Oh yes, my friends, the iPhone can run Windows 95. Sure, it’s not as easy as downloading it from the App Store or anything, but still, you’ve gotta give mad props to a dev who can work this kind of magic on a jailbroken iPhone. Check out the video above for a glimpse of both the past and the future. Hold us.
If you’re of a certain age, you undoubtedly grew up watching the educational Schoolhouse Rock cartoons in between episodes of Laff-a-Lympics and Scooby Doo. Their catchy tunes and colorful animation actually made learning math, punctuation, politics, etc. fun. If you’re one to get all misty-eyed at the mention of “Conjunction Junction” (raising hand), here’s a set of 5 cool Schoolhouse Rock magnets to keep the nostalgia alive. A very cool 70s collectible guaranteed to elicit smiles…and singing. Available for $11 USD. Want to own the cartoons themselves? Check out Amazon.
Read More | Perpetual Kid
We just can’t stop! We’ve already told you about such NES swag as the wallet, CD case and even ladies jewelry. Now comes what might be the most fun incarnation: candy! Enjoy gummy Nintendo characters in a Game Boy Advance “console”, which by the way, is available in 8 different “game titles”. There’s also mints in an NES controller tin and sour candies in a Super Mario 1UP mushroom. All the containers are re-usable, in fact the NES tin holds 12 Nintendo DS cartridges. Talk about synergy! Available for $3-$3.50 USD.
Read More | Fractal Spin
Nostalgic about video games of yore? Strap on your Pac-Man Belt as we tell you about the bi-fold Nintendo Wallet, made of distressed leather, which holds all your credits card, ID and what little cash you have left after buying your Nintendo Wii. The cool thing? The wallet not only looks like an NES controller, it even comes in a tin case shaped like a game cartridge! A great way to get your geek on—with style. Available for $30 USD.
Gamers of a certain age, if given half a chance, will gladly recount grand tales of smoky rooms, dimly lit by a few dozen cathode rays where the only sounds are the white noise of competing digitized soundtracks, crude speech sythesizers, blips and bells, pings and whistles and artificial arpeggios rolling down an electronic scale.
The misty sincerity of those gamers who cut their teeth on the quarter-munching cabinets of Space Invaders, Asteroids, Missile Command and Sinistar is almost enough to make one forget what a mess the modern arcade equivalent has become. The gargantuan interface machines with their elaborate weapon approximations and physical demands juxtapose over a likewise spectacular price per play resulting in a hollow shell of what the old guard knew so well. These are not arcades as exist in those guarded memories, they are interactive entertainment experiences: The kind of branded, marginalized speciality device that has been focus tested and trade-show marketed to get the premium floor space right out front in view of the mall concourse is showpiece here.
Even those arcade machines which can still accurately be described as video games compete for the higher-yield ticket-generating skill games (which ironically involve very little skill). Most of those who recall the days when 3D graphics referred to the vector lines of Tempest pass by these modern emporiums. Perhaps they shake their heads a little or make a disparaging comment. Kids these days. Get off my lawn. They don’t enter; inside is only heartbreak.
Perhaps what hurts the most is that it is a heartbreak we chose. We have no one to blame but ourselves, for while the arcade as it was may be dead, ultimately it is us who killed it.
We wanted the more valuable entertainment experience. We asked for and then demanded a perfect replica of our arcade favorites that we could play at home from the comfort of our couches. We pressed for more arcade-quality graphics on our home consoles until our set top boxes had visuals that outpaced anything showcased on a standalone machine. We asked for, and received, greater narrative depth in our games and as a casualty for our insistence we killed the arcade—the very entity we now mourn.
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