GTA III has been shamelessly copied so much since its release that it’s easy to forget, but make no mistake: it changed the gaming landscape. Its lasting influence is clear to anyone who picks up a gaming magazine - not only do countless games continue to ape its concept, but so unique is GTA that these games defy genre classification. Instead, they’re simply ‘GTA Clones’.

I love the idea of free-roaming in computer games. It’s always seemed to be what games are intended for, to give you the ability to do whatever the hell you want, without repercussions. The original GTA started the ball rolling, and titles like Carmageddon with their open-ended 3D environments and loose criteria for success evolved the idea. But the eventual 3D incarnation of the GTA series, GTA III, combined these elements so skilfully that it took everyone by surprise, and they’ve been copying it ever since.

Sure, it doesn’t have as many bells and whistles as its successors in the series. There’s no tyre-popping or motorcycle-riding, there are no big-name voice actors, and it lacks the tedious roleplaying aspects of San Andreas. But for me, GTA III was a revelation, and I spent more time playing it than any other game in recent history. The go-anywhere, do-anything ethos is so compelling that the missions sometimes seem an unwelcome and primitive distraction, but the gems amongst ‘em - and the variety of inventive strategies you can employ to beat them - keep you coming back.

Developers may have been brutally ripping it off ever since, but for me, nobody has managed to beat Rockstar North at their own game.

The price of freedom is eternal vigilance, apparently.

And the price of Wing Commander IV was very low indeed once I bought it on budget, years after its release. I was a fan of the first Wing Commander game, but sadly, it was the only one ported to the Amiga. Fast forward to the era of PC ownership in 1998 or so, and I could finally discover the remainder of the series.

It’s easy to see how Wing Commander IV was, at the time of its birth, the most expensive computer game ever produced, clocking in at a reported $10 million (fairly standard nowadays). Although its gameplay was severely limited by the PC hardware of the mid-90s (its SVGA, pseudo-3D graphics have not aged well), its vast budget had been lavished on its cinematic, ‘interactive movie’ cutscenes. And it showed.

I’ve said this before, and it wasn’t a joke: the cutscenes in Wing Commander IV make a better film than the actual Wing Commander movie.

Ironically, it’s the non-interactive cutscenes that are most enjoyable, the ability to choose between a couple of options at certain points - mostly having very little impact on the overarching storyline - being little more than a distraction. Somehow, the fact you’re taking over the role of your protagonist during missions makes the on-screen action more compelling all by itself. You are Mark Hammill.

I’ve been gradually creeping my way through the remastered DVD edition of the game. Even the high-res enhanced cinematics have stood the test of time, though the in-game sequences certainly haven’t, and Wing Commander IV remains one of that rare breed: more of an experience than a game.

I’m easily pleased. Give me an online action game where I can merrily blow things up, and I’ll be happy for hours. Give me an online action game that incorporates strategy and teamwork, and I’ll be happy for weeks.

There are lots of games that fit the description above, but few of them manage to strike the right balance between the complexity of their gameplay and the simplicity inherent in blasting things to bits. Unreal Tournament 2004 offers a dazzling array of game modes with something to suit any gamer, but for me, its Onslaught mode is the perfect blend of action and strategy.

Onslaught pitches your team at one end of a vast battlefield, with the enemy team at the other. You each have a selection of vehicles at your disposal, which you must use to capture territory sequentially. It’s as simple as that: there are no classes to worry about, no preset ‘missions’ aside from the core objective, nothing.

And yet, the gameplay is vastly more varied than anything Counter-Strike or Team Fortress or any of those other team-based shooters can offer. Shrewd individuals really can make a difference, and - in contrast to Counter-Strike in particular - no two rounds are the same.

Add to that its stirring music, often evocative environments and seamless network play, and UT2004 is a wonderfully absorbing experience that lasts and lasts. Shame no bugger seems to play it online any more, though.

It’s suddenly fashionable to create a list of your all-time top ten favourite games. Stan started it, and soon just about everyone in the world will join him, so I’d better pitch in.

I’ll be using the same rules as Stan: my list will feature my top ten games ordered on a purely subjective basis, though I will be attempting to compensate for any excessive childlike excitement that may have warped my perceptions at the time. There will be no more than one game per series in the list - which is just as well, unless you want to read about every Wing Commander game ever released.

Believe it or not, I’ve done something like this before. Written in the hallowed days of antiquity before I had a blog to post it on, my list of ‘top ten recommended games’ was the authority on gaming. If you had an Amiga in about 1995.

Click the image for the full list.

How will my modern list compare? Will it include such obscure classics as RoadKill, the Amiga 1200 top-down racer, or the latest in the series of Doom or similar?

I’ll tell you something for nowt: Zool, which I recommended despite professing to “hate it”, will not be appearing.

Stay tuned over the next week or so for the countdown!

I read a Usenet posting that annoyed me this week. I might as well quote it, because I’m lazy.

The author was called to a friend’s relative’s house to investigate the strange behaviour of their PC. As the author expected, it was stuffed full of spyware and other nastiness, but curiously, it was in an even worse condition than that. Key services, such as its USB capabilities, its sound device and even Norton Antivirus were disabled. The owner didn’t have the experience to screw up her computer so royally, so what had happened? Quote:

She had phoned a number out of the local paper of a PC ‘expert’ who could solve any problem. He had come round and fiddled with the PC for a while and ‘Run something where he got rid of a lot of ticks in boxes’ (msconfig) - a few reboots and he had told her that the PC was damaged beyond repair and she would need a new one. The one she had was a Dell that she paid £900 for a couple of years ago and he wasn’t even selling her one - he said ‘Get another Dell because this would have happened a lot sooner on a cheaper PC’.

The bill for his expert advice lasting less than an hour?

£175 + VAT.

What? Arrrggh. Not only was the cretin unable to fix the problem, he advised the owner that the only way to solve her spyware woes - for that is all they were, before he wrecked everything else - was to get a whole new PC.

As the owner fortunately knew, PCs are not damaged ‘beyond repair’ unless they are actually a smoking heap on your kitchen floor.

This story really annoys me for a couple of reasons. For one, I see self-styled ‘PC experts’ advertising in the local paper all the time. I’d never dream of becoming one - far too much hassle - but I imagine that the majority are hard-working individuals who know their way around Windows and have chosen an innovative way of making some cash. They, and indeed all PC geeks, don’t deserve to have their reputation stained by idiots who have no idea what’s going on.

Secondly, everyone knows someone who’s, shall we say, a computer novice. To be honest, they don’t know their Internet Explorer arse from their Task Manager elbow, and they probably don’t want to, either. The idea that someone is making money off their ignorance - especially when they’re completely useless - is annoying.

And that’s why I saw BT’s Home IT Advisor service advertised a few days ago and thought “what a good idea”. It’s £9.99 a month (and you can ask them as many trivial and irritating questions as you like), or £25 for a single incident. Spywared-up? Computer won’t boot because you’ve had some monkey playing with it for £175 an hour? Call BT, who you can - presumably - trust.

I’m surprised no large company has thought to offer it before. Yeah, so there’s only so much help you can offer over the phone, and I dread to think of the huge array of differing circumstances the phone advisors will have to cope with, but it’s a start. Until computers are clever enough to take care of themselves, it sounds like a great service for the computer newcomer.

Could be a bit cheaper though.