Clover
Bio
"Video games are not art" - Roger Ebert
i don't rate. rankings are loose and subject to change at all times.
Apologies to the Clover of the Backloggd Discord server, but I've been Clover since 2009 so this username belongs to me.
Also I love my husband :)
"Video games are not art" - Roger Ebert
i don't rate. rankings are loose and subject to change at all times.
Apologies to the Clover of the Backloggd Discord server, but I've been Clover since 2009 so this username belongs to me.
Also I love my husband :)
Badges
Listed
Created 10+ public lists
Pinged
Mentioned by another user
Organized
Created a list folder with 5+ lists
Best Friends
Become mutual friends with at least 3 others
Roadtrip
Voted for at least 3 features on the roadmap
Liked
Gained 10+ total review likes
Well Written
Gained 10+ likes on a single review
4 Years of Service
Being part of the Backloggd community for 4 years
N00b
Played 100+ games
Popular
Gained 15+ followers
Noticed
Gained 3+ followers
Favorite Games
091
Total Games Played
000
Played in 2024
078
Games Backloggd
Recently Reviewed See More
H.E.R.O. - 1984
By John Van Ryzin
Published by Activision
Released for Atari 2600
Initial descent down the deadly caverns of this helicopter-cladden spelunker’s rescue operation is tense, but doesn’t stay unfamiliar. No two stages are the same, but every encounter with enemy and obstacle within maintains on reset. The adventure begins with an awkward tumble down initial screens as opposed to heroic dives and elegant acrobatics. And getting caught in the blast radius of your dynamite is an inevitability. The goal is simple: Make the unfamiliar, familiar. Be mindful of your resources. Become a hero for those trapped below. And where H.E.R.O. excels in this tee-up is within the exciting push-pull dance of authored imprecision, firm rules and our place between them.
Acceleration is abrupt. Nearly too fast, even. Inching towards obstacles is a task more dangerous than making room for dynamite. And with full directional movement, the possibilities of where to go – and what to crash into – are endless. Pressing down on the up-directional of the controller to whirr your copter-pack to life is laborious, and each release of the control demands immediate press-down follow up to hold control over climb and descent as each passage grows ever-narrow. The repetition of the similarly-constructed chasms, with their multicoloured walls and environmental abstractions, dull out memorisation. The friction is subtle, as to not lean too far into imprecision and unfair design, and calculated enough so that a perfect run is lost to overconfidence and carelessness than at the hand of faulty programming. Maybe you forgot that a snake pops out of a specific wall just a few stages in. After that, maybe you misjudged how narrow the passage between two hazard walls were when falling down. Got a bit too confident with blasting bats right above lava? That will cost you if you get too close. It’s in that push-and-pull of the immovable and faultless game against the unrestricted, but fallible player where H.E.R.O. shines as a chase towards a perfect run. Learn the rules, throw yourself at them, and fail then overcome.
By John Van Ryzin
Published by Activision
Released for Atari 2600
Initial descent down the deadly caverns of this helicopter-cladden spelunker’s rescue operation is tense, but doesn’t stay unfamiliar. No two stages are the same, but every encounter with enemy and obstacle within maintains on reset. The adventure begins with an awkward tumble down initial screens as opposed to heroic dives and elegant acrobatics. And getting caught in the blast radius of your dynamite is an inevitability. The goal is simple: Make the unfamiliar, familiar. Be mindful of your resources. Become a hero for those trapped below. And where H.E.R.O. excels in this tee-up is within the exciting push-pull dance of authored imprecision, firm rules and our place between them.
Acceleration is abrupt. Nearly too fast, even. Inching towards obstacles is a task more dangerous than making room for dynamite. And with full directional movement, the possibilities of where to go – and what to crash into – are endless. Pressing down on the up-directional of the controller to whirr your copter-pack to life is laborious, and each release of the control demands immediate press-down follow up to hold control over climb and descent as each passage grows ever-narrow. The repetition of the similarly-constructed chasms, with their multicoloured walls and environmental abstractions, dull out memorisation. The friction is subtle, as to not lean too far into imprecision and unfair design, and calculated enough so that a perfect run is lost to overconfidence and carelessness than at the hand of faulty programming. Maybe you forgot that a snake pops out of a specific wall just a few stages in. After that, maybe you misjudged how narrow the passage between two hazard walls were when falling down. Got a bit too confident with blasting bats right above lava? That will cost you if you get too close. It’s in that push-and-pull of the immovable and faultless game against the unrestricted, but fallible player where H.E.R.O. shines as a chase towards a perfect run. Learn the rules, throw yourself at them, and fail then overcome.