Technically, I was probably born into a world where they had already revolutionised gaming -- I was a couple years late to watch it unfold personally.
On the other hand, I didn't grow up in an extremely well-off household, and our computers were for a long time pretty much dumpster-dive finds. This meant I was always exposed to hardware a few years old, which in turn meant I got to witness the technical revolution in real time, a few years after the cultural Revolution. (In other words, when Doom had taken over the world, I still couldn't play it. But a few years later, I could, and marvelled at what the computer could do.)
In another twist of fate, one of my parents strongly disliked that type of entertainment, and once they understood what I was doing, there was a strict ban on (most) violent media. (With very unclear boundaries of what constitutes violence.)
So, in effect, I missed the revolution, caught a glimpse of it, and then got cut off from it.
Reading Masters of Doom gave me back a chunk of my childhood that I feel was taken from me, in a weird sort of way.
You needed that DX turbo boost too, huh? You pretty much sun up my experience as well except I had an older brother that gave me his old PC when he went to college.
Technically, I was probably born into a world where they had already revolutionised gaming -- I was a couple years late to watch it unfold personally.
On the other hand, I didn't grow up in an extremely well-off household, and our computers were for a long time pretty much dumpster-dive finds. This meant I was always exposed to hardware a few years old, which in turn meant I got to witness the technical revolution in real time, a few years after the cultural Revolution. (In other words, when Doom had taken over the world, I still couldn't play it. But a few years later, I could, and marvelled at what the computer could do.)
In another twist of fate, one of my parents strongly disliked that type of entertainment, and once they understood what I was doing, there was a strict ban on (most) violent media. (With very unclear boundaries of what constitutes violence.)
So, in effect, I missed the revolution, caught a glimpse of it, and then got cut off from it.
Reading Masters of Doom gave me back a chunk of my childhood that I feel was taken from me, in a weird sort of way.