Thursday, October 20, 2005
Contra-Diction
Wait what was the purpose of this game again.? That's right, who cares. Now get out of my spray. It didn't hit me until recently, but I realize now why I initially didn't fare too well in college. I ended up alright I suppose, as I may be the only student in school history to make appearances on both Dean's Lists: the good one and the bad one (appearing more so on the latter). However, as I was playing Nintendo's Mike Tyson's Punchout in a drunken stupor during the early morning hours this past Sunday, it dawned on me that my academic shortcomings during my early college career (yes it was a career, I have a pension) weren't a result of drinking, apathy, or spitting at professors. Rather, they were symptomatic of something a bit more physiological.
Let me explain. I hadn't played Punchout in years. However, despite my intoxicated state I was able to seemlessly summon the elaborate multi-digit code that allows Little Mac to bypass the motley crew of the game's boxing hierarchy and fight Mike Tyson directly. I couldn't believe I could recall such a random number sequence I hadn't seen since my childhood, yet in college I had difficulty producing answers that I had studied the previous night.
Then it hit me. When I was 18 and a naive, ambitious freshman, I was unaware that my mind had reached a stage in its development where it could not process the introduction of new information--its space had been filled to capacity with trivial sports facts and old school Nintendo codes. To further illustrate, here is an example I have extracted from a 20th Century American History exam I took during Junior year:
"Fill in the Blank--In 1933, FDR initiated this mission integrated body that managed resources for handling power production, navigation, flood control, malaria prevention, reforestation, and erosion control. ______________"
My Answer: The T.V-A-B-A-Select-Start.
Although I did receive partial credit, I had spoiled my opportunity to answer correctly by subconsciously adding part of the code that gets you 30 lives in "Contra" to my response. However, as I reflect further, "Contra" taught me more about about life and trust then any crusty and used History book ever could.
Here our Hero is in what appears to be the Medula Oblongota. Tragically, minutes later, he was run over by the Magic School Bus.
Growing up, I carefully chose my friends based on how well they could play "Contra." Although most were anti-social and had paste over their mouth, I could always trust them to put me in a situation where I could blow up the alien's heart at the end of the game and have my story told to the rest of the world (or so the end credits would promise). My screening process was quite rigorous and if my partner would selfishly take the Lazer gun I had dibs on, I would sprint ahead leaving him to fate of the only foe that you couldn't vanquish--the unmerciless and calculating left hand side of the screen. Yes, the true beauty of "Contra" was that you could perpetually keep your partner in check by instilling the fear of the left side of my Magnavox. Thus, "Contra" proved to be an animated manifestation of the Machiavellian principle of the ends justifying the means. 
Despite not having a shirt in the artic snow, the comforting warmth of an exploding alien will keep our hero from a runny nose.
On another note, I just want to thank all of those who took the time to post their own thoughts and insights on Oregon Trail. I truly forgot many of its specifics and the truly Sisyphean nature of the game. No matter what you did or how hard you worked, you essentially ended up in the bottom of the river or victim of a random and senseless robbery. However, this game, although a diversionary exercise in school, truly accentuates the hypocrisy of my elementary school experience where teacher's espoused that they only way to get someplace in life was through hard work. However, they would also spend an entire period informing me of the dangers of smoking then send me off the shop class to make an ashtray. Anyway, I hope all is well and again, I encourage all of you to post a comment and let me know how you are doing. Take care
- A Japanese boxer named "Piston Honda" who would taunt you with different Japanese car manufacturing companies in between rounds. Possibly as a result of Japanese/American tension, he was a strangely large and well-built boxer (whereas your character, "Little Mac," an American from Brooklyn, was small and puny - even by Rocky Balboa standards)
- A large, pale, drunken Russian wearing a bear pelt in lieu of boxer shorts who would make references to alcohol with his taunts (i.e. Since I can't drive, I'm going to walk all over you)
- A faggoty French frog whom you could knock down with one shot to the jaw
- A Spaniard named "Don Flamenco" who would dance with a rose in his mouth before the fight
- A swami-esque starved Indian (that's the dot-headed kind, not the tomahawk kind) who wore a turban and his dot would "blink" to telegraph when he was going to throw a punch
Other Mike Tyson's Punch-Out related trivia:
- When he was arrested and convicted for one of his rapes, they replaced him in the game with a white version of him named "Mr. Dream"
- If you pressed select in between rounds, you get a one-time-per-fight recharge of energy, typically excessively large when not necessary, and niggardly when the need is dire. In an ironic twist, for those greedy few who attempted this trick before the beginning of the fight, you would lose energy just as the fight began as punishment
- 007 373 5963 is all you need to know
- There's always that one kid in every group who outrageously claims that "King Hippo got up" after he was knocked down...I seem to remember his nickname rhymed with "Posto"
- D.B.
P.S. Has anyone ever beaten Contra without the 30-man code? It can be done, and probably by the guy who did this:
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/smb3beat-r.html
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