Here’s some lighter news to help all you players out there settle back into the work week grind.

Our fellow stalwart champions of old-school gaming over at Nerdballoon have recently started a little something called “Project D”, in which older, more experienced gamers sit down with their youngling counterparts to try and beat some appreciation of classic digital entertainment into their media-corrupted minds.  This of course can only lead to tragedy.

Episode 1 – has just been uploaded, in which we get to hear a slightly less than open-minded 11-year-old attempt to survive a session of Contra.  Surprisingly, the graphics “suck”, and the game is not as approachable as “Halo 3 and Call of Duty: World at War”.  Oh, and I almost forgot, the music is “boring”.

Bottom line, this is an intriuging concept, and I long to see how today’s gamers deal with things like merciless halfway points, one-hit kills, and all other variety of challenges from the 8-bit era.  Please find the link  and video after the break.

Project D: Episode 1 [via Nerdballon]

Universal has won a four-studio bidding war and secured the rights to adapt the classic video game Asteroids into a feature film. Yep, that’s right. Hollywood is fighting over this, ladies and gentleman. Fighting over a game that looks like this:

Can't you just see Brad Pitt as the triangle?

Did they really need the actual rights to a game franchise from 1979 to make a movie about busting rocks in space? Is this not essentially the second and third act of Armageddon? I realize Hollywood and video games have an interesting, parasitic relationship where big stacks of money change hands, and fans pull their hair out in gigantic clumps, but who is clamoring for an Asteroids movie exactly? Does anyone even care?

Hey Dave, now here’s a Symposium topic for you: Video Game Franchises That Should Never Be Turned Into Movies. I leave it to you to find a way to work Screech or Zack Morris into that, you glorious bastard.

(via /film)

Click here to read the review, and feel free to give me a belated hazing in the comments below.

Aww yeah.

Consider the light zapper. No, seriously, think about it. For many children, the most amazing part of the original Nintendo Entertainment System was the NES Zapper, a silver-gray (quickly replaced with hunting orange) handheld pistol that allowed us to hunt ducks in our living room. It made an entire generation of boys and girls want to murder a snickering dog. It even made a gigantic, satisfying CLANG noise when you pulled the trigger. It had springs. Springs meant quality.

We’re spoiled today by our Wii remotes and our Natal technology (or we will be soon). It was a gun that shot light! Or at least that was what we were lead to believe. So there weren’t many game developers that opted to design games for it, or for the Light Phaser for the Sega Master System (my personal gun of choice because they modeled it off an obscure Japanese anime). These were novelties at best–a clever use of cathode-ray technology that to this day I still can’t quite understand (magic, I assume).

PEW PEW PEW

Then, for a few years, nothing happened. Until Nintendo decided to up the ante, bazooka-style.

This device made no sense.

Enter the Super Scope. And this is really the point of this article, if there even is one (a conversation my editor and I will no doubt be having shortly). The Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) was replaced with the Super Nintendo Entertainment System (SNES). It is a better system, because it has the word “super” prominently attached. In this same manner of thinking, the Super Scope is better than the Zapper, because it has the word “super” in front of it. Also, it is six feet long. And you can kill a man with it. And it eats batteries. And you have to hold it like a five year-old holds a pool cue.

Is this how you use the Super Scope? NO ONE KNOWS

There was nothing super about the Super Scope. Why did Nintendo think the way to go was to develop a light gun so large, cumbersome and gigantic that it required a shoulder mount to wield? This is progress? You could use the old Zappers to rob banks. They were gun-shaped. They made excellent Halloween costume additions. The build quality was such that, even today, you still see them about, like elderly nerd trophies. The only thing you could do with the Super Scope is place it in the live-action Super Mario Bros. movie. Nobody wants a rocket-propelled grenade light zapper. It’s creepy.

As for Sega, their foray was a bit more sensible, but not by much. The Menacer had an admittedly cool name, but had even weaker third party developer support, and included a game called Ready, Aim Tomatoes!, distilling a fantastic Sega franchise (Toe Jam & Earl) down to its most base element–throwing tomatoes–thereby ruining it forever. You could detach the ugly and unnecessary shoulder stock and wield it like a proper pistol, but the gun had the shooting accuracy of a drunken wino.

This device made slightly more sense.

Seriously. Who looked at the Zapper and said, “Hey, I can do that, except I’ll make it six times as heavy, four times as long, make it shoulder-mounted and have it run on twenty-six batteries per day!” Darwin would be very irritated by this person and their design philosophies. Ironic then that the only place the Super Scope remains a viable peripheral is in the world of the Smash Bros., where the gun (if charged) can wallop some people. And amusingly, not even the characters in the game know exactly how to hold it.

Eh, close enough.

Do you have any fond memories of zapping things as a child? Share them. Come on. Please help me justify this article.

Everyone loves the NES.  If you don’t, you’re a communist and R.O.B. the Robot will physically abuse while you sleep.  Lots of classic games to point to and slather with fanboy love, too: Mario, Metroid, Zelda, Super Dodge Ball, River City Ransom, Little Nemo etc.

But how about those games that may have only appealed to you way back when?  The under-appreciated losers of the bunch?

Dave:  Our parents were insistent on not buying us a Nintendo for fear that we would stay inside all day and rot our brains (and I have the silky smooth jump shot to prove it).

To get my fix I had to go over other people’s houses to play.  The best scheme I had going was to finagle a babysitting job at my neighbors.  Granted I only got paid two dollars an hour (!), but the fringe benefit–all-I-can-play NES–was priceless.

One of the games that I played constantly, and, beat, was a side-scrollnig actioner called Astyanax.  I remember very little about the plot except that you were a scantily-clad knight with a large sword and you were attacked by various floating bad guys and geometrical shapes.

A quick survey of the game on the Internet reveals that it was far from the greatest respected titled, but man did I love it.  And beating the game–my first ever NES completion–was a thrill.  Putting out the grease fire started by the kids I was supposed to be watching instead of screwing around with video games was also a thrill.

"Anyone else feel a draft?"

Adam: The answer to this question is River City Ransom. It is the greatest game ever created. Dave will be mad because he listed it as a game worthy of fanboy love, and Jon will fistfight me for beating him to this, because it’s his user icon, but I care not. The correct and just thing to do is to tell the world about how good this game is. Obscurity be damned! EVERYONE MUST KNOW.

BARF!

For the uninitiated, River City Ransom was Double Dragon by way of Super Dodge Ball and Dragon Warrior. For reasons unknown, Ryan’s girlfriend Cyndi has been kidnapped and held hostage in the high school by gang leader “Slick”. That is his name, so you know he is bad news. Ryan and his friend Alex take off across town, battling through lesser gangs to reach River City High and save the girl. Along the way, they take unnecessary steam baths, eat things they never should eat, and visit magic shops hidden under bridge overpasses.

The combat system was fun, punctuated by the hilarious calls of vanquished foes who would spontaneously run from combat, only to return with brass knuckles or rocks to bash your face in. The game was hard, and complicated by the unexplained RPG elements. Each foe dropped obnoxiously large coins that bounced up and down, taunting you to pick them up. The money is exchanged in town for goods and services that are totally unexplained as to their function, increasing stats that don’t seem to have any bearing on your ability to beat people up. If you died, you ended up back in the last village you visited, with your pockets rifled. With no lives system to speak of, you were free to beat your way through the crowds again, but every death made it harder and harder to recoup your finances and your wasted stamina and energy levels.

THE SMILES DO NOTHING. NOTHING!

Seriously, best Nintendo game ever. There was a Game Boy Advanced port, River City Ransom EX that updated the graphics and tweaked the combat system, and it’s quite lovely in of its own right, but nothing beats the original version. I can sing the songs in my sleep.

Adam: Okay, okay. Apparently when Dave says OBSCURE, he means. You know. Obscure. The BEST GAME EVER MADE doesn’t qualify. So I offer up a different title for consumption.

Spy vs. Spy. Quite possibly the best thing ever to spring out of Mad Magazine. The NES version of this game was a confusing, convoluted affair of wandering through an embassy, laying dangerous (and hilarious) traps for your opposite-colored opponent, who was also wandering around the same embassy doing the same. Every room you wandered in was a potential hazard, because not only do you have to be cautious every time you examine any object, but you also have to be clever enough to remember if you loaded that safe with dynamite.

You want that briefcase.

The controls were lousy, the graphics were terrible, the gameplay was confusing to the point of being nonsensical, yet there was a genuine sense of danger and dread playing with a live opponent, of walking into a room and wondering if you were about to get a bucket of water to the head. Which, you know, kills you.

Erich: I’m with Adam. In what world does Little Nemo: The Dream Master count as an NES powerhouse? I have a feeling Dave tacked it onto the end of his list so I wouldn’t talk about it (funny he didn’t add Battletoads). Alright, Mr. Johnson, I’ll bite and pick another game. Hmmm…. Obscure, eh? Well, though I wouldn’t say I liked it, I spent a Godly amount of time one early ’90s summer playing Bible Adventures, an unlicensed Christian title from Wisdom Tree Games.

David as you've never seen him before! (and hopefully never will again)

A little backstory: I spent that summer working at a camp as a babysitter for the Program Director’s 4-year-old son. It wasn’t a glamorous job, and it didn’t pay well, but considering I wasn’t legally allowed to have a job yet, it was pretty good (in fact, I used the money I earned for that couple months’ work—something like $200 total—to buy my NES and a copy of Mega Man 2). Anyway, I had a lot of child-watching hours to fill and not a ton of experience, so I relied heavily on the fact that this kid had a Nintendo. After a few hours playing Super Mario Bros., I’d switch things up and pop in Bible Adventures, one of two other games he had (the other was Black Bass… also obscure, and also lame).

Little known Bible fact: Noah could bench press two of every animal

For the uninitiated (read: cool kids), Adventures consists of three short Bible-themed games: a Noah’s Ark game where you have to stun, pick up, and carry animals into the Ark; a David and Goliath platformer; and “Baby Moses” (another carrying game), wherein Miriam tries to save her baby brother from the murderous Pharaoh by toting him to the end of each level. The controls were awful and the games were pale shadows of much better NES titles, but it was the easiest way to keep my young charge entertained. (By the way, you can tell I was a good babysitter because the kid’s parents actually had to tell me that I needed to take him outside to play more instead of sitting him in front of the TV all summer. I guess you get what you pay for.) So, there you go Dave. You wouldn’t let me talk about Little Nemo, so this is what you get. I hope you’re happy.

Moses supposes his toeses are poorly rendered 8-bit sprites