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Super
Radio X Presents...
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TALES
FROM THE CUBE:
THE SHOCKING
STORY OF AN OBSESSED MAN AND HIS CONSOLE
by
Nick Burgess
Originally published as two separate articles on
superradiox.com in 2002. Revised in 2004. |
PART
1: TRAGEDY STRIKES CUBETOWN
| _____A
FEW MONTHS ago there was a very special addition
to my family. On the way back from college for a
weekend at home, I stopped by the local mall and
picked up a little purple bundle of joy. It was
a joyous occasion. Maybe something similar has happened
to you, too. Maybe not -- true innocent love is
a rare thing in this world. But sometimes in life
miracles do happen; and there we were, Cubey and
I, friends, family, soul mates. |
| _____For
those of you who haven't experienced the Gamecube
yet, how can I explain the magic and the majesty
that is the experience? Have you ever touched the
fair skin of the one you love as she sleeps quietly,
gently smiling, the morning sun shining on her lovely,
golden form? Oh, you have? THAT DOES NOT COMPARE!
The Gamecube is a heavenly blast of pure, purple,
plastic love, compacted by some magical force into
the size of a cubic cantaloupe and the general shape
of an EasyBake Oven. While some may be addicted
to their PS2s in a sick, strange, codependent mess
of a relationship, my Cube and I have a fair, giving,
and beautiful love for each other. If I have a bad
day, I know Cubey will be there to give me a boost,
tell me I'm special, and keep me up all night playing
his crazy little games. Or, rather, that's how it
used to be. For, a few weeks ago, Cubey got
sick. |
|
| _____Maybe
it was the hours and hours of Super Smash Brothers:
Melee. Maybe it was the long stretches of Pikmin
and Super Monkey Ball. Maybe it was the
bear hugs. Something made Cubey crack. Now, systems
have been known to fizzle out every once in a while;
I know I've pointed and laughed at many a sideways
or upside-down Playstation in my time. Moving parts
and reliability just don't mix. I'm sure the computer
you are reading this on has had its fair share of
problems. But this is Nintendo. I own a bushel
(yes, a bushel!) of Nintendo consoles and none have
ever crapped out on me save the good ol' NES. But
that come out like 15 years ago, and it's spring-loaded.
It's bound for failure. I don't think they designed
the NES with more than one or two weeks of use in
mind. The console industry was young then, and in
those innocent times they may have assumed that
the Super NES and its successors would be released
in three week intervals. The Gamecube, however,
is supposed to be a machine of the future! The quiet,
reliable, little box from Japan that transports
you, without fail, to a magical land of fun. Only,
for some reason, my Cubey stopped taking me to the
magical land of fun and started taking me to the
magical land of not reading discs. And that land
is NOT FUN. NOR IS IT MAGICAL. |
| ______I
immediately called Nintendo Customer Service, which
was actually quite pleasant. Did you know that Nintendo
has video game music play when they put you on hold?
It's INCREDIBLE! Plus, I could pretend like I was
phoning into homebase: Nintendo's super agent, reporting
back to the boss with new info on the mission. I
could demand to speak directly with Mario. Or maybe,
in reality, I could just talk to some dude about
my broken Cube. Which I did. The dude was pretty
nice, and told me I'd simply have to ship my Cube
to Washington state. Sure. Wait, Washington state?
NOOOOO!! For those of you who don't know, Washington
state is REALLY DAMN FAR from Boston. If one were
to measure the length from Boston to Washington
state in Gamecubes, it would be well over a MILLION
Gamecubes away. Even worse, I'd have to trust little
Cubey to the mail. As reliable as Federal Express
may be, I'm sure even they have been known to lose
at least a few Cube-shaped packages every few years.
And, let's face it, 99% of packages are somwhat
cube-shaped! And that Cube-shaped package lost in
the Cubey abyss could be my own! So began the long
process of answering a very difficult question:
do I keep Cubey at home, where he can be loved and
cared for, or do I send him away, further from home
than he's ever been, in the hopes that the talented
doctors at Nintendo can cure his debilitating disease?
The question weighed on my heart like a thousand
X-Boxes as Cubey lay pathetically on the floor. |
| _____Finally,
in a confused and sad haze of Smash Brothers withdrawal
and Pop Rocks, I called Fed-Ex. The lady on the
other end tried to understand me through the sobbing.
I told her to come and take Cubey away. And I hung
up. And hung my head. And wept. FOR DAYS. |
| _____It's
been almost a week since the big, scary man came
and took Cubey away from me. Every morning I check
the mail for a sign... a postcard, a letter, a ransom
note in a box with an amputated cooling fan (god
forbid). But everyday, there is nothing. I can only
pray that the folks at Nintendo are too busy working
their magic on Cubey to notify me of his condition.
I wait impatiently for the joyous return of my Gamecube
to the family. Until then, the fevered and screaming
dreams of death and insanity will continue. The
voices in the night that drive me to kill will continue
to consume me. And the fear of a Cubeless life will
haunt me. Cubey, come home! |
PART
2: REUNITED
| _____THE
WAIT FOR Cubey's return seemed like an eternity.
Nay, not just an eternity. A Cubeless eternity.
Imagine it. As fun as my other video game systems
still are, it's not like there wasn't an undeniable
hole deep in my heart. When a family member dies,
you can't just forget them by spending a day at
the mall with your one surviving Uncle Slim, as
jolly and crazy as he might be. No, as many hookers
as Uncle Slim might buy for you, loss is a terrible
thing, and though my Super Nintendo was there
to comfort me on the lonely nights, things just
weren't the same around the ol' homestead without
the spunky little Cubester to cheer me up when
I came back home after a long, totally unCubish
day. |
| _____So,
my Gamecube was in Redmond, Washington. I viewed
it as a pilgrimage; Cubey was making a trip back
to his homeland to rediscover his roots. Maybe,
maybe, good old GC just stopped reading
discs because he was philosophically unsure of
the reason why he was reading those discs
in the first place. Maybe he needed perspective.
Perhaps the whole thing wasn't a sickness at all.
Maybe all Cubey needed was a good long talk with
Uncle NEStor. Cubey, I think, felt he needed to
find the reason why he had to open up his plastic
purple lid for every little disc that came along,
be it Super Smash Brothers: Melee or, heaven
forbid, Universal Studios Tour (don't worry
Cubey, I would never do that to you). |
| _____Well,
whatever the issue was, it was resolved relatively
quickly. Early one morning, no more than a week
after sending Cubey off on his own, there was
a faint knock on my door. Having been disappointed
numerous times over the week by similar morning
door knocks, I tried not to get all nervous and
sweaty and smelly at the thought that it could
be Cubey returning home. Alas, I could not help
it, and as I approached the door in all of my
sweaty, stinky, fried-onion-scented putrescence,
I said a silent little prayer that Cubey would
be on the other side. I wrapped my slippery, sweaty,
disgusting hand around the doorknob and turned
it. Or, at least, I tried to; the sweat slicked
everything all up, but after a few minutes of
trying I got the door to creak open. And there,
on the ground, a stick with a handkerchief attached
laying over his angular shoulder (or, what I'd
imagine to be Cubey's shoulder... he has no arms)...
was CUBEY!
Tears burst forth from my eyes and onto the carpet
like a hail of bullets laying waste to trembling
masses of innocents. I knelt down and put my arms
around the little purple guy. The plastic was
just as smooth as ever, and I think he'd even
gotten his little circular black thingamabob polished.
Cubey had never looked finer! |
| I
imagine that Cubey's hospital had a sign
in the window something like this... Give
me a break, this is the best image I could
fine for this article! |
|
| _____Cubey
brought with him a mess of papers from Nintendo
of America. I was really hoping for a handwritten
apology from Mario with an enclosed gold brick
or, even better, a gold-plated NES with jewel-encrusted
controller ports and platinum A/V jacks, but instead
I got a bunch of papers with console maintenance
tips and a page telling me I could subscribe to
Nintendo Power. Thanks, Nintendo, but it's sort
of rude to interrupt my big reunion with your
sales pitches. Still, they did replace one of
my controllers for free, even though I didn't
know anything was wrong with it. In fact, the
whole ordeal was free, which is good, since it
was not my fault at all that Cubey just decided
to stop working one day. Oh well, at least the
paper that the included letter was printed on
has a picture of Mario with a wrench, symbolizing
both Mario's background in plumbing and the brave
repairmen of Nintendo. The image works for me
more than, say, Pikachu with a pneumatic drill
press. Though that would have also been cool,
in its own way. |
| _____My
special Nintendo Maintenance Tips pamphlet includes
such helpful advice as "DO NOT hit your Nintendo
components." Though I admit that I sometimes
get frustrated with my video games to the point
where I feel like bashing someone's face in, I
have never really felt the urge to punch my consoles.
I mean, they're pretty darn small and hard and
plastic. I think a light love tap would be all
I could pull off without the attack resulting
in a serious and embarrassing injury. It would
be pretty sad to end up in the hospital with bleeding
knuckles and have to explain to the nurse how
you just got so mad at that stinkin' spelling
part of Elmo's Alphabet Journey that you
beat up your Nintendo 64. I'm not so sure that
would solidify one's hunky, manly image. The resultant
scars might be pretty bad-ass, though, as long
as your made up a new story to go with them. "DO
NOT rapidly turn the power switch on and off."
This one is not quite as obvious as not punching
your $200 videogame player, but I still find it
kind of funny. For what reason would anyone ever
rapidly turn their system on and off? It even
sounds wrong. I guess if you're at your friend's
house and you're really mad at him you could always
rapidly turn his system on and off while he's
in the bathroom. He'd never figure out what happened
to his poor old Turbo-Grafx 16. Now that I think
about it, maybe this is what happened to Cubey.
|
| _____Speaking
of Cubey, we're doing great! He's back to reading
discs, and since I had to go without my 'Cube
love for a while now, all my games seem relatively
new again. I'm earning new trophies in Smash
Brothers, beating new levels in Super Monkey
Ball, and still sucking at Wave Race.
The only thing that could add to my joy would
be if I had a scanner on hand to show you the
crazy cartoons in my Nintendo Maintenance pamphlet,
or if you readers would gather up some money and
send it to me so I can buy some new games for
Cubey to read (he just loves readin'!). What can
I say? Ever since the kid came back he's been
tearing through the games with a vigor I haven't
seen since I first powered up his Papa N64 so
many years ago. But before I retreat to the Cube,
I'd like to share with you some of the classic
poetry of Peaches & Herb: |
|
I
was a fool to ever leave your side
Me minus you is such a lonely ride
The breakup we had has made me lonesome and sad
I realize I love you 'cause I want you bad, hey,
hey
Reunited
and it feels so good
Reunited 'cause we understood
There's one perfect fit
And, sugar, this one is it
We both are so excited 'cause we're reunited,
hey, hey
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