Longing for the good old days
Modern electronic video game systems lack originality

Nintendo zapped two years of my life. Yes — two years of my life down the pipes. Shot into oblivion. Erased just as fast as a game cartridge mysteriously loses all of its memory after two weeks worth of intense Metroidplaying.

I was the classic Nintendo dork. I had the turbo controllers, the Game Genie and, of course, the subscription to Nintendo Powerwhich provided me with monthly revelations into my 8-bitexistence.

While many of my friends were outside doing whatever it was normal fifth-grade boys do, I sat in a dark, secluded room with the warm, glazing glow of the Nintendo screen caressing my pale face, developing a level of hand-eye coordination unheard of for people my age.

A few friends shared my lust. There was a cult of us — a unified front — happily partnering up to beat up the bad dudes in Double Dragon or waste some aliens in Contra.

We rejoiced when Megaman emerged victorious. We cried at the disheartening news that “the princess is in another castle.” It was true camaraderie.

Although I never understood the concept of an Italian plumber who eats weird mushrooms and then proceeds to spew fireballs from his mouth, one can't discredit the creativity and ingenious simplicity of the early Nintendo games. They were an innocent communal fantasy. They were the original.

But thankfully my addiction subsided before game dealers brought out the hard stuff.

Now, according to Time magazine, there's more game systems on the market than the Legend of Zelda had labyrinths. The recently debuted Sony PlayStation2 and the soon-to-arrive Nintendo GameCube promise to bring unprecedented realism through “way-cool graphics.” Even Microsoft, in continuing its efforts to take over the world, announced plans to enter the video game arena with its illustrious X-Box.

Where's all of this leading? For one thing, it means shelling out lotsa money. The PlayStation2 requires upwards of 300 bucks before one can sit happily comatose in front of a TV. And all of the new consoles boast of broader bandwidth, faster graphics and even 3-D capabilities.

Time also reports that video game advancements in the next few years will allow everything from in-game advertisements (i.e. “this simulated blood brought to you by Heinz®”) to letting players insert themselves as characters into their games. It sounds cool, but the line between perception and reality is becoming dangerously blurred.

Sure, the games are fun, but perhaps the makers are getting carried away. These games exist for harmless entertainment value but are spawning obsession rather than recreation. Why pay for high-tech “virtual reality” when “real reality” is free?

Why all the hype for faster graphics, better memory and a “real-life” game experience? So kids can marvel at the bazillionth edition of Mortal Kombat and say, “Wow, I've never seen a spine ripped from a body with such detail before!”?

Still there's no harm in moderation. But don't expect to see me camping out in front of Best Buy for the GameCube. Youngsters today can have their fancy-shmancy graphics, their stereo surround sound and their zillion-buttoned controllers. I'm keeping my old school games and their cheesy, atonal Fisher-Pricekeyboard soundtracks.

I’ll be dusting birds in Duck Hunt, slicin’ and dicin’ with Ninja Gaiden,rampaging with Rygar and knocking the ever-loving crap out of Mike Tyson. But not too often. I can’t afford to lose another two years.

Because sadly enough, I still sometimes struggle with my addiction. I continue to spend countless hours staring into an electronic box, butt marks boring into the seat, eyes hypnotized by moving characters and fingers moving frantically across buttons.
But at least I can get paid to write on my computer.

Kevin Dunleavy is a senior advertising/public relations major from Spring who still remembers up, down, up, down, left, right, left, right, A, B, select, start for extra lives.
He can be reached at (phuns80@hotmail.com).

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