Given our recent New Years 2026 post , you’d think we’d be all done talking about the calamities of the real world. It'd be nice to think we could all  be past the national and international events that are weighing so many of us down. We can’t, though. It seems almost impossible to slink away from the heinous news megaphoning from the media day in and day out. We’ve been told, in no uncertain terms, to reject the evidence we see with our own eyes. Told not to believe that Charlotte Renee Good was murdered. Told to believe that she had it coming. Told to believe that the bullies are the real victims.  We’ve been told to comply with those same bullies' demands, and certainly not question whether those demands are lawful. We’ve been told we need to learn our lesson. Called names, assigned societal roles that don't fit us, and called "domestic terrorists" for merely indulging in the freedoms everyone in our nation is supposed to enjoy. How very dare we! It fee...

It's been weird seeing news articles about the first three  Zork  games this past week. The fact that Microsoft has officially put them into the public domain is certainly newsworthy, and offers a (likely naive) hope that this will set a standard for the future of older titles, but these games are extremely important to me as both player and scholar of gaming history, and deserve a closer (and, naturally, more personal) look than they're being afforded by the recent news coverage. So let's grab our trusty battered brass lamp and delve into the ruins of the Great Underground Empire, to LOOK AT, EXAMINE, and INSPECT the original  Zork  trilogy. It's essentially sheer luck that my first exposure to interactive fiction, as we call it today, was the first  Zork . If I played anything prior to that, it didn't make enough of an impression for me to remember it. The uncle responsible for the hand-me-down Commodore 64, the first computer to belong to me personally, proba...

Recently, I've been undertaking a task that I've been putting off for... literal decades, now that I think about it - retrieving and sorting the books that went into bins in my parents' basement when I first moved out of their house. As we've talked about plenty of times, you can glean a lot about person from their chosen media, and our selves are no exception. While a lot of books I uncovered were from my teens and early twenties, there were a few favorites going back to when I was much younger. One of the most beloved books that greeted me for the first time in nearly twenty years was  The Book of Lists ,  accompanied by two of the follow-up volumes. They're the kind of book that, thanks to easy-to-access internet, seem downright quaint now, but there was a time when they, especially the first volume, were my constant companions. At the time, I think I was more focused on the sheer amount of knowledge (some of which was rather... spicy for a kid my age) available ...