When I were a lass, there used to be one of those multi-choice consoles in the local Supermacs (yes, Supermacs. I’m a proper culchie Culch.ie), to which you could theoretically feed your pocket-money in return for a cheerful selection of the games of the time. I say theoretically because, as one of the games was Super Mario 3, chances of the player exercising their right to choose were slimmer than a hipster Luigi. You’d slot your 50p in, tease a level of Mario out of it, get cocky, fall down a hole, add another 50p, and before you knew it, puberty had taken hold and you’d missed the entire summer season of Knight Rider. But I was never one for respecting theory. I didn’t even turn up for my Leaving Cert chemistry exam. So, while I played far, far more than my fair share of Super Mario 3, I frequently … There’s more →