Master Blaster: They call him Doomgod, by Lawrence E. Joseph — Saturday, January 4, 1997

"They call him Doomgod, the one who can kill blindfolded. He defanged the Cobra and snuffed the magician known as Merlock. But Dennis Fong, 19, is no Terminator. He's a popular student at the community college in Los Altos, Calif., where he lives with his parents and does (most of) his chores. So why does he go by the name Thresh, as in threshold of pain?"

Quake II: A New Generation Erupts — DW’s Tactics and Lelow’s Domain

"My philosophy is simple. Hell the very nature of Quake and Quake II demands simplicity. Most deathmatchers have one thing on their mind. ANYTHING MOVES= MUST DIE. Simple huh? Well things start getting complex in the melee of battle, and even more if you want to win. I don't claim to be a Quake god, I'm just trying to help those struggling to get better. All I can say it begins with a simple solution as practice. Keep playing, you'll get better."

GamersOrb: Quake 2 Orb — Female Fragsters and Multiplayer Combat Tactics

"An increasingly larger proportion of women are getting onto the net and gaming. It has indeed been predicted, by a certain magazine which I have now forgotten the name of, that by 2002 there will be more women using the net than men and as a result more will be involved with online gaming... We will soon discover that females in game servers will become the norm..."

The Sydney Morning Herald — Icon Magazine: [Quake II,] Computers and Technology for the Rest of Us

"These days from all around me, I hear of 'windows' and a 'mouse', of brand names, some are 'Apple', wish I knew what it's about. I hear they've some connection, with strange things they call computers, which will give you all the answers, but to me they're just confusers. I've seen folk press some buttons, words appear and sometimes numbers, they seem to spring from nowhere — it surely makes me wonder. Sometimes I've asked a question, they just turn to this machine, press a button here, a button there, they find the answer there, it seems. It's really quite amazing, they don't even have to think, they tell me what I want to know, I don't have time to even blink. One day I'll look right through the window, perhaps I'll see before my eyes, this mouse they always talk about, for he must be very wise." —Hilda B. York, of Millers Point, fascinated by what she reads in Icon, was moved to write this poem, 1998