And he lacked the skill to make one of his own working with text in FORTRAN was notoriously difficult. It was the only one of its type on the university’s computers, and his family had no computer at home as yet. Terroron was quickly forgotten.īut when he finished Adventure at last, he had no more adventure games to play. This time he managed to find his way underground, and from there he was hooked.
But it continued to tickle at the back of his mind, and a month or so later he tried again. He flailed at it for a while and gave up. A SMALL STREAM FLOWS OUT OF THE BUILDING AND DOWN A GULLY.Īntonio didn’t know quite what he was supposed to do next for some reason this build of the game was missing the usual offer of instructions at the beginning. YOU ARE STANDING AT THE END OF A ROAD BEFORE A SMALL BRICK BUILDING. He started the program, and was greeted with the text that launched a thousand careers and a million obsessions: But wait, here was something new… something called ADVENT. Not bad! Inside he found mostly the usual suspects, from Tic Tac Toe to The Oregon Trail. He didn’t have an account on this system, but found that as Guest he had access to games. So, Antonio knew pretty well what he was doing as he started poking at one of the terminals to see what was what.
#Thinkin things 1 ios movie#
(From the great-minds-think-alike department: this is also the theme of Crush, Crumble, and Chomp!, arguably the most inspired use of the Automated Simulations DunjonQuest engine, as well as the later, more refined The Movie Monster Game.)
Called Terroron, it was an homage to the Japanese monster movies he loved the player got to control a monster rampaging through a city. He had even spent many months working on a game. Indeed, he was all too familiar with the traditional method of mainframe programming - deliver a stack of cards to a friendly computer operator, then wait for the printed results. Now 13 years old, he could already program fairly well in FORTRAN and operate a keypunch machine. Antonio had been hanging out at his father’s workplace for the past five years now, tinkering with the various big computers there. The terminals were cool, but this was otherwise not an unusual scenario. Dad had some meetings to take, so he left Antonio in an empty computer lab, one of the few at the university equipped with real video terminals in lieu of the more common teletypes. One day in 1979 Antonio Antiochia visited Eastern Michigan University with his father, who taught classes there on statistics and computers.
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