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by Colby Cosh A lost art
revived YOU could talk for hours with Grande
Prairie’s Dwayne Richard and never realize he is spoken of, in some
circles, with the hushed tones reserved for a Wayne Gretzky or a Michael
Jordan. In “real life” he is trying to finish a Regent College master’s
degree so he can study theology in Edinburgh. But during the summer he
turns to a less lofty pursuit: classic video games like Ms. Pac-Man and
Donkey Kong Jr. On June 6 Mr. Richard became the Classic Video Game World
Champion for the second straight year at a competition in Weirs Beach, New
Hampshire. At the age of 13, young Dwayne played Pac-Man for the first time and
discovered his gift. He became a wunderkind, able to figure out a new game
in minutes. For a brief moment when video arcades started up in the 1980s,
people like Dwayne became stars, invited to national and international
competitions. (In 1985, he even appeared on Entertainment Tonight.)
An informal network of gamers developed as teens rang up massive phone
bills, calling friends in Florida and California to get tips or boast
about scores. “The classic video games were a social experience; the community was
the thing that made them,” says Mr. Richard. For the children of the Cold
War, he says, “games like Pac-Man represented an escape from reality, but
what strikes you looking back is how much they mirrored reality. In a safe
environment, you could struggle against ‘Space Invaders’ or ‘Galaxians’
wielding these futuristic weapons of mass destruction.” And when you
logged a high score, you had, of course, “beaten the machine.” “It almost
has a tribal, ritualistic quality about it, where the medicine man comes
to exorcise the evil spirit.” But by 1990, home consoles had become all the rage, and the arcade
business had begun a long, slow decline. Recently, however, they made the
ever-mysterious transition from “old junk” to “antiques.” Last year, an
arcade called the Funspot in Weirs Beach held the first world championship
of classic video gaming. Dozens of old-time gamers came to display
long-unused skills at Mappy or Dig Dug. Mr. Richard won the overall title
in a titanic battle with American arch-rival Donald Hayes. This year, Mr.
Hayes opened up a large lead over Mr. Richard with just a few hours left
to go. It seemed certain a new champion would be crowned. But Mr. Richard
had tricks left up his sleeve. “I knew I’d have to get a good score in Galaxian to beat Donald,
because it’s the one game he’s somewhat weak on,” he says. “The only
problem was, I’d never played it before--not seriously.” He bagged a score
of 128,000 and moved on. In the home stretch, he had to break 560,000 on
Donkey Kong Jr., a game in which Mr. Hayes holds the world record. He lost
his first life after just 70,000 points. Soon the referee approached him.
“Time’s up, Dwayne,” he said. “This will be your last game.” His previous
all-time high score was only 400,000, but he was in the zone. “If you were
watching me play, it was like I literally couldn’t die, no matter what I
did,” he says. “It wasn’t pretty.” Mr. Richard closed in for the kill,
abandoning his game with a score of 609,000. The champion will spend the summer buying, selling and refurbishing
games and travelling to other competitions. He is nonchalant about his
win, but raves about the guy who notched an outlandish 1.7 million on
Zaxxon, and a New Yorker who “kicked my a--” at Robotron. “It’s like being
in the orchestra,” he says. “Everybody has different games they excel at:
everybody has a different style, a different creativity.” But there’s only
one Paganini, only one Horowitz--and only one Dwayne Richard. From Middle
English to Middle-Earth THE June issue of the Oxford English
Dictionary Newsletter contains a curious sketch of the experiences of
J.R.R. Tolkien, author of The Lord of the Rings, inside and outside
the OED. Some fans may know that Tolkien was a philologist by
profession, but it is little appreciated that as a young professor he
personally wrote quite a few of the entries in this weightest of
authorities on our language. Associate OED editor Peter Gilliver
ransacked the Oxford archives in the early 1990s and found that Tolkien
had worked on words ranging from waggle to warlock. That may not sound
like a very broad band, but consider that it took from 1879 to 1928 to
produce the complete first edition of the dictionary from A to Z. It seems Tolkien was trusted for his thoroughness and was specifically
used to tackle hard words. To him we owe our knowledge of the complex
origins of the walnut and the walrus, and he became an expert on the
changing subtleties of the waistcoat. (Mr. Gilliver hints that Tolkien’s
later adoption of this article of dress may have been inspired by these
researches.) But the best anecdote dates to 1969, nearly five decades
after Tolkien had moved on from the OED. The OED editor of
the day, Robert Burchfield, was a former student of Tolkien. When he
learned that his underlings were preparing to add “hobbit” to the
dictionary, he sent a copy of the draft entry to Tolkien for perusal.
Tolkien replied with his own proposed entry--twice as long, of course, and
much more exact. It went into the book, Mr. Gilliver reports, virtually
unchanged. Rewriting the dictionary: now there is a privilege any author
would envy. You can be
too rich EDMONTON-based developers BioWare Inc. own
one of the big names in computer gaming right now. How big, you ask? Have
you heard of Shattered Steel? A little thing called Baldur’s
Gate? OK, maybe you haven’t, unless you’re under 35 and you have a tan
from sitting in front of your monitor killing virtual trolls. But maybe
you heard in February that George Lucas’ licensing company had selected
BioWare to create the forthcoming Star Wars: Knights of the Old
Republic, the first Star Wars role-playing game for the new Microsoft
XBox game platform. But perhaps the best indicator of BioWare’s remarkable success came on
June 17. Founded in 1995 by Edmonton medical doctors Ray Muzyka and Greg
Zeschuk (hence the “Bio”), the company has established the BioWare Kids’
Fund to help raise money for the Children’s Mental Health Unit at
Edmonton’s Royal Alexandra Hospital. On June 14, BioWare put two copies of
its unreleased Dungeons and Dragons game, Neverwinter Nights, up
for auction on eBay, with the proceeds to be earmarked for the fund.
D&D fans have been waiting for the game for four years; in another two
weeks, it will be available in stores for US$55. But out there in
cyberspace, there were two bidders--“grouchydragon” and “snotty11”--who
were either feeling very generous, or simply could not wait. “Grouchy”
paid US$1,625 for his copy of Neverwinter. “Snotty” got his for a
steal at just US$1,525. We trust that, despite their cantankerous
pseudonyms, they will enjoy their expensive fortnight of
troll-killing. You’re in
good hands with All-(powerful-)state SO maybe you’ve gotten over your initial
nervousness about the Liberal gun registry and the massive database that
goes with it. No government official or law officer would ever use that
information for evil purposes, surely? Alas, if only it were so. A recent
(June 11) episode of TechTV.com’s Cybercrime highlighted a
horrifying list of recent database abuses from around the world. Consider
these nuggets a preview of your future:
Hmm, how does that old saying about roads paved with good intentions go
again? Fill up on more scare stories at http://www.techtv.com/cybercrime/. What you
don’t know can’t molest you A reader has thoughtfully sent us an
interesting June 14 clipping from the Hamilton Spectator. It
begins: “A 39-year-old youth group leader who Niagara police allege preyed
on a 15-year-old girl in his flock has been charged with sexual assault
and sexual exploitation. Khalid Saleem Khader of St. Catharines was
arrested Wednesday.” The article tells a familiar story--abuse of
authority, smutty e-mails, sordid goings-on in parked cars and the like.
The punchline: “Niagara police will not identify the church or place of
worship Khader was involved with.” We thought readers in that area might be interested in this attitude.
Now, most certainly, a fellow named Khalid Saleem Khader could be a
Scientologist or a new-minted Mormon. But we have the uneasy feeling that
the Niagara police have invented a new rule: “If a Roman Catholic molests
a child, that’s front-page news. If a Muslim molests a child, that’s a
state secret.” Cartoons
si, correctness no NEWSMAX.COM reports July 19 that the U.S.’s
Cartoon Network, a division of AOL Time Warner, has decided to restore
Warner Brothers’ classic Speedy Gonzalez cartoons to regular rotation. The
resourceful Mexican mouse was deemed a “negative stereotype” in March and
cast into the memory hole by fearful network executives. But they had
failed to do their homework: it turns out that Hispanic people, by and
large, are crazy about Speedy Gonzalez. Pro-Speedy protests from the
League of United Latin American Citizens and other organizations
eventually convinced the network to free the mouse from his politically
correct trap. The cartoons will return near the end of June. Arriba,
arriba! Duly
Noted
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