I Beat A Game From 1994 Without Save States
Three weeks, forty-one attempts and one very sore thumb.
Three weeks, forty-one attempts and one very sore thumb.
Tiny canvas, big rules — and the mistake that turns your alien into a crab.
One flat-pack shelf, one spare monitor, one very loud joystick.
Memory cards, a notebook of passwords and one very stubborn cartridge.
Square waves, walking bass and five tracks that live in my head rent free.
A short history of the friendliest four pixels in gaming.
Scanlines were not a bug. Here is what the sharp screens took away.
One last pocket of coins, and what I will miss most about the noise.