Saturday, January 20, 2018
YOU GAIZ MARIO KART.
For years I drove a MINI Cooper S. British racing green, white stripes, handled like a mofo. Long before that I had a crappy little Mazda that I even pretended was a MINI. I wanted to be in The Italian Job, driving a MINI in a heist, dodging cops, slamming the gearshift and working the pedals while, I dunno, I drove it through the front door of a 7-11 and breezily snatched a bag of Cheetos as I careened through the store.
Enter Mario Kart. I never played racing games, nor did I ever go-kart or anything like that. Instead, I went straight from being an indifferent bicyclist as a kid to being a BANANAS driver. I drove my big assed truck like it was a MINI before I had the MINI. With the Coop I played dodg'em on the freeway every single time I got in the car. Woe betide anyone who got in my way while I was in the fast lane blasting Van Halen. And then I was introduced to Mario Kart and WAAGHGHGHAHGHGHQ#&#Q^@@@!!1!
I CAN MAKE KART GO REAL FAST AND RAM INTO OTHER KARTS AND RAM INTO THEM SOME MORE.
There is something deeply rewarding about keeping that damned kart on the track. I'm yelling, I'm flinging the controller around in the air, I'm falling off the couch. Soaring through the air is equally satisfying, especially if I don't bounce off anything hard enough to hurl me into the abyss. And ramming into that smug bastard Donkey Kong is, like, beyond.
I realize there are tactics to this game but honestly I just bomb my way through it. I don't even remember half the time to throw a turtle shell, I miss most of the coins, and I more often than not skid right over a banana peel because zero fucks given. And frankly I get the job done. It's kind of awesome and I kind of have Mario Kart pride at being able to work it like that.
HEADS UP, HERE COMES PRINCESS PEACH!