Times Online: Thirty years ago, when my long addiction to video games arcades began, those smoky hellholes seemed impossibly glamorous. Today, with hundreds of arcades plopped unceremoniously out of business by the credit crunch, they feel like what they probably are: a shoddy irrelevance in a world of 42-inch televisions and Playstation 3.
They do, however, deserve a decent epitaph. Their glory may be fatally faded now, but in the late 1970s, the arcades were like time-machines, whisking victims like me off the streets and into the 21st Century for the price of loose change. It is hardly their fault that the rest of the world has now got there under its own steam.