From the Memory Bank: My History with Video Games

Doom - Mountains of Fun (Part 2)
How a bunch of garage developers used their teleportation powers to reach across the console-computer divide and pull me into their world.

I was amazed by what these "Windows" machines were able to do, but I was honestly intimidated by the vastness of the new world to which they were allowing me access. There was so much to learn, and I didn't even know where to start.

The only thing about the Windows computer that made immediate sense to me was its ability to run video games, because I grew up around computers that were designed to do so. "They were designed primarily for gaming," history told me.

And it just so happened that James' friends had already installed a couple of games on his hard drive. Among them was the original Doom, which I'd never seen before. James knew that I was interesting in playing it, so he loaded it up and allowed me to mess around with it for a while.

The game's presentation was very different than what I was used to, and controlling the action with a mouse felt strange to me at first (I hadn't used one since 1995, when I last played Mario Paint), but neither of these divergences made me feel anxious or out of my depth, no. Rather, the only feeling that I was experiencing was excitement.

I was thrilled to finally be playing the real Doom!

Within a minute, it became obvious to me that the original Doom was superior to the SNES version in many ways. It moved more smoothly. Its floors and ceilings had actual textures. Its graphics were far cleaner and much higher in quality. Its scaling objects had so much more visual clarity to them. Its system of using the keyboard's number keys to swap weapons was much more intuitive. And its monsters had physical dimension and could be viewed from all angles.

Also, it had one of my favorite mechanics of all time: enemy infighting! By manipulating monsters' movements, I learned, you could get them to walk into each other's gunfire and projectile attacks and thus induce them to fight each other and unwittingly thin out their own ranks! (At first, it seemed to be the case that you could only induce monsters of different types to fight each other, but I learned later on that you could in fact get certain types, like zombie soldiers and lost souls, to fight members of their own groups.)

Instigating enemy infighting was one of my favorite things to do. It was tactically advantageous because it helped me to save ammo, but I loved it more so because it allowed me to do something incredibly fun: pit different monsters against each other and watch them fight it out and vie for superiority! I always spent loads of time instigating fights between imps and demons and cacodemons and barons of Hell and finding out which type had the other's number!

The only thing that I missed from the SNES version was the reverberant, bass-heavy music, which I greatly preferred to the original's soft, tinny-sounding compositions. "Apparently computer games are still a little behind in this area," I thought as I listened to the game's tunes.

At one point, James revealed to me that I was playing the "shareware version" (a term that I didn't fully understand at the time) of Doom, which, for whatever reason, didn't include the second and third episodes. I wasn't particularly disappointed by that news, though, because, like I said, I wasn't a huge fan of those episodes and I was with only having the option of replaying the first episode. Because it was phenomenal and worthy of being played over and over again!

When, months later, my parents became aware of how frequently I was using James' computer and enjoying all of its new features, they decided to buy me one for my birthday. They got me a Windows '98 machine, which promptly found a home on the folding tray in the left corner of our L-shaped den!

Once James and I finished setting it up, we agreed that it was a requisite to immediately install Doom (the full version, which he had since come to own) on it. Because it was, in both of our experiences, intrinsically linked to the platform.

The only problem was that we didn't understand DOS language!

We knew that we wanted to install Doom on the C drive and place it in an appropriately named directory, but we each time we tried to do so, we had to back out of the installation process because the setup menu would inform us that the "\doom" directory "didn't exist" and needed to be created. For whatever reason, we thought that the menu asking us if we wanted to replace the C drive, itself, and irreparably alter the entire operating system. And obviously we didn't want to do that.

"'Create C," you say? "Absolutely not! We will not allow you, silly menu, to defile this beautiful machine!"

That was pretty much our response.

We hadn't the faintest idea of what a "Sound Blaster" or a "Port Address" was or what "IRQ" and "DMA" stood for, so we simply assumed that they weren't anything important and simply mashed the Enter key until the game finally installed itself.

"Away with ye, meaningless text!" we said with our actions. "Leave us alone and let us play our Doom!"

That the two of us managed to go 18-plus years without accidentally blowing up the house is quite frankly a miracle.

Doom was more than six years old by that point, but it was still as relevant as ever. It was, in that regard, the Super Mario Bros. of modern PC gaming. It had the type of staying power that allowed it to transcend technological advancement and remain as reliably entertaining and fun as it was in the era in which it was released.

In fact, my experience of playing Doom on my very own computer evoked memories of the time when I first played Super Mario Bros. on my brand new NES. It reminded me of how great it felt to have a gaming system and games that you could call your own; how exciting it was to be able to spend time with them and become familiar with them in a more intimate space; and how empowering it felt to be able to do with them whatever you pleased.

In gaming, that was the most special experience you could have. I knew that well, and thus I made sure to relish every second of my first intimate experience with Doom and its host platform.

At first, I interacted with the game in my usual way: I stuck mainly to Episode 1 and simply adjusted the difficult-level whenever I felt the need to mix things up (though, I avoided the "Nightmare" difficulty in this version because it featured respawning monsters, and I hated that game element because it inhibited me from being able to slowly and thoroughly explore stages, which I really enjoyed doing).

But later on, when I learned that the game's save function allowed you to restart from the very point in which you saved (rather than from the state's starting point), I felt more comfortable playing through Episodes 2 and 3, which consequently became more manageable. And as I improved my Doom skills, I came to appreciate these episodes more, and I started playing through them on a more frequent basis.

And in time, as I started to become a seasoned Doom player, I largely abandoned the use of quick-saves. Then, eventually, I arrived at a point in which I considered it to be a sign of dishonor to even think about using them for anything other than emergency breaks.

"Saving is for the weak," I'd remind myself any time I'd feel the temptation to do so.

But soon, three episodes of Doom weren't enough for me. I wanted more Doom action. I needed more Doom action. My appetite for it was insatiable!

And I knew just where I could find it: in Doom II: Hell on Earth, which I'd sampled on James' computer a few months earlier. That game, I was told, had over 30 missions! So I installed it on my computer and immediately tore into it! Then I spent the next few days joyously playing through it and thoroughly enjoying its action!

But even Doom II wasn't enough to satisfy my craving. I still wanted more. So in the weeks that followed, James and I went out and bought The Ultimate Doom, Final Doom and Master Levels for Doom II. And then I proceeded to zealously play through them and consume every bit of their content.

During that period, I returned to all of the Doom games on a constant basis.

I simply couldn't get enough of them!

I got so immersed in the scene, in fact, that I became interested in WAD-creation. So I downloaded DoomEd and tried my hand at making my own stages.

All I wound up doing, though, was spending hours trying to fully comprehend the application's programming language. However hard I tried, I just couldn't grasp the intricacies. I couldn't figure out how to construct multi-level stages or correctly implement moving walls and platforms (my "vectors" would never properly connect with my "voxels," or whatever).

So instead I settled for building simple stages that were comprised of two or three rooms, all of which were connected by single doors.

My most recurring creation--and shining example of my OCD tendencies--was what I called "The Pit of Death." Basically I'd construct an enormous square room and load it up with several rows of perfectly aligned monsters, and I'd sort the monsters by type and arrange them in size order (pistol-wielding zombies up front, and Cyberdemons at the rear). I'd position them so that they'd be facing north, away from the hero, who'd start the mission at the top of a tall, weapon-filled pillar that was positioned directly behind them. And I'd place invincibility orbs in each corner and set the exit switch in the center of the northern wall, in plain sight.

My intention, though, wasn't to create an easily beatable stage, no. Rather, it was to create an awesome action scene! My hope was that awakening the tightly packed monster horde would result in a sequence in which they'd unintentionally strike each other, begin fight amongst themselves, and thus engage in a huge, chaotic rumble! And, to my great joy, that was usually what would happen!

And after initiating the scene, I'd grab myself an invincibility orb and a bag of popcorn and have fun observing the fracas and seeing how the different enemy types matched up against each other. (I was especially interested in watching Cyberdemon-versus-Spider Mastermind battles and finding out which of them was truly superior! They were pretty evenly matched, it turned out, though the Spider Mastermind did hold a slight edge in victory-total.)

I gave up on WAD-creation after I exhausted the chaotic-monster-brawl concept. "I'm not capable of making actual good Doom stages," I realized, "so I should stop and leave stage-design to the experts."

That's what Doom did: It took me to new places and inspired me to leave my comfort zone and try new things. And consequently it played a major role in my evolution as an enthusiast.

One of its other successes was that it helped me to broaden my view of the industry and see it in a new light. It showed me that small independent companies could produce works that were just as revolutionary and as industry-changing as any of those created by the Nintendos, Segas and Capcoms of the world. It made me realize that it was the young upstarts, and not the complacent industry veterans, who were more likely to challenge norms and conventions and bravely take us to new places.

It was revelatory in that regard.

I can't imagine what the industry or my gaming life would look like without id Software's contributions. Both would be much emptier places.

I'm glad that I discovered Doom when I did--on the SNES in 1995, at the point in which console gaming was peaking--but there's a part of me that wishes that I could have had my first experience with the game in 1993, back when it was making its greatest impact on the computer scene and changing the entire world. I really feel as though I missed out by not being there. I missed the chance to be a part of a big cultural movement and witness firsthand the rise of one of the most revolutionary video games to ever come around.

"If only I'd been paying attention to what was going on in the computer space," I think with great regret whenever I read or watch videos about Doom's history and the DOS era of PC gaming.

That's not a knock on the SNES version of Doom, no. It's still a sacred game to me. It was a great product for the time, and I loved every second that I spent with it. It provided me months-worth of the most fun and entertaining shooting action I'd ever experienced.

Also, it was the main reason why I became a fan of early-90s first-person shooters and DOS gaming as a whole. It served as my portal to a new world of wonder and imagination. Without it, I likely would have remained trapped in my bubble and oblivious to the hot new trends in gaming.

Going back to it now, I can see why it's an object of derision: It runs really slowly (at about 10FPS). Its sprites and textures are overly pixelated. Its controls are rough (shoulder-button strafing is laggy and awkward-feeling, and having to cycle through weapons with a single button is a big inconvenience). Its object physics are rough, and thus the hero is always getting stuck on walls. The enemy AI is compromised a bit, and most noticeably, monsters are unable to walk down stairs (instances of which would always prompt James to quip, "They can take over a whole planet, but somehow they can't figure out how to walk down a simple flight of stairs.") And it's missing five stages.

But still I consider it to be a high-tier SNES game. I still say that it's well-made and fun to play.

It's a compromised version of a PC classic, sure, but it's in no way a disgrace. It does as good a job as it can do proximate the original work on a console whose technology is obviously severely limited in comparison to a 1993-era PC's.

At the least, its more-reverberant, most-sinister-toned music holds up very well and compares quite favorably to its PC counterpart's. It still does an amazing job of creating atmosphere and evoking feelings of unease, which is exactly what you want it to do.

Really, Doom's is one of the best video-game soundtracks in any of its forms. Every variation of its music is awesomely composed and amounts to the some of the best aural augmentation that a game could have. It's simply outstanding. (That the composer allegedly ripped off the works of Metallica, Pantera, and other heavy-metal bands is disappointing but forgivable given the music's amazing quality.)

My personal favorite track is the Episode 1, Mission 5 theme: Suspense, which is second to none in terms of evoking feelings of fear and dread and creating an air of impending doom. It's so appropriately evil-sounding that it makes the perfect background accompaniment in those times when you're plotting a mass takeover of all of the world's hibachi steakhouses!

Or is that just me?

I had planned to use the conveniently accessible The Ultimate Doom as the source for my PC screenshots, but I refrained from doing so because I felt that its textures were too darkly shaded and otherwise lacked that classic DOS visual feel.

What I did, instead, was look around to see if I owned an original version of the game. And while I was digging through my file cabinet, I found a generic jewel case with the words "Doom '95" written on its cover in black marker. The case contained a CD whose files had a "Date Created" listing of "September 30th, 2000," which, not coincidentally, was the last time that I got real heavy into Doom.

It was only then that I came to the realization that it had been almost 20 years since I was introduced to modern computers. (Where did the time go, man?)

In that moment, I suddenly became nostalgic for the late-90s era of computer gaming, and I found myself reminiscing about the days when I spent entire summer afternoons joyfully and enthusiastically mowing down imps, cacodemons, revenants and mancubuses.

Up until that point, it had usually been the case that I only reminisced about the NES, the Game Boy, and other childhood systems that were important to me because of how they shaped my early life, which was why it was so weird for me to find myself having nostalgic feelings for a platform that I didn't believe to have any formative influence on me. "Because you lose the ability to create nostalgic memories once you reach your 20s," I'd convinced myself. "At that point in your life, you no longer see your experiences as magical."

It turned out, though, that I was mistaken. You're never too old to create nostalgic memories. That's the lesson that I learned as I sentimentally reminisced about my early days with Doom and the DOS platform.

What I'm doing here today is further confirmation of that fact. My writing this record-length piece and eagerly sharing all of my fond memories is proof that the 90s-era computer scene did indeed leave a deeply indelible mark on me.

It was as formative as any other.

Save for a handful of other first-person shooters (one of which I'll be talking about soon), Doom and its sequels are pretty much the only genre games that I actually enjoy playing. They're the only ones to which I return on a regular basis.

I tried to get into the Quake series in the mid-2000s, on the recommendation of VGMuseum site-owner Mek, but I couldn't do so because I found it to be too complicated. I just couldn't deal with y-axis camera control. I struggled to aim shots while moving the camera vertically, and whenever the action get hectic, I turned into a panicky, flailing monkey boy who couldn't hit a goddamned thing.

Each time, I'd wind up quitting and returning to the Doom games, which were far more accessible, much easier to play, and just as great as any of the games that they inspired.

And all of that remains true 25-plus years later. The Doom games offer simple, reliably fun action, and that's why I'll always take one of them over any modern first-person shooter.

There isn't a game in the Doom family that I don't like. I have a great fondness for Doom, Doom II, Final Doom, Master Levels and Doom 64, and I consider all of them to be top-tier action games.

But the one that will always resonate most strongly with me is the original Doom: the timeless masterwork that was dreamed up by a bunch of kids who wanted to challenge industry norms, impress the world, and show us that the little guy held just as much sway as any of the biggest companies. They succeeded on all fronts, and their labor of love helped to spawn a new genre that went on to become synonymous with computer gaming and an entire era of games.

For me, their baby is a brilliantly designed, amazingly atmospheric masterpiece, and it represents everything that I love about the medium. I hold it in the highest regard, and I consider it to be one of the most incredibly fun, utterly replayable games ever made.

I'll continue to play it and enjoy it for as long as I live.

Doom and its creators took the industry and a generation of enthusiasts on a voyage to the depths of Hell, and I was lucky enough to have been a passenger on their ship.

And, well, here's to hoping that I get the chance to make many return trips to that special place.