I’m sure at some point in all of our meaningless existences we have had that friend who refuses to upgrade to a new game console. They are the ones in college playing Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out (before everyone got all up in arms about domestic abuse and the game was simply changed to Punch-Out, which, by the way, is lame as shit – who the fuck is Mr. Dream anyway) and Tecmo Super Bowl on regular Nintendo - or even advancing to GoldenEye on the N64. By the way, all of you who play ‘golden gun only’ are retarded, and I stick by that. Everyone knows the real way to play is one of these three: Power-Weapons, Automatics or Slappers Only. That’s it. Regardless, we have all had these friends and have always questioned their motives. Why won’t they buy the new Xbox/Ps3 Mega-ultra-epic-osity 3000 2k50? Are they hippies, communists? Poor? No ever truly knew, since the stench of bong-water emanating from their apartment at all times kept us from getting too close. Recently I have been thinking, however; perhaps we were the ones wrong all along.
I am not sitting here saying I don’t enjoy the new video game consoles and the mind-fucking 8-trillion p resolution. Quite the contrary. Somewhere along the way, however, we lose what truly makes a good video game. Gone are the days of raping and pillaging 1-pixel players with Bo Jackson on the way to a touchdown; no longer are we hitting that weird skull/rock thing in the middle of the dirt path on California Games and falling off our bike, writing in 1-D agony. Now, we are too busy killing little girls to harvest their life force in order to buy upgrades to our biotic weapons in utopian underwater worlds. I don’t even sniff 1,000 calories in food intake in a day because I am too busy attempting to save the entire human race by harvesting minerals from planets light years away to upgrade my fucking ship’s armor so I can go through the Omega 4 Relay – where no ship has ever returned from, by the way, assholes. Don’t know what I am referring to? Who cares. At this point I hardly know myself, but that isn’t the point. That shit is a lot more complex than falling off a fucking bike. The obvious question, then, is what was lost in the translation?
Somewhere in the Dolby 15.6 digital surround sound and the 17-D viewing-compatible Sony 1800” paper-thin holo-TV, these games are missing something. What it is, I don’t think we will ever know. What I do know, however, is that games such as Space Quest, The Incredible Machine, Escape from Monkey Island, Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out, GoldenEye, California Games, Myst, Riven (the list goes on and on) all have something in common that games today seem to be lacking: a huge, hulking, girthy, swollen mammoth of a nut sack. A nut sack that wasn’t afraid to tea bag you whilst you slept, only to have you awaken from a night terror, sweating and weeping. A nut sack that was no-frills - just pure, hairy, varicose content. A nut sack that stared you down, right in the eyes, contorted and twisted just enough as if to say, “Hey. Wake up. I’m fucking ready to be played.”
-E
Special thanks to Hallie for putting the "tea-bagged-goodness" over digital Tyson's grill; and also anonymous - who called me a "tardcake" in the comments section below - for helping me with the title.
Half the games you listed aren't even from the 90's, including Punch-Out. Check your facts, tardcake.
ReplyDeleteThis is a blog, not a fucking encyclopedia. Thanks for the input, though.
ReplyDeleteHey anon, Were you NOT playing any of those games in the 90's?
ReplyDelete