
As Nadia pointed out in her post yesterday, April Fools' Day can be rough on gamers. And, having lived through over a decade with regular Internet access, I can attest to the fact that today is a very irritating day. No one can be trusted, nothing is as it seems, and may god help you if you actually have sincere or important news to deliver. Unfortunately, tragedy does not regard calendar dates; and when something bad happens on April 1st, it can be doubly depressing when you realize it's not part of this holiday's whimsy overload.
This was doubly true seven years ago today, when The Gaming Intelligence Agency breathed its last breath.
If you weren't familiar with The Gaming Intelligence agency, it was a fantastic, fan-run operation with a level of content comparable to the mega-sites of today. But back when The GIA launched in 1998, the world was a different place: no podcasts, no blogs, no social networking, and most importantly, no easy way for a gamer to stay informed. Big sites like IGN and Gamespot existed, but if you were a fan of obscure, quirky games, your only real options were random, hard-to-find websites full of dubious information that could go down at a moment's notice. The GIA served as the answer to this problem by being a one-stop-shop for gamers of a particular persuasion. It had all of the features of your modern mega-sites, but focused on a Japanese-centered brand of "intelligent" gaming written about by journalists who were as snarky as they were thoughtful. Like 1UP, The GIA was a site based around the personalities of its writers, and fostered a fantastic community because of this--but like a whole lot of websites that managed to survive the Internet bubble burst, The GIA couldn't survive for long.
I can thank The GIA for taking my interest in games journalism, and showing me that it could be a reality. I never worked for the site (something I seriously regret), but some of my first contacts in the world of games journalism came from The Gaming Intelligence Agency. If the site had been born and lived a little later, it could have probably survived--the nature of Web 2.0 shows that smaller, but comprehensive, sites like Giant Bomb can exist. But really, The GIA belongs in a very specific time period; one where gaming was still for geeks, where we had to huddle together for warmth and Contra codes.
Gaming Intelligence Agency, we miss you.
Related Links:
People Who Get It: Alex Kierkegaard
Kudos: Play Magazine’s Scoreless Reviews
1UP and the State of Games Journalism