Dear Mario

Dear Mario

As promised on the last show, here is the
letter that Evan, one of our listeners, gave us permission to post from his blog. It's pretty funny, I'd say. If you have any comments on it, send them to ITC. We'll make sure Evan gets them. Happy reading.


An Open Letter to My Wii.
Dear Cooper*,

It is difficult for me to write this letter, particularly under the baleful gaze of your unblinking yellow eye, but I have had some things on my mind for quite some time now, and I find that I cannot keep them bottled up any longer. Simply put, we need to Talk.

I remember when I finally brought you home after several months of calling Best Buy and walking down there every day, right when they opened, for about two months. I harassed the employees with my endless questions. "When do you think you'll get some more in?" I would ask, knowing full well those poor sons of bitches had been hearing that same question, day after day, for the better part of a year. But I didn't care, because even though I have worked in retail before, and know full well how annoying that shit is, I did it anyway.

For you.

I'm not mad about that, because while I am deeply ashamed of my behavior, it was my choice. I don't expect you to make that up to me, especially because once I actually got you home and started up Wii Sports, I knew our time together would be special. For starters, I've never gamed standing up. It was weird, but I was ready to try it. Then, when you asked me to make sure to leave enough room so that I wouldn't hit any objects or people while playing, I thought, "You know what? I like where this is going."

We went for several hours, Cooper, and I was actually sore the next day. That's never happened to me before.

We went on like this for about six months, and while I know looking back that I couldn't have actually been happy, I tried to convince myself that I was. In the meantime, more software was released, but I wasn't interested in most of it. I was waiting for some exclusive content, a Metroid or a Mario, or, hell, even a new F-Zero, but all you had to offer were a bunch of minigame collections and party games.

"Party games?" I said. "Is that what they think of me?"

Don't you understand, Cooper? I'm a gamer because I have trouble making friends, let alone maintaining relationships long enough to have people over for Mario Party. You seem to partly get this, considering your online capabilities, but in other areas you seem to woefully underestimate my needs. Why, for example, would I want to cook virtual food with you, when I could make some real food in my kitchen, and then eat it? And why should I play Resident Evil 4 with you, when I already have it for your predecessor?

Oh.

I didn't mean to bring it up here, but, yes...I've had Nintendo consoles before. You'd like them; they're a lot like you. They have incredibly good first-party content and a spotty relationship with third-party developers. But you never forget your first. And my first was a Nintendo. Don't worry about the APF TV Fun...it didn't count. I was young and stupid then, and all it had was four versions of Pong. I forgot all about it once I got an NES.

And I guess that leads me to my next question...why aren't you more like your relatives? Are you rebelling, or what? They were all about gameplay and fun, but you seem more interested in making me swing my arms around, or perform gestures with your remote which would make my grandmother faint if she saw me doing them. Why the obsession with making me do wanking motions? SNES never made me do wanking motions. I think, deep down, you enjoy making me look foolish.

This wouldn't bother me if I believed that despite all that, you really care what I think about you. But I see you out there, bowing and scraping for the favors of soccer moms and people with pensions, and I don't see where I fit into your future. It's like you have all these new friends, and suddenly you don't need me anymore. Our families have sat together many times over the past twenty years, and I guess those memories mean more to me than they do to you.

What I'm saying is that I think our relationship has been lopsided for a while, ever since you became the top-selling console. Sure, we had a lot of fun with Metroid Prime 3, Super Mario Galaxy, and Geometry Wars. But your software selection in stores is increasingly cluttered with titles which hold absolutely no interest for me, or for anyone I know. And still, you keep dangling things in front of me. "Mario Kart is coming!" people will shout, or, "Super Smash Bros. Brawl is fucking awesome!" But I'm not interested in those games...they remind me too much of N64.

"What about No More Heroes?" my friends continue. "It's really good. You should borrow it." And I suppose I could, Cooper, and I think I'd enjoy it, but what happens after I finish it? That's right...it will be back to the months of emptiness, waiting for them to bring back Pikmin or release Baseball Simulator 2000 on the Virtual Console.

We both know that's no basis for a relationship.

So I guess what I'm saying is that we need to take a break. I'll be spending a lot of time with the 360; I thought it was best that you hear it from me first. Maybe someday we'll hang out again.

But you've got a lot of growing up to do before then.



Sincerely,

Evan

*Cooper is the "nickname" I gave to the console during the setup process. This is the first opportunity I have had to use this purely cosmetic and nonsensical appellation.

Again, good stuff. Make sure you listen to the next show, where we'll talk about the concept of "Life" in games. Until then.

SHOCK
THE
WORLD!

Drew