By RBS
Growing up in a square of rowhouses in a low- to a middle-income suburb in the 1980s and 90s, computers weren’t exactly abundant. Only two houses in “my” square of about 30 small houses had a computer. Renés’ dads’ C64 and Mikkels’ dads’ Amiga 500. Across the football field, in the houses on the hill, were a couple more. You’d find Jens’ Amiga 500 and Anders’ 386.
These machines were in my circle of friends and, thus, included in my daily walk around the area to find someone to hang out with (no mobile phones). René and Mikkel were my neighbors, so I’d start there, then pick up Mathias, who joined me on the tour of knocking on doors:
“Is Jens home? Can he play?”.
If no one were home, I pressed my nose against windows, looking in at the marvels of engineering that would allow us to play Fort Apocalypse, The Lost Patrol, or TV Sports Basketball -if only I could get in. It would gnaw at me restlessly if none of the wildly fortunate computer-havers were in. Football it is. Again. Or sitting around. Or kicking a ball up against the church walls. Or, you know, repeat the tour. It was, after all, a half an hour's walk. Mikkel or Rene might have come home in the meantime.
In the newspaper, I remember reading about virtual reality and the (false) promise it would be in the hands of consumers within a decade. I don’t know about you, but a decade was an insurmountable amount of time when I was a kid. Unimaginably long. And it filled me with annoyance. It was so unfair!
Looking back via Google image search, I think it must have been the NASA goggles. Anyway, it blew my mind. Or, more accurately, my imagination. I’m sure I was severely overstating the performance and gameplay experience such a headset would offer should I ever be able to get within 1000 miles of one. Sitting in my room, I would stare endlessly at the picture in the newspaper and imagine the games. I traveled far into the Universe or way back in history, fighting evil and building empires. Or I’d slay monsters while wearing a jetpack: Pewpew!
A few years later, I ate the book “Disclosure” by Michael Crichton, not interested in its subject of sexual harassment but in the description of the “experimental tech” of a full virtual reality environment.
Today, VR is here, and I’m fortunate enough to work at a VR studio in full swing with a new VR title, Genotype. I’m confident “past me” would readily trade all the years between then and now to be in my current position immediately. It is, after all, a sci-fi game with monster slaying!
When we launch Genotype in late 2023, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it too!
