PC Gaming in the Mid-90's
Dec 7, 2019 10:16:22 GMT -5
Post by anayo on Dec 7, 2019 10:16:22 GMT -5
My console gaming setup has generally stayed a half generation behind the latest and greatest. But there was one area of gaming where I got to play brand new cutting edge games as soon as they came out. That area was PC gaming in the mid-90’s.
The 90’s was a decade which was half digital, half analog. For example in the 90’s it was still commonplace to look up your neighbors’ number in the phone book. Only rich people had cell phones. People would still base their schedules around when their favorite TV show was broadcast over the airwaves. I even remember adjusting the antenna on the TV to get a clear picture.
My toys growing up were in keeping with this. Some analog toys from then, like Lego, are still around today. Others I’m not so sure about. I doubt kids in 2019 play with Viewmaster (a set of plastic googles containing a rotating wheel fitted with stereoscopic photos of cartoon characters and zoo animals). I also doubt if kids in 2019 would be enthralled by board games like Monopoly or Sorry, especially not when it’s common to see toddlers in 2019 toting around their own iPads.
Anyway, the reason for dredging up these random details is that it took way less computing power to wow people 25 years ago. In episode 2 of Duke Nukem 3D, Duke is on a space station. If you look out the window, you can see a space ship flying in the distance. The ship is a boxy, angular cardboard sculpture, flying at sharp, ungraceful angles dictated by math equations. But in my recent play through I knew this would have been breathtaking for a gamer in 1996. Someone back then would have looked at that space ship out the window and remarked, “Holy crap, this game is so detailed.” But in 2019 people would likely just scoff at it.
With that in mind, when I would watch my Dad play games on his PC as a small kid, perched nearby while he roamed corridors in Doom or killed Nazis in Wolf 3D, what I was seeing utterly enthralled me. This spectacle I was seeing was very, very different from anything my other toys could do. Later I got a Gameboy, NES, and Sega Genesis, and I enjoyed all of these, but the games on PC were still far more advanced. The conversations between my Dad and I would go something like this:
Me: “Can I play now?”
Dad: “No.”
Me: “How about now?”
Dad: “No.”
Me: “Now?”
Dad: sigh “OK”
At school I would draw pictures of Doom, doing my best to depict a first-person perspective with my limited artistic ability. There was one scene from Duke 3D that particularly impressed on me. In episode 1, you can flip a switch, revealing a light-up sign on the side of a building which reads, “DUKE NUKEM MUST DIE.” One afternoon at day care I wanted to draw this scene, but didn’t know how to spell the message on the sign. So I asked one of the daycare employees, “Hey, Ms. So-and-So, how do you spell ‘nuke em’?” She gave me a disapproving look and said, “I’m not telling you how to spell that.”
In episode 1 of Duke 3D, there’s a busty maid in a sports bar. If you press the action button next to her, Duke will say “Shake it baby.” and she’ll lift her skirt and dance. This is probably a little messed up but as a 6 year old I played Duke 3D without the parental lock turned on. I also had no idea what I was seeing. I didn’t have the faintest notion that this scene was supposed to be lewd. I just thought it was cool that the game had NPCs you could interact with, so I showed the scene to my Dad. He turned white as a sheet and said, “You’re not playing this anymore.”
Later, I crept into Dad’s room, booted up his computer, and somehow figured out how to launch Duke 3D from MS-DOS’s command line interface. I’m incredulous I was able to do this as a first grader. But apparently I wasn’t that clever because when my Dad got home from work I looked down at him from atop the staircase and said, “Guess what?”
Dad said, “What?”
I said in a sing-song cadence, “I’m playing Duke Nukem.”
A storm cloud appeared over Dad’s head and he marched up the stairs.
“What?” I said.
“What do you think?” Dad said.
The next time I tried booting the computer while Dad wasn’t around, it was password protected. I made a few attempts to brute force it but was unsuccessful. Later, Dad figured out how to enable “kid-friendly” mode so I could keep playing without being exposed to lewdness. I don’t think he wanted to deprive me of a game I enjoyed playing, I’m pretty sure he just being protective.
At first my dad only had the shareware version of Duke 3D. The shareware version curtailed the levels, enemies, and weapons, but also teased content from the full version, letting you see it but not actually play with it. I really wanted to use the “freeze thrower”, a weapon which chilled enemies into ice sculptures you could kick and shatter. I also really wanted to fight the obese blob alien with rocket launchers for arms floating in an anti-gravity wheelchair. There was a teaser screen showing him in a level from the full version and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Finally, my Dad got the full version. I was probably a bootleg copy from a coworker. But it felt so cool to finally play all those parts I couldn’t reach before.
There’s a few things about this chapter of my gaming history to unpack. Firstly, at that age I saw my Dad as this all-knowing, infallible being. I wasn’t yet at an age where I felt strongly about being my own person or any of the contrarian attitudes that tend to characterize adolescence. So when my Dad thought something was cool, I thought it was cool, too. My enduring fondness for these games probably has at least something to do with that time of my life, not the software itself.
For me, PC gaming in the 90’s was full of anticipation, such as a kid’s overblown perception of time, the anticipation of withheld content, and a complete dependence on Mom and Dad, making it impossible for me to go out and get that content myself. This probably lead me to view MS-DOS and Windows ’95/’98 era games as lofty treasures that were hard to reach. Later as a teenager in 2004 my parents got me a Pentium IV PC with Windows XP. I had unfettered access to this PC in my bedroom. I no longer had to beg my Dad to buy and install new software. This might be why I don’t have such magical feelings for Windows XP now, but I revere the earlier versions of Windows, right down to stupid details like how the GUI looks, the start up sounds, or the fact that you have to play games at 320x240 resolution or else the frame rate will tank.
I think nostalgia in retro gaming has a lot to do with the memories this old software evokes about where we were at in our lives when it came out. Additionally, when something used to be desirous and unattainable, it can make one obsessed with something, even when current technology, tastes, and sensibilities has long since moved on.
The 90’s was a decade which was half digital, half analog. For example in the 90’s it was still commonplace to look up your neighbors’ number in the phone book. Only rich people had cell phones. People would still base their schedules around when their favorite TV show was broadcast over the airwaves. I even remember adjusting the antenna on the TV to get a clear picture.
My toys growing up were in keeping with this. Some analog toys from then, like Lego, are still around today. Others I’m not so sure about. I doubt kids in 2019 play with Viewmaster (a set of plastic googles containing a rotating wheel fitted with stereoscopic photos of cartoon characters and zoo animals). I also doubt if kids in 2019 would be enthralled by board games like Monopoly or Sorry, especially not when it’s common to see toddlers in 2019 toting around their own iPads.
Anyway, the reason for dredging up these random details is that it took way less computing power to wow people 25 years ago. In episode 2 of Duke Nukem 3D, Duke is on a space station. If you look out the window, you can see a space ship flying in the distance. The ship is a boxy, angular cardboard sculpture, flying at sharp, ungraceful angles dictated by math equations. But in my recent play through I knew this would have been breathtaking for a gamer in 1996. Someone back then would have looked at that space ship out the window and remarked, “Holy crap, this game is so detailed.” But in 2019 people would likely just scoff at it.
With that in mind, when I would watch my Dad play games on his PC as a small kid, perched nearby while he roamed corridors in Doom or killed Nazis in Wolf 3D, what I was seeing utterly enthralled me. This spectacle I was seeing was very, very different from anything my other toys could do. Later I got a Gameboy, NES, and Sega Genesis, and I enjoyed all of these, but the games on PC were still far more advanced. The conversations between my Dad and I would go something like this:
Me: “Can I play now?”
Dad: “No.”
Me: “How about now?”
Dad: “No.”
Me: “Now?”
Dad: sigh “OK”
At school I would draw pictures of Doom, doing my best to depict a first-person perspective with my limited artistic ability. There was one scene from Duke 3D that particularly impressed on me. In episode 1, you can flip a switch, revealing a light-up sign on the side of a building which reads, “DUKE NUKEM MUST DIE.” One afternoon at day care I wanted to draw this scene, but didn’t know how to spell the message on the sign. So I asked one of the daycare employees, “Hey, Ms. So-and-So, how do you spell ‘nuke em’?” She gave me a disapproving look and said, “I’m not telling you how to spell that.”
In episode 1 of Duke 3D, there’s a busty maid in a sports bar. If you press the action button next to her, Duke will say “Shake it baby.” and she’ll lift her skirt and dance. This is probably a little messed up but as a 6 year old I played Duke 3D without the parental lock turned on. I also had no idea what I was seeing. I didn’t have the faintest notion that this scene was supposed to be lewd. I just thought it was cool that the game had NPCs you could interact with, so I showed the scene to my Dad. He turned white as a sheet and said, “You’re not playing this anymore.”
Later, I crept into Dad’s room, booted up his computer, and somehow figured out how to launch Duke 3D from MS-DOS’s command line interface. I’m incredulous I was able to do this as a first grader. But apparently I wasn’t that clever because when my Dad got home from work I looked down at him from atop the staircase and said, “Guess what?”
Dad said, “What?”
I said in a sing-song cadence, “I’m playing Duke Nukem.”
A storm cloud appeared over Dad’s head and he marched up the stairs.
“What?” I said.
“What do you think?” Dad said.
The next time I tried booting the computer while Dad wasn’t around, it was password protected. I made a few attempts to brute force it but was unsuccessful. Later, Dad figured out how to enable “kid-friendly” mode so I could keep playing without being exposed to lewdness. I don’t think he wanted to deprive me of a game I enjoyed playing, I’m pretty sure he just being protective.
At first my dad only had the shareware version of Duke 3D. The shareware version curtailed the levels, enemies, and weapons, but also teased content from the full version, letting you see it but not actually play with it. I really wanted to use the “freeze thrower”, a weapon which chilled enemies into ice sculptures you could kick and shatter. I also really wanted to fight the obese blob alien with rocket launchers for arms floating in an anti-gravity wheelchair. There was a teaser screen showing him in a level from the full version and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Finally, my Dad got the full version. I was probably a bootleg copy from a coworker. But it felt so cool to finally play all those parts I couldn’t reach before.
There’s a few things about this chapter of my gaming history to unpack. Firstly, at that age I saw my Dad as this all-knowing, infallible being. I wasn’t yet at an age where I felt strongly about being my own person or any of the contrarian attitudes that tend to characterize adolescence. So when my Dad thought something was cool, I thought it was cool, too. My enduring fondness for these games probably has at least something to do with that time of my life, not the software itself.
For me, PC gaming in the 90’s was full of anticipation, such as a kid’s overblown perception of time, the anticipation of withheld content, and a complete dependence on Mom and Dad, making it impossible for me to go out and get that content myself. This probably lead me to view MS-DOS and Windows ’95/’98 era games as lofty treasures that were hard to reach. Later as a teenager in 2004 my parents got me a Pentium IV PC with Windows XP. I had unfettered access to this PC in my bedroom. I no longer had to beg my Dad to buy and install new software. This might be why I don’t have such magical feelings for Windows XP now, but I revere the earlier versions of Windows, right down to stupid details like how the GUI looks, the start up sounds, or the fact that you have to play games at 320x240 resolution or else the frame rate will tank.
I think nostalgia in retro gaming has a lot to do with the memories this old software evokes about where we were at in our lives when it came out. Additionally, when something used to be desirous and unattainable, it can make one obsessed with something, even when current technology, tastes, and sensibilities has long since moved on.
