Making Amends to Super Mario

Lupe and Inuyasha

Lupe and Inuyasha

Lupe and Inuyasha

Lupe and Inuyasha

There is a time in every young man’s life in which he must make amends. What amends the young man is making is not important. What’s important is that, by gum, that young man is making amends. After all, amends are how we can judge a person, as without them, the national economy would fail, and the terrorists would win. Beginning with this definition of what amends are, assuming of course that I know what I’m talking about, let’s continue.

I did not start watching anime again. I know this for sure. My cousin Josh, who I’ve somehow turned into a greasy teenage otaku fanboy, went through our local mall, arriving at Hot Topic and an anime store in the progress, and the coolest thing I found in our travels was a giant Koopa Troopa doll, which I want for Christmas because it is awesome.

He also had me watching two anime shows last night, Inuyasha and Blood Plus, the former of which I once watched regularly. As a basic plot summary, Inuyasha is about an irritating girl from Tokyo who goes down a magical well and gets into various bizarre escapades with an immortal twelve-year-old who wears dog ears on his head. This–wearing dog ears on his head–is supposed to make him a “half-demon”, which here is code speak for “irritating otaku fanboy”. In Inuyasha’s wearing of dog ears, the show’s storyline is startlingly similar to a normal anime fangirl’s life, because she will undoubtedly wind up dating a man with the maturity of a twelve-year old who wears dog ears in a vain attempt to appear cooler than he really is. Either that, or she will wear cat ears to attempt to become a “vixen”, but it does not really matter. What does matter is that these girls are being lied to. No, anime fangirls, when you grow up you will not be able to control your boyfriend using a magical collar and your obnoxiously loud voice, and you certainly will not have to tell your boyfriend to “sit”. In fact, if your boyfriend is of the “lazy nerd” variety, he will sit for you, at spans of several hours per day perched in front of a computer, ironically looking at naked pictures of the same girl from Inuyasha who keeps on yelling “SIT BOY!” to make her boyfriend break through bridges, fall through wells, and make cartoonish holes in the grounds at comical moments. To wit: No, you cannot control your boyfriend like a dog. Unless, naturally, you have large boobs.

(Note: Having large boobs will not give you mind-control powers if you are a man.)

Anyway, so clearly I have not made amends with the anime geeks. I also did not make amends with my LEGO city, Luigiville. For those who are not “in the know”, my Lego city is a giant plastic city of Legos that I have been building for over a decade now. My Experiencing the Arts class suggested that I be forced to stay awake until I finish it so that I build it faster, but that’s not my point. I have once again allowed Luigiville to fall into the hands of a sinister force, in this case, pretend vampires. This vampire attack went quickly, as once my little dead plastic character was moved to the “church”, we basically had a random guy get into the story and kill all the vampires off, while listening to death metal music, which my cousin bought at Hot Topic.

So if anything, I’ve pissed off Luigiville more, because the soulful ballads of Avenged Sevenfold are enough to infuriate Satan himself. What I did do, on the other hand, was play video games. Specifically Super Mario Galaxy. Many years ago, I played video games regularly. This was back in the day whenever your primary killing game was Contra, and if you really wanted an edgy Bart Simpson-styled game you went with Sonic the Hedgehog, who incidentally had spiked hair just like Bart. In those days, Mario was cool, as cool as Sonic even. We understood Mario, who shared our pudginess and willingness to eat large amounts of food for no good reason. We too faced adversity in our lives. And, of course, we have all been attacked by giant mutant turtles, by far the most important connection I felt to Mario, anyway. I dressed up as Luigi on several occasions, on Halloween especially, and wished to jump like Mario or Luigi. It was my passion at the time. One which I keep subdued with medication to this day.

Then Super Mario Sunshine came out, and I realized that video games had lost their way. It was as if crushing enemies with your prodigious weight was no longer enough; you needed guns or vacuum cleaners (a la Luigi’s Mansion), or, failing those options, vacuum cleaner guns.

But with this new game I see a bright future for Mario. Sure, he’s still weird, and has that moustache with the bizarre curvy shape you couldn’t replicate in real life with several tons of styling gel and numerous trained professionals. Yet he has proven that he can refrain from sucking, something Sonic the Hedgehog is still trying to prove. I’m guessing that they’ll give Sonic a vacuum-cleaner gun.

But nevermind that. I made amends to Mario. No matter how many times I said that the Wii was the dumbest idea Nintendo ever came out with; no matter how many times I said that Shigeru Miyamoto was too old to be making video games for twelve-year-olds; no matter how many times I said that the Super Mario soundtrack needed to be replaced by Eddie Van Halen guitar solos; somehow I got proven wrong.

I think it’s the vampires’ fault.

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