Speed Runnings.

This past fortnight, I've been enjoying both the modern plastic-drum thrills of Rock Band 2 (career mode is fucking awful, but I don't care) and the retro wonders of Super Mario 64, - again. It's the right time, I think. The first time I completed Mario 64 (and I do mean completed - don't come to me with less than 120 stars, or I'll feed you to the Goombas) was when I first got it, a decade or so ago. Then once more, in my University days, when Tuesday afternoons stretched out lazily in front of me like red carpets. And now again, during my quarter-life-crisis, when I can afford a laptop that will run N64 emulators. It's a wonderful game, and replaying it affirmed a love for it that I'd lost. Sure, Mario Galaxy on the Wii is spectacular and has glorious space-headfuck worlds to explore, but none of them have the sheer charm of, say, Cool Cool Mountain, with its baby penguins. 64 is the best Mario game and I will take that opinion to my grave.

This particular playthrough, however, has been enriched by something else, namely my discovery of sm64.com. Apart from being a nerd-pleasing treasure trove of information, it documents world record times for getting stars on the game. And let me tell you, these are some fucking world records. Let's compare. Here, for your viewing pleasure, is me getting a star on Mario 64. It's no great feat; my little brother could get this one when he was eight or so. Still, have a look.

I'm within a minute there. Not too shabby, no real mistakes. Now, check this.

You see that? That's a man who doesn't care about silly trifles like insurmountable walls or unscalable heights. This man scoffs at gravity (although the game sort of does too, by implying that a very squat man could climb that many vertical feet that quickly without having a coronary/fatal nosebleed). The music from that video plays in his head all the time. Where other people would see a bannister, or a lamp-post, or a child's head, he sees a platform. He's a speedrunner.

Speedrunning is the practice of pushing videogames to their very limits. It takes scary amounts of skill and dedication, and an intense level of hand control. By any logical criterion, it should have a shot at being in the 2012 Olympics - after all, we're OK with archery. For me, speedruns are the 21st-Century equivalent of World's Strongest Man: we can all do the basic tasks (lift a heavy thing; play a computer game) but we can't do them to anything like the same degree. Also, the people who are best at it are applauded within a certain circle, but regarded by the rest of the world as basically freaks. And you know me: I just love watching freaks.

In the most entertaining speedruns, it's not the speed and skill that's impressive, it's the inventiveness. They take routes through games that you would never even have considered: through practice and sneaky use of game mechanic, they jump gaps you'd considered unjumpable, avoid enemies you'd thought unavoidable, and just generally invoke a gleeful reaction of omg-no-way. And because you'll only ever see their best runs, there's no stalling or failing or umming-and-aahing: they skip gaily through bomb-filled warehouses and spiky death traps as if to say "oh sorry, was there some danger? I missed that."

Speed Demos Archive houses many brilliant ones, although there are just as many dull ones, so be choosy. I mentioned SM64.com which can be very entertaining for Nintendostalgics. My favourite one ever, though, is the astonishing Half-Life Done Quick. Anyone who's played the game must remember the hours they poured into it (joyful hours too, at least until the bullshit aliens at the end). This speedrun, after a slow start, breaks it apart. I think it's been done quicker since, but this video is the one I watched one night at Uni, very very stoned, with the video volume down and Yanqui U.X.O. at full blast. Geek heaven.