ARCADE ACTION CLOSE-UP
I admit it. I am a Q*Bert burnout. After two days on the suicidal pyramid of cubes, it became impossible to recognize the tops from the bottoms. Once one has flunked the ground/figure psychology test, unable to see the vase instead of the two faces kissing there's no going back.
ARCADE ACTION CLOSE-UP
CRAZY FOR Q*BERT'S CUBE
I admit it. I am a Q*Bert burnout. After two days on the suicidal pyramid of cubes, it became impossible to recognize the tops from the bottoms. Once one has flunked the ground/figure psychology test, unable to see the vase instead of the two faces kissing there's no going back. I've had to turn in my joystick, 'cause the world of Q*Bert turned crossed-eyed on me.
Even now as I type on my video screen, I jerk back, expecting little red, purple, and green gobs to fall down upon these words, crunching my cursor with a horrible fender-bending collision.
The name of Q*Bert itself sounds like swearing. From the electronic "clunk" the moment one puts in a quarter, the noises of Q*Bert form an entire linguistic fantasy in imaginative cursing. Even when the game is over, Q*Bert gets the last word, which sounds a little like "bye-bye," or "sci-fi," or "I buried Paul," I'm nof sure which. And the player's inevitable groan fits right into the advanced vocabulary. They finally made a game to match the emotions of video futility.