After 10 long years, the unthinkable has happened. My stalwart GameCube has finally succumbed to that most implacable of enemies: time. So much time spent together, old friend. We karted with Mario, picked the min, faced Nightmare in SCII over and over(and over), looked into the face of madness in Eternal Darkness, learned Resident Evil wasn't all terrible with RE4, opened the hour glass and unleashed the Sands of Time, thought that X-men Legends would probably be more fun if we had other friends, and so many more things, noble GameCube.
While these experiences may not have been exclusively yours, we did them together! Together, we dutifully ignored my homework in middle school until you were left stripped and powerless. Fair GameCube, twas the most mournful of days to see you there hollow and without function. But upon seeing you reinvigorated, I knew you would never be taken from me henceforth, and never you were. A generation of sleeker, stronger, and less practical technological wonders came, but still I stayed true, GameCube. As the corpses of my friend's 360's piled up with their baleful crimson halos, I laughed knowing you were there and dependable. As your slim Playstation 2 brethren finally succumbed to the condition she'd dealt with for years, we lamented her passing.
Why didn't you tell me, Gamecube? Nary a whine nor whir of complaint from you. Never an issue until today when at last I thought to revisit you, only to find you struggling. Yet, you overcame that struggle so that I might once again claim victory over the Mushroom Cup. And then...then GameCube you simply died. I tried to revive you but it was no good. The Power was there, but you simply no longer had the fortitude to start as you once did. I naturally assumed that fragile Mario was at fault, but neither did Wind Waker or Pikmin or Soul Calibur rouse you. Mayhaps you yet live, GameCube. Mayhaps you will rise from your ashes and begin anew. I will do my best to see this come to pass.
I will miss you, GameCube. Some may say that you were just an object. I disagree. Nay, you were more than just a console. You were the summation of an experience, a history of all the things you had seen. You were my friend.
Good night, sweet GameCube. May flights of N-Gages sing thee to thy rest.
Alright, over-dramatization aside, when my GameCube gave me the first(and I believe last) trouble I've ever had with it today, I realized that it actually meant a lot more to me than it should. It's just a console...but it most definitely was not just a console. It was the best console I ever owned, not because it had all the best games or graphics, but because, it was a stable constant that, in the end, I imbued a fair bit of meaning into. I always thought it was bullet-proof, that it would last another 10 years easy, but today, I rock the GameCube no longer.
Does anyone else have any similar connection to one of their old consoles, or computers, or anything really? I'd like to know.
Captcha: halcyon days. Yes, I miss them too, Captcha.
While these experiences may not have been exclusively yours, we did them together! Together, we dutifully ignored my homework in middle school until you were left stripped and powerless. Fair GameCube, twas the most mournful of days to see you there hollow and without function. But upon seeing you reinvigorated, I knew you would never be taken from me henceforth, and never you were. A generation of sleeker, stronger, and less practical technological wonders came, but still I stayed true, GameCube. As the corpses of my friend's 360's piled up with their baleful crimson halos, I laughed knowing you were there and dependable. As your slim Playstation 2 brethren finally succumbed to the condition she'd dealt with for years, we lamented her passing.
Why didn't you tell me, Gamecube? Nary a whine nor whir of complaint from you. Never an issue until today when at last I thought to revisit you, only to find you struggling. Yet, you overcame that struggle so that I might once again claim victory over the Mushroom Cup. And then...then GameCube you simply died. I tried to revive you but it was no good. The Power was there, but you simply no longer had the fortitude to start as you once did. I naturally assumed that fragile Mario was at fault, but neither did Wind Waker or Pikmin or Soul Calibur rouse you. Mayhaps you yet live, GameCube. Mayhaps you will rise from your ashes and begin anew. I will do my best to see this come to pass.
I will miss you, GameCube. Some may say that you were just an object. I disagree. Nay, you were more than just a console. You were the summation of an experience, a history of all the things you had seen. You were my friend.
Good night, sweet GameCube. May flights of N-Gages sing thee to thy rest.
Alright, over-dramatization aside, when my GameCube gave me the first(and I believe last) trouble I've ever had with it today, I realized that it actually meant a lot more to me than it should. It's just a console...but it most definitely was not just a console. It was the best console I ever owned, not because it had all the best games or graphics, but because, it was a stable constant that, in the end, I imbued a fair bit of meaning into. I always thought it was bullet-proof, that it would last another 10 years easy, but today, I rock the GameCube no longer.
Does anyone else have any similar connection to one of their old consoles, or computers, or anything really? I'd like to know.
Captcha: halcyon days. Yes, I miss them too, Captcha.
