Nintendo Death Watch I

My name is Roberto Fargo. You may remember me from such acclaimed websites as What’s Right About Cars (WRAC), where we’ve been discussing the impending demise of General Motors and Chrysler for years, in our  Detroit Death Watch series. We started the series because we knew that we were important people with an important role in the advancement of the human race, and that only we could use our flowery prose to tell people that their cars sucked. It was obvious to us at the site’s inception that our site was different. We needed to discuss the truth about cars. And by God, we did. Our site’s raison d’etre hasn’t changed at all since those halcyon years. Like Alf to cats we have always determinedly fought the good fight to bring you, our esteemed readership, the latest about cars. What makes them tick. How they work. Why the Jeep Compass sucks.

But now, with GM and Chryslerberus in their final death throes, Maximum Bob put out to pasture, and Wagoner finally flown the proverbial Little Douce Coupe, it’s time that we moved on to a different subject. Here on LoopyLines I’ve decided to put my best foot forward on the pilot project for a new site which we feel will just as doggedly pursue the truth in another subject: Video games. This is the first post to what we hope will be The Untruth About Video Games. And, of course, the Untruth About Nintendo.

When Master Chief calls in the Elites to try to determine which one to murder with his spiking gun, I’m always hoping for a miracle. I want him to kill ALL of them. My feelings about Nintendo are identical. When Shigeru Miyamoto said that he’d give the Star Fox franchise to Rare if the games didn’t “go into hyperspace,” he started a debate over which of Nintendo’s lackluster gaming franchises deserved death. The answer is, of course, all of them.

Nintendo was born as a conglomeration of various shitty video game characters that nobody cared about. In the beginning, though, they all kept their basic character sprite designs and various box art designs. In spite of the fact that Nintendo kept control of all the characters, each remained true to whatever stupid gamer fanbase it had. When this structure fell apart, or became one big shitty-ass mess of crappy products and stupid games, is not as important as the fact that it has.

Nintendo’s eleven brands–Sonic the Hedgehog, Star Fox, Super Mario, Donkey Kong, various shitty third-party companies, the original Megaman, Megaman X, Zelda, Conker and Banjo-Kazooie, Krystal the Furfag Dream, and Wii Shit–are virtually interchangeable. You could remake a Mario Kart and call it a Wii Kart; or a Star Fox Adventures and call it Megaman Goes Into Space; or a Sonic Adventure II: Battle and call it Conker Turns Blue and Goes On Boring Adventures with Obnoxious Little Furry Friends. And that’s without mentioning the elephant in the programming room: Character sprite sharing.

Nintendo’s brands bring new meaning to the words “gaming overlap.” Red Steel or Super Smash Brothers Brawl? Madden or Super Mario Spikers? Need For Speed: Hot Pursuit or Mario Kart Wii? These franchises might have better luck competing with non-Nintendo brands if they weren’t so busy competing against each other. As a result, whenever one of the eleven non-identical twins tries to make a case for itself as not being another faggy Nintendo product only retarded children would play, it unintentionally demeans a fraternal partner. Mario’s claim to be “a plumber” makes Star Fox seem like a careless flyboy. Sonic the Hedgehog’s “run really fucking fast” makes Megaman seem slow. And so on.

The franchise directors may beg to differ, but their hardcore fans don’t. Star Fox still touts itself as Nintendo’s furry-fanservice division–at the same time that Sonic fans like Sonichu keep on churning out more porno of Sonic-Tails yaoi slash fanfiction. And here’s a compare-and-contrast from Hell: Mario’s jumping ability versus Luigi’s.

The situation reminds me of the Lego company’s plight in the 90’s and into the 2000’s. When the competition started offering shitty knockoffs of Lego products, Lego responded by offering new themes: Bionicle, Time Travel, Spyrius, Monorail, Electric Train, Star Wars, and Bob the Builder. The bottom line? Lego kept on sucking. All these new brands and… Lego KEPT ON KEEPING its market share. Well, OK, so video games like Nintendo and Playstation were still taking away its toy market share, but in terms of making small plastic bricks with knobs on top, Lego was still first. Am I the only one who sees a parallel with Nintendo, which is responding to its diminishing slice of the US video game market by introducing new characters and a Gamecube with a remote control and a joystick attached?

Shigeru Miyamoto could kill off a couple of these franchises, figure out what the fuck to do with the rest, make some bonsai trees and–like Hell he could. Thanks to being a big egocentric asshole, constantly having to appease stupid kids and being obsessed with middle-aged plumbers who attempt to get into the dresses of ambiguously lesbian Princesses, Nintendo has neither the will nor the reason to kill off the horrible cancer that continues to eat its brains and rip its limbs off one by one. There’s only one thing to do now: Sell all its characters to the video game orphanage, Sony Playstation.

Earthbound is the only solidly profitable part of the whole corporation, and they haven’t made a new one of that in like fourteen years; everything else is being stuck with shitty, boring games that no sane human being would ever be caught dead playing. Dump the Mario Brothers, the furry shit, the racing games, the remaining first-person shooters, and Nintendo becomes instantly more profitable than before, although it might lose its position at number one in console sales, but that doesn’t matter. What’s more, under Playstation, each franchise would be leaner, meaner, and quicker on its feet, thanks to such meaningful and important features as Blu-Ray, a device that marginally improves graphics quality at only a 240% increase in console price and a 38% increase in game price. Think about the breakup of Atari, and everything it spawned, such as Lynx.

Even if a liberated franchise’s new ownership WAS completely shitfaced and retarded, even if, say, Electronic Arts bought up, say, Sonic, and ran it into the ground at the speed of sound, well, who gives a shit? I’d say, “nobody likes Sonic, except for children and autistic furfags.” And dammit, I’d be right.

The idea of being wrenched from Nintendo’s corporate teats is not bound to make Nintendo’s franchisees happy, especially Donkey Kong, who would likely throw barrels at passersby in a disgruntled fashion until tranquilized. But most sensible financial analysts would view Nintendo’s dissolution as a necessary Hiroshima: A violent explosion set off to anger Japan and force them to surrender to the United States again.

Of course, those same analysts don’t buy Playstation IIIs or Microsoft X-Box 360s anymore. They buy Wiis, because they want to get thin playing that goddamned Wii Fit. If these so-called “experts” want to feel the Trinity Site explosion again, all they have to do is drive down to White Sands, New Mexico and set off an atomic bomb. Even Master Chief himself would savor the irony.

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Building A Moon-Building In the Anus of New Mexico: A Day in the Life of the Bat People

There’s just too much to do today.

I know that, wherever you are right now, you’re probably disagreeing with me. After all, you’re thinking, it’s Spring Break, and that means that you’re slacking your ass off like all of the other buffoons who don’t own massive LEGO cities like I do. You’re all wrong. There’s so much to do, what with building factories that don’t manufacture anything, houses that don’t house anybody, and City Halls that don’t govern anything, that I’ve been having trouble doing the modicum of homework my teachers gave to me so I wouldn’t forget about any of them, ever, throughout my entire Spring Break. In fact, I just got started on it yesterday. Those who say that procrastination is bad have obviously not seen my Cave House.

Cave House

Oh, yes. Cave houses are all the rage, especially in Afghanistan, and I felt that my Architecture class was desperately in need of one of these “houses of the cave”, so to speak. Not that it’s made of cave or anything, it’s just built in the mouth of Carlsbad Caverns:

Map of New Mexico

Basically, Carlsbad Caverns, a.k.a. “The Vagina Anus of New Mexico”, is cold and uninhabitable, which is similar to Hillary Clinton. Also like Hillary Clinton, Carlsbad Caverns is beloved by women. Unlike Hillary Clinton, however, men also like Carlsbad Caverns, not because it is sexually attractive, but because it is like a challenge, in which one false step could lead to your slipping off of the guardrailed path and being impaled on a stalagmite. Especially if you’re a midget.

Anyway, I designed my building either to be built at the mouth of the cave or inside the cave. I’m still debating which, because it would change the story. I can either make it so that a young boy decides to enter into the cave and winds up getting lost because of the “impenetrable darkness of the cavaginaanus, which will surely kill all those who attempt to penetrate.”  In this case, the young boy would find the cave not unlike Michael Jackson: terrifying,  similar to a forty-year-old woman in both looks and smell, and creepily quiet. When morning would come, light would come into the cave, and, like Michael Jackson’s latest plastic surgery, would make everything lighter and even creepier, because then he could see all the stalactites and stalagmites and it would appear that everything was about to fall right off of Jackson’s face.

This scenario sounds really cool in practice. It’s certainly cooler than my other idea, which is to inhabitate the cave with bat-people who can fly and eat mosquitos. In this scenario, nuclear war has killed or mutated the human race, and those left behind must live in caves to thwart the evil atomic fuminess. My building would be their home and worship place. They would worship the sun, which they would call “Swastika”, in respect of the Jews.

I am still waiting for my Friend-Who-Is-A-Girl to call me, because she is apparently sick and can’t talk or else she just hates me. In the meantime, I’d like to show you to our next place of the lulz:

Damn You Peter Gabriel

No, seriously, it’s more furry shit:

Moar Furry Shit

Recently, Luigiian Aerospace Command detected an increase in the level of furry hatred in several sectors, specifically, StumbleUpon [here], FurAffinity [here], and the website of noted incestual conservative Jay Naylor’s Better Days [here]. (Use StumbleUpon’s “Reviews of this Page” feature to see fur hate.) Furry hatred levels at David Hopkins’ Jack [here] remain high for March 2008. LAC detected an increase in the level of scientology hatred here and here, but declined to begin retaliatory measures because, frankly, scientology scares the shit out of Luigiian Aerospace Command.

Let it be known from here on out that this site neither applauds nor condemns the actions of those who either hate or love the fur. However, this site does like the lulz, and there is nothing funnier than indulging in an Internet flame war with retards. There are lots of places you can go to start massive trolling wars throughout the Internet for great justice. They are as follows:

  1. Encyclopedia Dramatica (the place for Internet drama): http://www.encyclopediadramatica.com 
  2. Fur Affinity (the place for furries): http://www.furaffinity.net
  3. Something Awful (the place for aspie furry haters): http://www.somethingawful.com

I can see the light and the heat, and I definitely want to touch the light I see in your eyes, but not like Michael Jackson. So troll the fuck out of everybody on these sites, but only if you’re old enough to know what I’m talking about, and only if you’re serious about this. Otherwise, you’ll just look like a dumb pussy, and The Luigiian disowns all those who try to follow the lulzy way and fail. I will not take the fall for your screwups.

In the meantime, you know what to do. The resolution to a thousand endless searches, the doorway to a thousand churches, is in your eyes. Peter Gabriel sends you on this quest.

May the lulz be with you. And watch out for Michael Jackson.