A History of the Commodore 64 in Twelve Objects #11: Turrican II – keeping up with the Amiga

On the occasion of my new book Too Much Fun: The Five Lives of the Commodore 64 Computer, I am writing The History of the Commodore 64 in Twelve Objects, posted weekly from November 1st, 2024:

The final boss in Turrican II for the Commodore Amiga (source)

By 1991, the Commodore 64 was waning as a commercial platform – yet games were still coming out, especially in Europe. There had been little reason to expect that the C64 would be produced for so many years, and Commodore had assumed that the Commodore Amiga would be the replacement.

Launched as a professional computer in 1985 (Amiga 1000) and later as a consumer model in 1987 (Amiga 500), the Amiga was technologically in a completely different league. Designed by Jay Miner and the team behind Atari’s 8-bit computers, the Amiga had a faster CPU, digitized sound, a graphical multitasking OS, and a graphics system geared towards hires, multilayered and fast-moving graphics.

Where the original 1990 Turrican was a C64-first release, Turrican II was released in 1991 for the Amiga and later for the C64, PC, and other platforms. According to interviews with developer Manfred Trenz, Turrican II development started on the C64, but this platform apparently was no longer the primary focus. In this way, the space between Turrican I and II is the moment where the C64 became the secondary platform for the developer. The Turrican games also mark the time where the C64 action-adventure tradition discussed previously became influenced by Japanese action games too.

How would the C64 version stack up to other platforms? As the Zzap!64 review stated, “This game is the sort of program you’d expect … on some exotic, super expensive Japanese console. … The walkers are terrific too, they look like Amiga characters”. While the hardware of competing platforms was improving, C64 developers were also improving their skills, sometimes with inspiration from the demoscene.

The final boss in Turrican II for the Commodore 64 (source)

Developers were trying to keep up with more capable platforms, especially with the Amiga. In C64 reviews, the recurring question in the late 1980s and early 1990s became, “how good is it, compared to the Amiga version?” – or to a newer computer or console? This was raised for games (Defender of the CrownLemmings), user interfaces (the graphical GEOS interface), and demos.

In Too Much Fun, I call this the Fourth Life of the C64, characterized by anxiety about the status of the machine. But that anxiety was to dissipate, as I will discuss next week.

Did you worry that the C64 could no longer keep up with newer machines? When did you stop worrying?

Coming Jan 17th: Object #12 – The Commodordion – two C64s as a musical instrument

A History of the Commodore 64 in Twelve Objects #9: Final Cartridge – Fixing the C64’s Flaws

On the occasion of my new book Too Much Fun: The Five Lives of the Commodore 64 Computer, I am writing The History of the Commodore 64 in Twelve Objects, posted weekly from November 1st, 2024:On the occasion of my new book Too Much Fun: The Five Lives of the Commodore 64 Computer, I am writing The History of the Commodore 64 in Twelve Objects, posted weekly from November 1st, 2024:

It wasn’t all great. The Commodore 64 came with glaring, everyday gnawing flaws that Commodore never fixed:

  • The tape drive was slow.
  • After a series of unfortunate events, bugs, bug fixes, workarounds, and last-minute botches in the production process, the C64’s disk drive was not slow, more like glacial.
  • C64 BASIC lacked proper commands for dealing with the disk drive, and even seeing the contents of a floppy involved the LOAD “$”,8 command, erasing the current program in memory.

The 1985 Final Cartridge was your solution to these flaws, creating a new tape format, speeding up the disk drive, adding new BASIC commands and utilizing the function keys (F7 to show the floppy directory).

In today’s parlance, Final Cartridge was a monumental quality of life upgrade. You could already do almost everything without the cartridge, but the cartridge made life easier and faster, allowing you to quickly shuffle between disks, make copies, modify programs, or just load games faster.

Final Cartridge’s additional features also accommodated technically minded user:

  • A machine code monitor for reading and modifying the program in memory.
  • A reset button.
  • A “freeze” button (in later iterations) for ostensibly backups, or even saving your game progress in games that lacked suck a function.
  • Better printer support.

How could you make the disk drive faster? You might expect that the bottleneck was reading and writing the floppy disk itself, but that was already plenty fast. The bottleneck was communicating the data over the cable between the C64 and the drive. The disk drive could be sped up because the 1541 disk drive is a small computer of its own, and because there are disk commands for sending small programs to the drive. A fast loader like Final Cartridge thus sends a program to the drive with a faster “protocol,” a faster way to send data between computer and drive.

Did the Final Cartridge make the C64 everything it would have been with more development time and a higher price? Perhaps, but there was a joy in plugging in the cartridge for the first time, making your computer faster, nicer, and more enjoyable.

Which cartridge did you use?

Coming Jan 3rd: Object #10 – You are invited to a Demo Party

A History of the Commodore 64 in Twelve Objects #8: Floppy disk (with pirated games)

On the occasion of my new book Too Much Fun: The Five Lives of the Commodore 64 Computer, I am writing The History of the Commodore 64 in Twelve Objects, posted weekly from November 1st, 2024:

These two floppy disks came with a second-hand Commodore 64. Such flat objects for storing programs were called “floppies” because they were easily bendable, as opposed to fixed disks, and hence quite fragile. 5 ¼” was a common type of floppy disk, shared with IBM PCs and many other computers. As was common, this second-hand C64 had a collection of disks (twenty) with pirated material, and only two pieces of original software.

The 1541 disk drive. Photo by Evan-Amos.

Compared to tapes, such disks were the more expensive storage option for C64s, the 1541 disk drive often costing as much as the computer itself. Already with their first computer, the PET, Commodore had decided that devices should be connected to computers using USB-like cables, rather than through opening the computer and installing hardware. This was an elegant and surprisingly modern solution but also made the devices quite expensive, as they needed to be small computers by themselves.

To read the fragile disks, the 1541 disk drive often needed to do a “head alignment”, where the disk drive adjusted itself by banging the head against an internal stop, giving a surprisingly violent loud sound. To be a C64 disk drive owner was to live with and listen to the recurring sounds of the drive.

According to the label on the floppy disks themselves, the disks originated from a course in WordPerfect for IBM PCs (“WP Kursus” 1-2) and were later appropriated for less “serious” C64 use. The paper sleeve lists the software: Donald Duck’s Playground, Duck Shoot, Falcon Patrol, Frogger, Ghost ‘n Goblins, Grand Prix. Piracy was pervasive on the C64.

There were two types of floppy disks: single- and double sided, the latter being more expensive, but it quickly became known that you could cut a little notch in the side of a floppy, allowing you to use both sides of the cheap disk.

This was part of the impetus behind this history of the C64 through objects : Owning a C64 was an intensely physical thing. When it comes to floppy disks, be a C64 owner was also to be adept with scissors.

Coming December 27th: Object #9 – Final Cartridge – fixing the C64’s flaws

 

The Rule Book: The Building Blocks of Games

The Rule BookPresenting The Rule Book: The Building Blocks of Games by Jaakko Stenros and Markus Montola. Out now on MIT Press in the Playful Thinking series.

How games are built on the foundations of rules, and how rules—of which there are only five kinds—really work.

Board games to sports, digital games to party games, gambling to role-playing games. They all share one thing in common: rules. Indeed, rules are the one and only thing game scholars agree is central to games. But what, in fact, are rules? In The Rule Book, Jaakko Stenros and Markus Montola explore how different kinds of rules work as building blocks of games. Rules are constraints placed on us while we play, carving a limited possibility space for us. They also inject meaning into our play: without rules there is no queen in chess, no ball in Pong, and no hole in one in golf.

Stenros and Montola discuss how rules constitute games through five foundational types: the explicit statements listed in the official rules, the private limitations and goals players place on themselves, the social and cultural norms that guide gameplay, the external regulation the surrounding society places on playing, and the material embodiments of rules. Depending on the game, rules can be formal, internal, social, external, or material.

By considering the similarities and differences of wildly different games and rules within a shared theoretical framework, The Rule Book renders all games more legible.

 

Peter D. McDonald: Run and Jump, The Meaning of the 2D Platformer

Run and Jump cover

Out now in the Playful Thinking series: Peter D. McDonald: Run and Jump, The Meaning of the 2D Platformers.

We are proud to present Peter D. McDonald’s new book.

“How abstract design decisions in 2D platform games create rich worlds of meaning for players.

Since the 1980s, 2D platform games have captivated their audiences. Whether the player scrambles up the ladders in Donkey Kong or leaps atop an impossibly tall pipe in Super Mario Bros., this deceptively simple visual language has persisted in our cultural imagination of video games. In Run and Jump, Peter McDonald surveys the legacy of 2D platform games and examines how abstract and formal design choices have kept players playing. McDonald argues that there is a rich layer of meaning underneath, say, the quality of an avatar’s movement, the pacing and rhythm of level design, the personalities expressed by different enemies, and the emotion elicited by collecting a coin.

To understand these games, McDonald draws on technical discussions by game designers as well as theoretical work about the nature of signs from structuralist semiotics. Interspersed throughout are design exercises that show how critical interpretation can become a tool for game designers to communicate with their players. With examples drawn from over forty years of game history, and from games made by artists, hobbyists, iconic designers, and industry studios, Run and Jump presents a comprehensive—and engaging—vision of this slice of game history.”

Handmade Pixels: The Sam Roberts Interview

For Handmade Pixels, I interviewed some really interesting people in indie games. The interviews are excerpted in the book, but I am slowly putting the full interviews online.

Handmade Pixels is about the history of (the idea of) indie games, and these 2017-2018 interviews provide a window into the thinking at the end of the 20-year time span the book covers.

Here is my interview with Sam Roberts, festival director of IndieCade, where we discuss IndieCade and film festivals, the meaning of indie, and the fear of missing the Next Big Thing.

https://www.jesperjuul.net/handmadepixels/interviews/roberts.html

 

The Game, the Player, the World at 20 Years

20th Anniversary notes on The Game, the Player, the World: Looking for a Heart of Gameness.

What is a Game?

What is a game? Early in my career, people wanted to know, but should I try to respond? In The Game, the Player, the World: Looking for a Heart of Gameness I tried to give an answer that was attentive to the ways we use the word “game”, open to change, and useful for generating new kinds of games. I presented the paper as a keynote talk at 2003 DiGRA conference in Utrecht, an early career highlight for me.

What is a game? Many people had already tried to answer the question and I had read many previous game definitions. Though I thought the paper was comprehensive, it turned out that I had overlooked writers like Celia Pearce and Clark C. Abt, but I felt that the previous definitions shared difficulties both in dealing with history and with the difference between games and other structured activities, such as going to the university.

What is a game? I wanted to answer this by examining points of contention about what we consider, or don’t consider, a game – that is, I made descriptive definition of how the category of games functions, rather than a static and prescriptive one.

Technically, I think the paper did three things that were different than previous attempts. (It is entirely possible that all makers of game definitions consider themselves unique.)

  1. To account for change and to be open to new experiments coming along, the paper describes a classic game model, and shows how video games are moving beyond that model.
  2. My definition is a cluster definition where I show how removing different components will give different changes, such that it becomes open to examine borderline cases and change. For example, with the continued growth of persistent games with RPG-like stats that remain over time – think all mobile games – “outcome” now feels less central to games than it did in 2003.
  3. Where previous writers had argued about whether games were productive or unproductive, I say that games are really defined by this discussion, by the fact that we can negotiate the consequences of playing.[1]

Changing Meaning in Real-time

Reading the text again, it is striking that three terms have changed meaning during the intervening twenty years:

Telephone: A student asked me why the paper states that telephones aren’t used for playing games, since this seems to be common today. A good question, but at the time of writing, “telephone” meant a landline phone. We did have mobile phones and we played games on them, but not on landline “telephones”.

Hypertext fiction: In 2003, “Hypertext Fiction” referred to experimental literature such as Shelley Jackson’s Patchwork Girl. I discuss in Handmade Pixels how 1990s hypertext fiction writers felt it important that, to be taken seriously, their works were not considered games, and in this paper, I respect that and place them outside the classic game circle. Yet appearing during the 2010s, the genre of Twine games had some surface similarities to Hypertext Fiction, but were either structured as games, or referred to game conventions (sometimes by rejecting them). Though Twine games are sometimes also called “hypertext fiction”, I always argue that Twine games are games.

Game: Much experimental work eschewed the “game” label twenty years ago, perhaps because it sounded unserious, but today we have much more work that tries to make games into something new, and my original paper did fully not anticipate Modern Art-like strategies of working in the game tradition by strongly breaking with that tradition. I think experimental game work can exist in part because some of the stigma of “games” has disappeared, and while – as I note in the paper – games such as SimCity were originally not classed as game by the creator, there is now widespread agreement that a game can be an open-ended simulation that does not need to tell you what is good or bad (“valorization of outcomes”), and that game form can also serve to deliver fixed experience over which you have minimal control and responsibility as a player (“player attached to outcome”), as with the walking simulator genre. Game, or especially video game, can now stand for any audiovisual experience with player input.

Pedagogy

I work from the assumption that it is easier to break the rules if you know them, so I expose students to conventions in different genres and ways to break them, so that students can decide how (and if) they want their games to be experimental.

How I use The Game, the Player, the World in teaching: I find the article useful for teaching, both to get students to see themselves as active thinkers about theory and games, and for creating new ideas:

  1. I start by asking students to come up with their own game definitions in groups, then present it to other groups who try to identify when a definition is too narrow or too broad. This gives us a shared sense of what is strange or difficult about games.
  2. I show recent games which challenge the classic game model and/or the student definitions.
  3. I ask the students to create an almost-not-a-game for the next session – anything that they would be unsure whether to call a game.
  4. We play these games and discuss what they make us think about the cultural category of games, and how thinking about conventions can be productive for coming up with new ideas.

 

The Game, The Player, the World taught me that it can be productive to examine fundamental questions, but often by providing different kinds of answers than expected.

 

[1] I think this was inspired by Todorov’s account of The Fantastic in literature.

PS. I still don’t think Wittgenstein said anything profound about games specifically (or about Spiele). I read him as making a much broader point – that we cannot assume that a given word has a clearly delineated meaning, which is clearly true. Unfortunately, he is usually invoked to avoid examining the complex meanings of a word, especially the word game.

Frank Lantz’ “The Beauty of Games” out now

Another busy week in the Playful Thinking series.

Frank Lantz’ The Beauty of Games is out now.

How games create beauty and meaning, and how we can use them to explore the aesthetics of thought.

“Are games art? This question is a dominant mode of thinking about  games and play in the twenty-first century, but it is fundamentally the wrong question. Instead, Frank Lantz proposes in his provocative new book, The Beauty of Games, that we think about games and how they create meaning through the lens of the aesthetic. We should think of games, he writes, the same way we think of literature, theater, or music—as a form that ranges from deep and profound to easy and disposable, and everything in between. Games are the aesthetic form of interactive systems, a set of possibilities connected by rules of cause and effect.

In this book, Lantz analyzes games from chess to poker to tennis to understand how games create beauty and evoke a deeper meaning. He suggests that we think of games not only as hyper-modern objects but also as forms within the ancient context of artistic production, encompassing all of the nebulous and ephemeral qualities of the aesthetic experience.”

https://mitpress.mit.edu/9780262048538/the-beauty-of-games/