repay that a bit at a time. But if you just want to cruise the roads exploring, you can do that; if you want to take jobs from the companies you stumble across, like a freelance trucker-for-hire, you can do that; if you want to systematically search out the most profitable opportunities in the local area, you can do that; if you want to buy your own trailer and pick up freight directly from the source, you can do that. As you progress, you can even buy and expand more garages, grow your fleet of trucks, expand your empire and be rolling in more money than you know what to do with.

The nice thing, though, is that ETS2 and ATS don’t put any pressure on you to do any of those things that you don’t want to. If the one thing you enjoy is simply driving around, do that — maybe taking the occasional job to cover your daily loan installments. If you enjoy the structured experience of taking jobs, you can focus entirely on that. If you enjoy the management aspect of attempting to build up your company and dominate the entire map with your business empire, you can do that. Or you can do a bit of everything.

There’s no “wrong” approach to ETS2 and ATS, and that’s the core of the comfy sim. It provides a framework and a playground in which you can have fun, but the exact details of that fun are left up to you. It is essentially an imaginative toy in software form — and sometimes it’s just what the doctor ordered.

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.