Archive for November, 2016

30-45? Don’t buy the Mini NES

Posted in Op/Ed with tags , , , on November 22, 2016 by Lupa
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The actual thing

 

To everyone sweating/offering to buy my mini Nintendo keep in mind a couple things. I’ve played the thing for hours on end and have news for you. When the nostalgia wears off, you’ve got nothing. NOTHING! The best part of Zelda is the theme music. Have you ever seen 8 bit graphics on an HD big screen TV? It’s depressing. It’s like putting on your glasses to look at Steve Buscemi. I don’t know how I beat these games back in the day, but they are HARD. Any second now I will be googling the cheat codes.

And how quickly you forget what those physically disagreeable controllers do to your fingers after playing for 4 hours. No you are not 10 years old anymore, yes you will mind the blister starting to form on your left thumb.

And the games don’t age well. Your kids will think they suck because they actually do suck – and these are the classics – try putting them to play Ice Climber!

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They were kind of bullish on NYC in the 80’s…I’m sure two white guys named Billy and Jimmy Lee with pompadours would be up to the task

The truth is it was cool THEN but now you are just hopelessly trying to recapture a part of your life which is forever dead; when you were a kid with no responsibilities engaging with what was then high end technology. Sure you can have ice cream for dinner now but when it dawns on you that you are doing that same shit for fun you did 25-30 years ago a part of you inside will start to feel uncomfortably numb. You might as well break out your He Man sword and beat the shit out of Skeletor (your little brother) with it.

So go ahead and spend hundreds of dollars on something that costs 60 bucks. When you need a respite from your adult life of plotting to fake your death to get out of credit card debt but taking on a new identity with the phonetically same but grammatically different name (because Loopa is the same as Lupa) it will be there for you. But like bargain booze after the warm feeling wears off you are in for the nauseating, unbearable hangover which is that you will never be a kid again. EVER.

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You will be

P.S. It’s not even mine, it’s my roommate’s (roommate def (N) person you live with who is not your family/friend who you don’t sleep with). I pretended it was mine because life is meaningless and satisfaction hard to come by. I can’t even believe that after 40 + roommates in my life I still have them. Sure I live a short subway ride away from the greatest island in the world, but from time to time I have to find another man’s used sock on the mantle and raise the toilet lid to find another man’s unflushed shit. MY socks and shit are fine, but another man’s will subtly eat away at your essence like that drop of bleach that accidentally got in with the colors.

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