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Man, I hope it's as good as the comic book.

... with any luck, it'll be every bit as good as the comic book.

If this turns out to be anything like the comic book, I'd be worried. Very worried.

... it'll be every bit as good as the comic book.

Let's not forget the Doom comic book. It's a good thing Doom guy is silent in the games and not treating us to his insanely lame brand of Duke Nukem style commentary.

And besides, if you play multiplayer you have people to talk to. If you play singleplayer you might find yourself going insane and giving yourself a running commentary on your adventure, as in the Doom Comic Book

And of course, don't forget the DOOM comic!

Here's a good article on the technology behind Doom 3.

Essentially, it's geared towards a technology set that's already fairly well established. It relies heavily on normal mapping to produce seemingly high-polygon models when they're actually quite low-polygon. This is all done in OpenGL and not DirectX. Personally, I think it speaks highly of the ID developers that they can make an engine that looks so good on so many PCs.

Refer to this article for more information about the engine.

10 Years of Doom

Ten years ago on December 10th, 1993, id Software released the Doom shareware, forever changing the world of PC games. Doom pretty much defined the very young first person shooter genera, and set the bar for future games to come. With immersive, colorful levels, deadly enemies and some of the greatest gameplay any game has ever seen, Doom can be best described as nothing short of a masterpiece. Even to this day it is still cited as one of the best and most signifigant games made.

From looking at the Doom Bible, it looks like DOOM 3 is going to be a hell of a lot closer to Tom's original vision than DOOM1/DOOM2 ever was. I wonder what the hell the Hand of Lothar will be used for?

Somebody better tell the US government there's flaming skull guys floating around too (and they look like they're up to no good).

And I certainly don't want to store it in a closet somewhere and have to lug it out and wire it up just to play some Doom or SimCity 2000 (my favorite DOS games).

There are plenty of source ports of Doom to modern operating systems. Besides running on both Linux and Windows, ZDoom also offers high resolutions and Quake-style key bindings. I highly recommend it.

The Doom community is still alive and kicking after ten years. Try Doomworld and my favorite, Doom newsgroups.

This better not be anything like the Doom comic in quality.

And what about Doom, the greatest game of all time?

ZDoom source port
Doomworld
Usenet group
my Doom site

Give Freedoom a go - the PrBoom port runs on Linux and supports multiplayer. Not all the freedoom levels support deathmatch yet but theres a huge archive of deathmatch wads you can play under it instead.

Yah, but remember that they also made a game where you went to Hell, so spinning PoPs are not far from that.

Doomworld still has some pretty usefull stuff up from their last celebration, five years ago. 5 Years of Doom is still a pretty interesting read.

Not Ruby, but I'm working on a Python library for Doom called Omgifol in which I recently implemented a complete API for editing levels (the version on SF is quite outdated, though, nothing to see there).

I don't know how useful the level editing features of the thing will end up being, but I have some ideas of making a random level generator similar to Slige with it. Using a language as powerful as Python, it should hopefully be possible to create stuff more advanced than Slige's linearly arranged square sectors ;-)

Its been done for Doom at least. SLIGE is a tool of the Zionist American pigs for generating random levels.

Haven't given the game a chance? Then do so!

Wolfenstein 3D and Doom have active communities based around the release of the source code. I'm not quite sure of where to go for some Wolf 3D modifications that will run on Windows, there's a whole list of source modifcations here... some of them change the behaviour of the game substantially, but there are modifications out there like PRBoom that aim to keep maximum compatibility with the original EXEs.

I don't know, I think it's pretty cool to be able to do this at smooth frame rates.

Compared to what you were doing on your 486.

The porn is much better now too.

God, I hope you were being sarcastic...

There are already posts compaining about releasing the source for an outdated game. I'd say take a look at what happened to DooM since the source release...

A number of new ports for a variety of platforms. Ports that improve the engine, as well as those that add eye candy.

Nothing but good can come of this!

I found this in the Doomworld fan-fiction forum:

A crackling ball of lightning caught Taylor's shoulder as he took a rolling dive across the ground in front of the tall pillars that stood guard in front of the compound that looked for all the world like a human skull. The structure was impossibly large, embedded into the volcanic surface of Hell. The all-too-familiar bloated red gasballs that floated across the bloodied battlefield drew a curse, and he put away the shotgun and grasped the chaingun that had become his trusted ally against the quickly approaching airborne menace. They moved faster than they looked capable of; that he had learned, and there would not be much time left before he would have to engage them in closer quarters.

He stood up, snarling wordlessly. The chaingun slung under an arm spat controlled fire. He had to deflate as many of the incoming fiends as he possibly could, while dodging or trying to absorb the vicious waves of charged projectiles. It was going to be close, he saw, because he was starting to run low on ammo, while the wave of cacodemons still looked close to endless. At last his chaingun spun empty, and he threw the useless weapon to the ground and drew the chainsaw, darting in to a turned floating head and daring to hold the chainsaw to the demon as it ripped through the thick hide that held the demons' coherence. In, and out ... in, and out, and the dead cacodemons piled up around him until at last, some minutes later that might as well have been hours later, he stood alone and unchallenged amongst the strewn bodies of his enemies.

Then he staggered, uncertain, and had to clutch one of the tall pillars that rose claw-like to the sky to keep himself from collapsing to the ground. He knew that he had taken serious injuries: his hand came away bloody as he wiped sweat from his forehead, and a sharp insistent pain in his midsection told him that he had used up all of his luck.

He looked to the backpack he had shrugged loose to the ground before he began this fight, and half-crawled, half-walked to it, seeking out that one package of last resort. The supply officer had issued him, and every one of the other marines, a dire warning on the use of the berserker pack. The ampoules contained within had the power, when combined, to start triggering all sorts of physiological effects, both desired and adverse. He had become well familiar with the red haze that would fall over his vision, that rush of strength and sense of power it imparted, and the insanely fast healing that would take place as the medicine coursed through his body. He would need all of it now, he thought, as he stared at the imposing building in front of him.

Taylor flung open the top of the pack and pulled out handfuls of ampoules, spreading them out on the ground. He glanced at the labels on the vials as he removed the hypodermic syringe from its pouch in the lid. Lidocaine. Benzedrine. Psylocin. Morphedenol. One by one he inserted them into the syringe, guiding with trembling hands the targeting probe over the pulsing vein below his bicep. As the clear liquids drained into his bloodstream he felt his muscles tightening, his sinews becoming taut. His heart beat furiously, and a strange sense of peace momently flooded through Taylor's body, before he felt the berserk beginning to kick in. It started at the tips of his fingers and toes, the tingling hypersensitivity of awakened nerve endings spreading up through his limbs, up his chest, until he could almost feel it welling up inside his brain, as the throes of the sudden fury rose like mercury to the top of his skull, almost as if it was ready to pop like a thermometer pushed beyond its limits. There was no more pain now, or perhaps there was nothing but pain -- there was no difference. He wasn't a human, he wasn't a mortal frail being broken and bleeding, he was a god, an angel of death, an unstoppable force against whom even the Devil himself would soon cower.

Rising to his feet, first unsteadily, but then with growing skill and ease, Taylor took a quick survey of his numerous injuries. Turning his bloodshot eyes towards the enormous deaths-head before him, then began to limp, then walk, then run, then sprint, into its gaping maw. He had left his provisions behind. He didn't need them; an empty chaingun and a near-broken chainsaw were worthless now. His vision warped and blurred as he leaped over the enormous statue's teeth, racing down into its gullet. Imps! Twenty, no, twenty-four of them, were perched inside, waiting for him, beckoning for his approach. With magical gestures, clouds of flame began springing forth from their outstretched hands, but Taylor was too quick for them, jumping and diving and weaving through the balls of fire, like an unstoppable juggernaut. His clenched fist, made of tempered steel, weighing a thousand pounds but light as a feather, hung back as he raced to meet the first of the creatures, before whipping forward, driving right through the ugly beast's head, blood and brain exploding from the imp's face as it flew back ten feet. More fire, more flame. The imps cackled and screamed, Taylor spun like a whirling dervish, the inertia of his fists never subsiding, connecting with jaws and eye sockets and horns, cracking and ripping and shattering the demon's vile forms, the rakes of their claws mere tickles. The two dozen imps quickly were reduced to piles on the floor, and for the first time in what seemed like hours Taylor inhaled, the red haze in his vision diminishing a shade, as the amorphous forms around him congealed into definite shapes, and he saw one last imp before him, cowering behind a pillar.

Momentarily confused, he stood there and stared through the bloody haze that clouded his vision at the lone imp that hid, crouching, behind the pillar that held at its tip a still-beating heart, and wondering why he had not killed it already, with the rest. Suddenly his breath caught, and he realized with his heightened sense of smell that the horned creature there was female, seeing also for the first time, at the same time, the small rounded breasts tipped not by wickedly sharp bone but by rounded nubs of calcified deposits, that all the angles of the male imp form softened into a feminine shape, and he was so gloriously aware that it was female. He realized that the magnificent creature that was attempting to hide from his fury was frightened of him, and hot blood coursed through his body, arousing him. Hardly believing what he was doing, he stepped towards the imp, which looked to be of an age that he thought no more than just into full adulthood. In shock, responding purely to his instinctual hormonal desires, he pulled the imp to her clawed feet and, as she stoodhere trembling, his roving hungry gaze crawled up one side of her leathery body and down the other, drinking in what his eyes beheld.

Tightly grasping the she-imp by the shoulders, he spun her around, flinging her against the uneven wall. Through the rough, cobbled surface of her skin, he could feel the spiked protrusions scraping against the wall as the imp struggled slightly against his mighty grip. His glance darted between the imp's eight spiderlike eyes, pure black, reminding him of pools of still water. The imp stared back at him, panting heavily, jerking unsuccessfully against the iron grip of the marine, seeming to wonder why she was not yet dead. Taylor could tell that the imp was scared. It was a expression he'd seen countless times from the dim eyes of every demon or zombie he'd slaughtered, the haze lifting a split second before they expired, when the grim realization of their impending death momentarily vaulted their conciousness out of the fog of their decaying brains. But this one was different.

His vision pumped red with every heartbeat. For endless months he'd battled the spawns of Hell, with no more human contact than the occasional corpse. For months he had been alone, desperately alone; it was not the thought of death which filled his mind with terror in the quiet hours, for he'd long expected to die. Instead it was the thought that he would never again connect with another human being, another sentient creature. For what seemed like forever he'd only communed with the demons of Hell, and even their vain attempts to destroy him could have held solace if he'd detected a note of real intelligence behind their actions instead of the puppetry of a distant power, animating their flesh with the merest semblance of order needed for action. But in this imp that he held here, he detected -- he thought he detected -- a gleam of real intelligence, if not of a soul then whatever passed for such a thing down here in Hell. Could he connect with this imp? With this- female? His fingers dug into the thick hide of the creature, which snarled with anewed fear and rage. Taylor relished the moment. Here was another real living thing, not just an avatar, but something that he could almost feel thinking, neuronal impulses somehow sparking inside that demon head of hers.

He couldn't pass the opportunity. How long had it been now? Months? Years? He faintly recalled the last time, the quick breathing, flesh pressing together, grunts and moans. He'd never quite resigned himself to the thought that he'd never experience it again, but here was a creature -- a woman? -- that seemed real to him. Or, at least, real. Moving one hand over her throat, he began shrugging off the outer layer of his combat armor.

Yet, in the back of his mind, the last remaining small shred of rationality told him that his steady stream of thoughts were nothing but small justification for what he was about to do. He was about to enjoy what he had not for so long, as the chemicals and hormones coursing through his body have left him no choice but to do. He could not stop now, no more than he could have stopped killing the group of imps just moments earlier that now lay dead at his feet. That his intended victim wasn't even human was nothing more than a vague passing concern as his sanity's last gasp fled in the face of the chemical-induced berserk state and he pressed himself against the imp.

She sensed his intent, and redoubled her attempts to struggle against Taylor's hot body. Her claws flicked in and out of their sheaths at her fingertips as she fought him with renewed vigor. But under the influence of the berserker pack, he was too strong, too fast, too determined to let her push him away. His arms suffered numerous scores, all of which were ignored as he pressed the imp's arms out to either side and held them down. She snarled and bit at him but he held his face away from her jaw. He bent his head towards the swell of her breasts and started licking at her pebbled skin. It was not soft like the skin of the women he'd been with before, in what seemed like a past life now, but at this moment he did not care--indeed, at this point her skin might well have been the smoothest silk.

Straightening up again, he began unbuckling his belt, the berserker drugs doing nothing to stop the trembling in his fingers, trembling not born of pain or injury but of excitement and lust. He fumbled with the zipper and soon his combat-issue pants were around his ankles. He stood there, a grotesque spectacle, pressing the imp against the rock with one hand, his own marine flag standing at full salute. He grabbed the imp's wrist and pressed it above her head, her struggles not as resolute as before, and slid his tongue around and around what passed for her right nipple. He felt the imp shudder slightly, and flung her down onto the warm stone floor, straddling her as he took in her full form.

He bent over her momentarily stunned form and quickly slid his erect cock into the imp's cunt. The walls of her pussy were tight, but he soon achieved a rhythmic pounding motion. The ineffectual struggling the imp put up soon began to stop, and she began responding to his sexual assault. Her unblinking cluster of eyes turnereflection of his carnal desire their depths. The claws in her fingertips retracted as he released his hold on her arms, and she seemed to smile up at him, forcing a rictus grin on to her face that it was never built to hold. She grasped him with her hands, supporting his torso on either side, and then holding them behind his back to push him in her harder. He lost himself even further in the violent pangs of animal passion.

The couple adjusted their positions, rolling Taylor to the ground as the imp sat astride him. She propped up her body by splaying her arms to the sides as she started sliding herself up and down Taylor's slick shaft. As he felt himself coming closer and closer to the edge, he grabbed the imp's waist and started adding his own thrusting and pumping to her own efforts.

With one final thrust Taylor felt himself reach the brink, and as climax bore down on him the red haze returned. The contractions rippled through his body and he thought of what brought him here, the billions dead, the fierce battles that raged around him day after day, the blood and pus and bile that had soaked his clothes for months as he battled an endless army in the most horrible place imaginable. This creature was one of them, this imp that he had been drawn in by, and as he looked up at her once more, no longer did he see a fellow living being, but another cog in the enormous demonic machine that was responsible for all the evil in the world. As the final spasms washed through him, his lust was displaced by a incredible disgust and hatred, hatred towards this... thing on top of him, as well as for what he was doing. The creature looked down at him, not understanding, and with deliberate speed he reached up and wrenched its head a full 180 degrees, a sickening series of crunches affirming that the creature was now dead. He pushed the beat off of him and gasped for air. He needed to pull himself together. He needed to keep moving. He had a long way to go.

I found this in the Doomworld fan-fiction forum:

A crackling ball of lightning caught Taylor's shoulder as he took a rolling dive across the ground in front of the tall pillars that stood guard in front of the compound that looked for all the world like a human skull. The structure was impossibly large, embedded into the volcanic surface of Hell. The all-too-familiar bloated red gasballs that floated across the bloodied battlefield drew a curse, and he put away the shotgun and grasped the chaingun that had become his trusted ally against the quickly approaching airborne menace. They moved faster than they looked capable of; that he had learned, and there would not be much time left before he would have to engage them in closer quarters.

He stood up, snarling wordlessly. The chaingun slung under an arm spat controlled fire. He had to deflate as many of the incoming fiends as he possibly could, while dodging or trying to absorb the vicious waves of charged projectiles. It was going to be close, he saw, because he was starting to run low on ammo, while the wave of cacodemons still looked close to endless. At last his chaingun spun empty, and he threw the useless weapon to the ground and drew the chainsaw, darting in to a turned floating head and daring to hold the chainsaw to the demon as it ripped through the thick hide that held the demons' coherence. In, and out ... in, and out, and the dead cacodemons piled up around him until at last, some minutes later that might as well have been hours later, he stood alone and unchallenged amongst the strewn bodies of his enemies.

Then he staggered, uncertain, and had to clutch one of the tall pillars that rose claw-like to the sky to keep himself from collapsing to the ground. He knew that he had taken serious injuries: his hand came away bloody as he wiped sweat from his forehead, and a sharp insistent pain in his midsection told him that he had used up all of his luck.

He looked to the backpack he had shrugged loose to the ground before he began this fight, and half-crawled, half-walked to it, seeking out that one package of last resort. The supply officer had issued him, and every one of the other marines, a dire warning on the use of the berserker pack. The ampoules contained within had the power, when combined, to start triggering all sorts of physiological effects, both desired and adverse. He had become well familiar with the red haze that would fall over his vision, that rush of strength and sense of power it imparted, and the insanely fast healing that would take place as the medicine coursed through his body. He would need all of it now, he thought, as he stared at the imposing building in front of him.

Taylor flung open the top of the pack and pulled out handfuls of ampoules, spreading them out on the ground. He glanced at the labels on the vials as he removed the hypodermic syringe from its pouch in the lid. Lidocaine. Benzedrine. Psylocin. Morphedenol. One by one he inserted them into the syringe, guiding with trembling hands the targeting probe over the pulsing vein below his bicep. As the clear liquids drained into his bloodstream he felt his muscles tightening, his sinews becoming taut. His heart beat furiously, and a strange sense of peace momently flooded through Taylor's body, before he felt the berserk beginning to kick in. It started at the tips of his fingers and toes, the tingling hypersensitivity of awakened nerve endings spreading up through his limbs, up his chest, until he could almost feel it welling up inside his brain, as the throes of the sudden fury rose like mercury to the top of his skull, almost as if it was ready to pop like a thermometer pushed beyond its limits. There was no more pain now, or perhaps there was nothing but pain -- there was no difference. He wasn't a human, he wasn't a mortal frail being broken and bleeding, he was a god, an angel of death, an unstoppable force against whom even the Devil himself would soon cower.

Rising to his feet, first unsteadily, but then with growing skill and ease, Taylor took a quick survey of his numerous injuries. Turning his bloodshot eyes towards the enormous deaths-head before him, then began to limp, then walk, then run, then sprint, into its gaping maw. He had left his provisions behind. He didn't need them; an empty chaingun and a near-broken chainsaw were worthless now. His vision warped and blurred as he leaped over the enormous statue's teeth, racing down into its gullet. Imps! Twenty, no, twenty-four of them, were perched inside, waiting for him, beckoning for his approach. With magical gestures, clouds of flame began springing forth from their outstretched hands, but Taylor was too quick for them, jumping and diving and weaving through the balls of fire, like an unstoppable juggernaut. His clenched fist, made of tempered steel, weighing a thousand pounds but light as a feather, hung back as he raced to meet the first of the creatures, before whipping forward, driving right through the ugly beast's head, blood and brain exploding from the imp's face as it flew back ten feet. More fire, more flame. The imps cackled and screamed, Taylor spun like a whirling dervish, the inertia of his fists never subsiding, connecting with jaws and eye sockets and horns, cracking and ripping and shattering the demon's vile forms, the rakes of their claws mere tickles. The two dozen imps quickly were reduced to piles on the floor, and for the first time in what seemed like hours Taylor inhaled, the red haze in his vision diminishing a shade, as the amorphous forms around him congealed into definite shapes, and he saw one last imp before him, cowering behind a pillar.

Momentarily confused, he stood there and stared through the bloody haze that clouded his vision at the lone imp that hid, crouching, behind the pillar that held at its tip a still-beating heart, and wondering why he had not killed it already, with the rest. Suddenly his breath caught, and he realized with his heightened sense of smell that the horned creature there was female, seeing also for the first time, at the same time, the small rounded breasts tipped not by wickedly sharp bone but by rounded nubs of calcified deposits, that all the angles of the male imp form softened into a feminine shape, and he was so gloriously aware that it was female. He realized that the magnificent creature that was attempting to hide from his fury was frightened of him, and hot blood coursed through his body, arousing him. Hardly believing what he was doing, he stepped towards the imp, which looked to be of an age that he thought no more than just into full adulthood. In shock, responding purely to his instinctual hormonal desires, he pulled the imp to her clawed feet and, as she stoodhere trembling, his roving hungry gaze crawled up one side of her leathery body and down the other, drinking in what his eyes beheld.

Tightly grasping the she-imp by the shoulders, he spun her around, flinging her against the uneven wall. Through the rough, cobbled surface of her skin, he could feel the spiked protrusions scraping against the wall as the imp struggled slightly against his mighty grip. His glance darted between the imp's eight spiderlike eyes, pure black, reminding him of pools of still water. The imp stared back at him, panting heavily, jerking unsuccessfully against the iron grip of the marine, seeming to wonder why she was not yet dead. Taylor could tell that the imp was scared. It was a expression he'd seen countless times from the dim eyes of every demon or zombie he'd slaughtered, the haze lifting a split second before they expired, when the grim realization of their impending death momentarily vaulted their conciousness out of the fog of their decaying brains. But this one was different.

His vision pumped red with every heartbeat. For endless months he'd battled the spawns of Hell, with no more human contact than the occasional corpse. For months he had been alone, desperately alone; it was not the thought of death which filled his mind with terror in the quiet hours, for he'd long expected to die. Instead it was the thought that he would never again connect with another human being, another sentient creature. For what seemed like forever he'd only communed with the demons of Hell, and even their vain attempts to destroy him could have held solace if he'd detected a note of real intelligence behind their actions instead of the puppetry of a distant power, animating their flesh with the merest semblance of order needed for action. But in this imp that he held here, he detected -- he thought he detected -- a gleam of real intelligence, if not of a soul then whatever passed for such a thing down here in Hell. Could he connect with this imp? With this- female? His fingers dug into the thick hide of the creature, which snarled with anewed fear and rage. Taylor relished the moment. Here was another real living thing, not just an avatar, but something that he could almost feel thinking, neuronal impulses somehow sparking inside that demon head of hers.

He couldn't pass the opportunity. How long had it been now? Months? Years? He faintly recalled the last time, the quick breathing, flesh pressing together, grunts and moans. He'd never quite resigned himself to the thought that he'd never experience it again, but here was a creature -- a woman? -- that seemed real to him. Or, at least, real. Moving one hand over her throat, he began shrugging off the outer layer of his combat armor.

Yet, in the back of his mind, the last remaining small shred of rationality told him that his steady stream of thoughts were nothing but small justification for what he was about to do. He was about to enjoy what he had not for so long, as the chemicals and hormones coursing through his body have left him no choice but to do. He could not stop now, no more than he could have stopped killing the group of imps just moments earlier that now lay dead at his feet. That his intended victim wasn't even human was nothing more than a vague passing concern as his sanity's last gasp fled in the face of the chemical-induced berserk state and he pressed himself against the imp.

She sensed his intent, and redoubled her attempts to struggle against Taylor's hot body. Her claws flicked in and out of their sheaths at her fingertips as she fought him with renewed vigor. But under the influence of the berserker pack, he was too strong, too fast, too determined to let her push him away. His arms suffered numerous scores, all of which were ignored as he pressed the imp's arms out to either side and held them down. She snarled and bit at him but he held his face away from her jaw. He bent his head towards the swell of her breasts and started licking at her pebbled skin. It was not soft like the skin of the women he'd been with before, in what seemed like a past life now, but at this moment he did not care--indeed, at this point her skin might well have been the smoothest silk.

Straightening up again, he began unbuckling his belt, the berserker drugs doing nothing to stop the trembling in his fingers, trembling not born of pain or injury but of excitement and lust. He fumbled with the zipper and soon his combat-issue pants were around his ankles. He stood there, a grotesque spectacle, pressing the imp against the rock with one hand, his own marine flag standing at full salute. He grabbed the imp's wrist and pressed it above her head, her struggles not as resolute as before, and slid his tongue around and around what passed for her right nipple. He felt the imp shudder slightly, and flung her down onto the warm stone floor, straddling her as he took in her full form.

He bent over her momentarily stunned form and quickly slid his erect cock into the imp's cunt. The walls of her pussy were tight, but he soon achieved a rhythmic pounding motion. The ineffectual struggling the imp put up soon began to stop, and she began responding to his sexual assault. Her unblinking cluster of eyes turnereflection of his carnal desire their depths. The claws in her fingertips retracted as he released his hold on her arms, and she seemed to smile up at him, forcing a rictus grin on to her face that it was never built to hold. She grasped him with her hands, supporting his torso on either side, and then holding them behind his back to push him in her harder. He lost himself even further in the violent pangs of animal passion.

The couple adjusted their positions, rolling Taylor to the ground as the imp sat astride him. She propped up her body by splaying her arms to the sides as she started sliding herself up and down Taylor's slick shaft. As he felt himself coming closer and closer to the edge, he grabbed the imp's waist and started adding his own thrusting and pumping to her own efforts.

With one final thrust Taylor felt himself reach the brink, and as climax bore down on him the red haze returned. The contractions rippled through his body and he thought of what brought him here, the billions dead, the fierce battles that raged around him day after day, the blood and pus and bile that had soaked his clothes for months as he battled an endless army in the most horrible place imaginable. This creature was one of them, this imp that he had been drawn in by, and as he looked up at her once more, no longer did he see a fellow living being, but another cog in the enormous demonic machine that was responsible for all the evil in the world. As the final spasms washed through him, his lust was displaced by a incredible disgust and hatred, hatred towards this... thing on top of him, as well as for what he was doing. The creature looked down at him, not understanding, and with deliberate speed he reached up and wrenched its head a full 180 degrees, a sickening series of crunches affirming that the creature was now dead. He pushed the beat off of him and gasped for air. He needed to pull himself together. He needed to keep moving. He had a long way to go.

December 10, 1993 to be exact. I sat in a friend's basement downloading it via zmodem via a "borrowed" mainframe connection via ftp from somewhere. The internet crawled that day. My ass still hurts from the marathon session we put in...

Legacy has a different scripting system to ZDoom so the helms deep wad wouldnt run under it. You could probably try ZDoomGL, though.

Anyone know where I can get MP3s for the Doom soundtracks?

You can get midis and MP2s here.
(The links in the "Level" column take you to the MP2 files at 3ddownloads.)
The blurb at the top of the page tells how you can also buy a CD of the music.

For a /. readers OS, I'd recommend PrBoom . For windows, you'd have to go with WinDoom . Of course you have to have the wad files, but I'm sure if your asking how to run it you've allready got those right.........

Does anyone know if the beta and alpha versions had any features that were cut out of the final version of Doom?

Here's the Doom Bible (and PDF version)... it seems to detail lots of stuff that was planned but didn't make it in.

Does anyone know if the beta and alpha versions had any features that were cut out of the final version of Doom?

Here's the Doom Bible (and PDF version)... it seems to detail lots of stuff that was planned but didn't make it in.

Hey Mr Carmac. Troll, look, you're famous!

I never knew restrooms could be dangerous places.

What, you mean like Doom3D or DoomGL?

What, you mean like Doom3D or DoomGL?

Often the free software development model is criticized for simply rebuilding what has been done already. And I feel that the release of the Quake engines and DooM engines have exemplified this very inadequacy.

I had hoped that we would see some really brilliant things come out of the GPL releases of these codebases, and, in reality some very good, cleaned-up clients have been developed. I certainly enjoy the mouselook, higher resolutions, and enhanced levels that have been developed from the DooM engine (see DooMWorld to see the kind of stuff that's out there). The improved QuakeWorld client I'm aware of is pretty nice. And Q^2 has a good Quake 2 client.

But these are just the obvious extensions of what was already done. The community now has (for the most part) all the source and tools that went into making Half-Life, the most successful game to come out of all of these codebases. Yet, to my knowledge, no project has arisen from the community to mold the next such game. How about another story-driven game that people would compare to Deus Ex? Or an all-out action game in the same vein as Soldier of Fortune? Or how about a freaking free software teamplay game that we compare to Counterstrike so that Linux users can play a team-oriented online FPS using free software only and not rely on WINE or WINEX? Or meld two free software projects and connect a Z-machine interpreter with the Quake engine and make a text-command driven story with a 3D view of the action?

These are things that would demonstrate just how momentous and visionary the release of the Quake source under the GPL was. Yet, all the community has managed to come up with is Quake++.

People slam my posts for being negative lately. That I'm ripping on people that have done good work. That's fine, I've got the skin for it. (Try USENET...) I admit that some really find refactoring and coding has gone into redoing the Linux Quake clients. But really, I hear plenty of bitching about how Linux (and other free OS) don't have good games and don't get the attention of the big game companies. Yet, when empowered to do new and exciting things and to make your own games, the group is content to simply recompile Quake for the Zaurus and call it a day. That's good work, for sure, but it's not the kind of work that's going to move free software forward and make it the kind of interesting world that non-free software people take a real interest in.

Again, I'm not making a judgment about the quality of the work that has been done. It's great. But now that you have the best raw materials from John Carmack, can we see real creativity out of the free software gaming world? (FWIW, I think CrystalSpace has done a good job of attracting some interesting new development.)

There's some pictures here and more rumours here

Doom took a year? If I remember correctly, Doom was about a year late when it came out...am I wrong?

I believe so. The original design document (pdf) for Doom is dated 11/28/92. The release date was 12/10/93.

Obviously work was started before the design document was finished, but as you can tell by perusing it, the game was still being sketched out at the end of November, 1992. Several reports say that iD began Doom only after the Wolf 3D expansion Spear of Destiny was released, which was September, 1992. So, if we take that as the start date, it looks like about 15 months.

As for an iD game being a year late, I'm not sure, but you may be thinking of Quake 1?

Sounds like Carmack's approach paid off for you. I suggest it is you that needs to look closer however and find out a bit more about what you're talking about in regards to Doom 3 and its approach to character rendering. Section 4.7 (subsection 7 of section 4) of the unnofical Doom 3 FAQ has some speculation and third hand info on the subject that might be of interest to you. Doom 3 FAQ: What sort of engine will Doom 3 use? I'll try to dig up Carmack's quotes on the subject as well. Suffice to say he has been careful to point out that Doom 3 makes heavy use of bump maps.

Take a look at the areas of the high rez screens I've conveniently circled for you here. Note the rather obvious poly edges. Note that the apparent frontal detail of characters does not generally show up on edges, indicating the geometry is not actually present on the in game model. You see what appears to be unbelievable detail on any camera facing surface, but on the edges of the model it is quite obvious it does not have that level of detail. If you don't see it now, you're beyond help.

Granted, much of the detail is actual in game geometry, but what's really selling the effect is the texture maps, bump maps, and lighting. I'd be willing to bet the models aren't any more high poly than Soldier of Fortune II, but they sure look better, eh? There's no denying there's a poly increase from previous iD games, but it takes a back seat to the lighting and shading technology. And while i don't expect a 10x increase in poly count, 2x would be nice given how good the rest of everything looks.

- JavaJones

Also, for more mirrors:

http://www.doomworld.com

Anybody else remember the Doom II Aliens total conversion?

Well, it originally came out for the original Doom. When Doom II came out, someone kindly hacked the files about so they'd work with the new game.

Incidentally, if anyone feels like giving it a spin for old time's sake and has a copy of the DOOM wad files, go to Doomworld and download an OpenGL-enabled version of Doom, grab a copy of Aliens TC that's been modified to work with modern versions of Doom and let her rip :P

I still tip my hat off to those copyright infringing guys.

The term "foxed" was coined when Fox shut down the Alien Quake project. :/ Somehow, Aliens TC for Doom has managed to survive without any action being taken.

From Doomworld -- Interviews:

The newest hire at the id Software, Fredrik L. Nilsson hails from Sweden ...

... In 1995 I moved to the San Francisco area and was hired by Pacific Data Images (PDI) as a character animator. Some of the projects I worked on while there are:

• ...
• Antz (I animated nearly 5 minutes)
• Shrek (Upcoming movie in May 2001)

Someone who teaches at a Middle School in Safety Harbor, Florida forwarded the following letter.
The letter was sent to the principal's office after the school had sponsored a luncheon for the elderly. An old lady received a new radio at the lunch, and was writing to say thanks.


Dear Safety Harbor Middle School:

I know God blesses you for the beautiful radio I won at your recent Senior citizens luncheon. I am 84 years old and live at the Safety Harbor Assisted Home for the Aged. All of my family has passed away. I am all alone now and it's nice to know that someone is thinking of me. God bless you for your kindness to an old forgotten lady.

My roommate is 95 and always had her own radio, but before I received One she would never let me listen to hers, even when she was napping. The other day her radio fell off the nightstand and broke into a lot of pieces. It was awful and she was in tears. She asked if she could listen to mine, and I said fuck you. Thank you again,

Sincerely,

Edna



Moderation Totals: Offtopic=377, Flamebait=4, Troll=27, Redundant=5, Insightful=98, Interesting=205, Informative=49, Funny=12, Overrated=11, Underrated=62, Total=850.



Sindome is ok and so are you, man. I hope you have a great day. Say hi to the trolls for me!

It is DoomEd.
See here

Other than the highly suspect grammar, the strange non-sequiteurs and exclamations ("He's alive!!!"), the bulleted list of DOOM levels and what looks like verbatim transcripts from the game documentation, was there really enough meat on this for even a mediocre slashdot news story, you think?

Must be a slow day. Having read the HTML versions of the 'article', I must say I wasn't particularly inclined to download the 3.6 megabyte Microsoft Word document, though I assume I'd be rewarded with some BMP screenshots to go with the text.

To the author. If you had to publish this as non-HTML document, you could and should have used Adobe Acrobat instead of Mickysoft Word.

If you wanted to make a list of DOOM ports, try at least to keep the list complete and accurate. I didn't see any mentioning of the unix, linux, Macintosh, BeOS, Amiga or Windows CE ports of the game. In any case, a list of ports is really not that interesting either unless you provide some back story and details for each. You could also provide download links and perhaps try and find and talk to some of the people responsible for those release. You know, try a little harder.

Until you get your piece written properly, anyone remotely interested in the subject should instead go and visit Doomworld (http://doomworld.com/ports/index.shtml) which has good FAQs, interviews, articles and links instead of just copy/paste fluff.

Other than the highly suspect grammar, the strange non-sequiteurs and exclamations ("He's alive!!!"), the bulleted list of DOOM levels and what looks like verbatim transcripts from the game documentation, was there really enough meat on this for even a mediocre slashdot news story, you think?

Must be a slow day. Having read the HTML versions of the 'article', I must say I wasn't particularly inclined to download the 3.6 megabyte Microsoft Word document, though I assume I'd be rewarded with some BMP screenshots to go with the text.

To the author. If you had to publish this as non-HTML document, you could and should have used Adobe Acrobat instead of Mickysoft Word.

If you wanted to make a list of DOOM ports, try at least to keep the list complete and accurate. I didn't see any mentioning of the unix, linux, Macintosh, BeOS, Amiga or Windows CE ports of the game. In any case, a list of ports is really not that interesting either unless you provide some back story and details for each. You could also provide download links and perhaps try and find and talk to some of the people responsible for those release. You know, try a little harder.

Until you get your piece written properly, anyone remotely interested in the subject should instead go and visit Doomworld (http://doomworld.com/ports/index.shtml) which has good FAQs, interviews, articles and links instead of just copy/paste fluff.

Although it's getting closer to 8 years now, don't forget the 5 Years of Doom retrospective I did back in late 1998...

Speak for yourself - there is still an active DOOM community, mostly playing one of the improved variants from the source code release (check out the Legacy and the ports from Doomworld
Although I must admit I prefer Duke Nukem 3D :+)
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