Time for a pulp countdown now, and today it's my top 10 forgotten home microcomputers!
Let me just plug this tape recorder in and tune the TV set...
At #10: the 1982 Sharp X1! Possibly the most '80s looking 1980s computer ever created, it sold very well in Brazil. MSX really was the future once...
At #9: the 1982 Oric! rashed games more times than it loaded them and felt like typing on bubble wrap. Blakes 7 fans bought it because it sounded a bit like Orac...
At #8: the 1981 Texas Instruments TI-99/4A! This was basically bludgeoned to death by the VIC-20 in a ruthless price-cutting war, as payback for TI cornering the pocket calculator market in the 1970s and nearly bankrupting Commodore...
At #7: the 1978 Philips Videopac G7000! I know, I know, but it said it was a 'computer' on the box. Look, it's in big letters and everything...
At #6: the 1979 Luxor ABC 80! The most powerful computer ever made in Sweden...
At #5: the 1982 EG2000 Colour Genie. Dads with mullets thought it was like a Tandy CoCo. Kids knew it wasn't...
At #4: the 1983 Spectravideo SV-318 and SV-328. Said it was an MSX but wasn't really. Had a built-in joystick in the worst place ever for left handers. No software. No sales support. Even Roger Moore couldn't shift 'em...
At #3: the 1984 Oric Atmos! This was huge in Bulgaria I understand. Which is nice...
At #2: the 1984 Sinclair QL! "There's no comparison chart" because nobody had one delivered on time. Launched the term 'stringy floppies', which were as bad as they sounded...
And at #1: the 1983 Mattel Aquarius. From the makers of Barbie came the 'future proof' home computer, packing all the technology the mid-1970s had left behind.
It lasted 4 months before production ceased...
More tech from the World Of Tomorrow* anither time...
(*hours of business may vary)
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Given the current heatwave, I feel obliged to ask my favourite question: is it time to bring back the leisure suit?
Let's find out...
Now we all know what a man's lounge suit is, but if we're honest it can be a bit... stuffy. Formal. Businesslike. Not what you'd wear 'in da club' as the young folks say.
So for many years tailors have been experimenting with less formal, but still upmarket gents attire. The sort of garb you could wear for both a high level business meeting AND for listening to the Moody Blues in an espresso bar. Something versatile.
Today in pulp I look back at the publishing phenomenon of gamebooks: novels in which YOU are the hero!
A pencil and dice may be required for this thread...
Gamebooks are a simple but addictive concept: you control the narrative. At the end of each section of the story you are offered a choice of outcomes, and based on that you turn to the page indicated to see what happens next.
Gamebook plots are in fact complicated decision tree maps: one or more branches end in success, but many more end in failure! It's down to you to decide which path to tread.
He was the terror of London; a demonic figure with glowing eyes and fiery breath who could leap ten feet high. The penny dreadfuls of the time wrote up his exploits in lurid terms. But who was he really?
Today I look at one of the earliest pulp legends: Spring-Heeled Jack!
London has always attracted ghosts, and in the 19th Century they increasingly left their haunted houses and graveyards and began to wader the capital's streets.
But one apparition caught the Victorian public attention more than most...
In October 1837 a 'leaping character' with a look of the Devil began to prey on Londoners. Often he would leap high into the air and land in front of a carriage, causing it to crash. It would then flee with a high-pitched laugh.