"The Mother of All Shooters."

Long gone are the days of Street Fighter II, where the quarters jingled down the slots like so much gunfire in Iraq. Where lines of kids, long as boa snakes, waited patently for a chance to dance their fingers across the controls. Their hard earned paper-route money turned into so many shiny copper tokens: worthless to the outside world, but a King's ransom inside the walls of your local arcade.

And as that dough, earned from papers slung, was ultimately turned into Nintendos and a handful of Segas; all across the West the arcades emptied into nothing. They turned into Ghost-towns, tucked between the Gaps and Waldenbooks of the mall scene.

And lost are those early treasures of gaming glory. The Bad Dudes, the Double Dragons, the Mortal Combats, Xenophobes, and more. Lost to Samus and Mario and Sonic and Snake. Gathering dust like the board games before them.

But, there is still Galaga in all of its might. Galaga, you can find her in pizza places, here and there, near and far. Not tucked away, but smack dab up front, where kids of all ages still plug away at glory.

She is one of the few like Pacman and Centipede that can still reel them in. You can find her in country gas stations, where 30-something Farmers still shoot for the stars. And in your City vistas, where aging Hipsters and mewing fledglings still compete for the ever changing high score.

Galaga has grown into so much more than it was created for. In some ways, she is a revolution; in others, a dinosaur. But I say that after the neo-gaming industry has had its run. When the explosions calm and the smoke is cleared, when the newest, hottest Dooms and Halos are forgotten memories and waisted youth, there will still be a Galaga being played.

It is because she is one of the best. Not because she has stunning graphics or the most complex AI this side of SkyNet, but because she is Occam's razor. Right down to the bare bones: the simplest method is always the best! And that is Galaga: to a T.

As far as the story goes, I do not think there is a person alive that can tell you what it is or about. Of course, there are the speculations:

An Alien race is attacking Mother Earth, and you, a space fighter elite, must put an end to the madness.

Or...

A Civil war of epic proportions has erupted amongst the once peaceful, but technologically advanced, peoples of a distant galaxy.

But, in all honesty, I think the story is best left to the imagination. It's up to you to decide. All you really need to know is that it is you versus them, you versus me. In a race for points, and if you can not, will not, play absolutely top notch- your beloved quarters will suffer. Lord knows I had many-a-laundry day shot all to dust because of Galaga.

You command a tiny spaceship. At first you are armed with but a puny excuse for a space laser. Probably smallest pea-shooter in gaming history. Yet, you keep hoards of Alien scum at bay. They come at you in two's and three's. Sometimes there is a pattern, sometimes there is not. They'll dive at you in an attack formation and you'll lay into them with laser fire. Your fingers getting more and more tired by the shot. Then they'll break into pairs, or fly off by themselves, with long sweeping arcs: circling on and off the screen. One touch equals death, and they'll try their very best to turn you into space gas.

Galaga is the mother of all shooters. The first chapter in the long book of gaming evolution. But all the basics are the same. Your reflexes must be honed to perfection, you concentration must be the stuff that Zen Masters strive for. They come at you so very slow at first and you balk and scoff at the competition. But the more the game opens up, the faster they come. The more ships in their fleet. Diving in and out, up and down.

They seem to have vessels every color of the rainbow, and their variety is astounding. These are nightmare creatures: some look like giant bugs and they crawl at you like hungry spiders after flies. They bob and they weave and they rain the bullets from the skies.

There will be enemies that actually attempt to nab your ship. They turn over on their bellies and fire their tractor beams. If you are hit, your ship will be spirited away. You may lose a life, but not if you play your cards right. The captured ship will float along side its captor. He is teasing you, he wants you to make the first move, but be quick, because if you don't, he will. With your next life, if you place a carefully aimed shot just so, you can blow that jerk asunder and your old ship will float down to safety.

You'll latch on and have double the fire power than you did before. Double the energy too! Not one hit, but two. This is the closest thing you'll ever get to an upgrade in Galaga. But be careful space ranger. One misplaced shot and your attempted rescue turns to bloody hell. Your old life, felled in friendly fire. Alas, there is no harder way to go.

And as far as technique goes, they are as infinite as the stars. However, there is an almost unreachable pattern that can propel you to the status of Kings, but I have only seen one kid able to master it. He was the greatest player I have ever seen. I saw the pattern, I watched him closely, but it was something I could not repeat. I only mention it here to you now, because it will give you hope in your times of need. When that Alien scum is on you like a Doctor's bill, you'll be reaching for that pattern. It is possible to reach beyond the unreachable in Galaga, For me that kid was proof positive: it has been done before and it can be done again. Quite possibly by you.

As you progress, tumbling forever up the screen in a perpetual battle with the Y-axis, you will rank up. And the enemy will attack with more gusto, his guts filled with vinegar and cruel intentions, but if you have sand, you can pull off amazing moves. Reach for that high score, earn that extra guy-- keep your quarter alive for as long as possible.

If you do, they will come. The crowds of old and young will form around you like cold travelers around a hearth. Their energy will press you to perform better and better until even you are surprised by your skills.

You will not be troubled by her graphics. They don't stack up to today's budget busting CG shots, or cell shaded deep movers, but they are timeless. For the gaming industry, these graphics are Mona Lisas while everything else is just more cheap porn. She is nothing but the infinite blackness of space, and you're nothing but a tiny ship, against a background of speckled stars.

And the only music you'll ever hear is to signal victory and defeat. Tunes that send shivers up your spine will sing of your ascent into the hall of fame, or your descent into your pockets for more loose change. During the action, all that you'll get is the ping-pang of rapid laser fire, the tapping of the button and the snapping of your tendons as they slowly give way to the speed.

You'll hear the gasps of air from the crowd around as you dive just out of harm's way. But you will not be dazzled by a tremendous Hollywood score. What you get is enough. It is all that you need. For it is essential that your concentration not be taken up by any long pretentious scores. It must be undivided, full and intent on gaining speed through the countless leagues of space.

You will come back for more and more and it will not cost you a fortune. I've never seen Galaga cost more than a quarter, and be thankful Daddy, because you'll need the cheap practice. She is no slouch, this Galaga.

She is the game that inspired countless imitators from Galaxy to Quake. She is the first and the last, for me there is no other. They have come and they have gone; some in clouds of prophet, others on the fringe of success, but for me, there is and always shall be Galaga. There is only a little white ship, space-whirling against impossible odds, and the sweat that will pour off your brow.

Reviewer's Score: 10/10, Originally Posted: 12/03/04