Today, Marc Host delves into the sheer visceral terror that is Pilotwings, bringing yesterday’s Mode 7 article full circle. A wide, spinny circle around a tiny landing pad whose surrounding environs grow rapidly larger with each passing moment oh god (boom)
Nitpick: “discrete” in sentence 3 should be “discreet”.
“Discrete” means singular or separated; “discreet” means judicious or circumspect.
(A few months back visiting family forced me to sit through an episode of The Apprentice. At one point judges chastised contestants for misspelling the word “discrete” in a brochure. The contestants’ use of “discreet” was in fact 100% correct.)
Er, sentence 4, that is.
On-topic: I could never finish either of the helicopter levels. I got through the last four training levels with a password, but could never get that far on my own; the ol’ one-hit-and-you’re-dead thing was just too tough.
(Was there ever any explanation for what a shady paramilitary organization was doing kidnapping flight instructors?)
So much of Pink Floyd would go well with Pilotwings, in particular the birdman free-roam levels.
Wonder how well your brother would do playing this one. Probably as much like really flying as Guitar Hero is to playing a guitar. Not that I have any experience with either of those of course. :)
Ah, I have so much nostalgia for both the Pilotwings games, even though in retrospect they’d be a lot more fun as pure sandbox games. When you’re actually trying to accomplish the objectives, they’re hellish.
The Pilotwings theme sounded very Sega-esque in its peppiness.
Also, the bee buzzing noise from Link to the Past reminded me of the Pilotwings pause jingle, which led me to think of those bees as little Pilotwings insects, heh durp.