Super Mario Galaxy

The Wii machine met a new friend last weekend. The new friend needs to be inserted into the machine's hole. And after inserting the friend, new pleasure results. In fact, it was so pleasurable that hours are spent trying to top each previosu climax as the positions got progressively more challenging and each round more tedious.

Welcome to my Super Mario Galaxy semi-addiction.

The game started slowly enough. The moves were initially clumsy and the movement slow. But trust me, at the grand old age of... heck, you'll figure out my age anyway. The point is, even if you can teach an old dog new tricks, you can't overcome the fact that aged joints and ancient habits are hard to overcome. I therefore concede: my moves are still clumsy and the movement slow. Trust me, you won't want to read how many times I steered Mario into the black hole. Ok, I didn't steer him into the black holes but the imprecision of my moves inevitably meant Mario became BH fodder one time too many. How many, you ask? Well, try from 15 lives to nothing and then from 10 to nothing and then another 1 more before I cleared some particularly difficult stages.

And you know what's even better about SMG? The programming folks allow you to return to the game from the last point you left off instead of requiring you to begin from scratch. So you get new frustrations when the positions and techniques don't work and new highs when they do. The mind keeps telling itself that it can top the stage and one reaches for the start button after each game over. The ass is rooted to the seat and the mind loses all track of time. (Maybe, Wii and a slower version of SMG can be introduced to old folks' home to keep the residents engaged. Maybe not; they might fight over who's turn it is.)

Yet, the amazing graphics aside, the trick is to know... the tricks. The programmers are not very smart. I've got them figured out mostly. In certain worlds or galaxies, I pick up so many lives that I was incredibly elated. At the same time, I knew the extras would never be enough; how does one pick up extra lives quickly enough a whole game when one needs 26 of them to clear some particularly tricky stage? I don't know how I managed to clear some of those inhuman stages, but I did.

One can usually progress after mentally working through the algorithm required to clear that stage; keeping Mario alive long enough to clear the stage is the larger problem for me. Unfortunately, though, mental dexterity did not make up for the lack of finesse in the finer movements. The fingers were not stiff - digital (pun intended) gravity works differently, I'd say. Of course there are many excuses. This is where I spend all my time moaning about my exciting life, regardless how exciting it really is. Did you expect otherwise?

For all the fun and pleasure it brings, SMG is a silent time killer. I take anywhere between 45 minutes and 3 hours to clear a stage and I've sat in front of the Wii for almost 6 hours yesterday. That is bad. Extremely bad, if you ask me. And at 1.30 am this morning, when I tried to sleep after my shower, all I saw when I shut my eyes were the stars and the coins I was supposed to pick up in the games. My mind was all hyperactive; I can't get to sleep. The brain was devising ways to pick up stars and coins in the various configuration set by and for itself.

At that moment, I think I'm getting out of control. I need to do something quick. I got out of bed, removed the Super Mario Galaxy CD, returned it into its cover and asked for it to be returned. I can't be addicted to it. I can play other things like Wii Sports. That's fine, because there is a limiting factor called physical exhaustion. Wii Sports require you to mimick the actual sports action and with such physical activity, you get worn out and at the opportune moment, you'll decide you've got enough of a workout, turn off the Wii and resume life. SMG does not wear you out. It makes you addicted. And I worry about addiction.

So, there'll be come cold turkey today. And I'll be back to Wii Sporting.

Oh, did I tell you I chose Princess Peach as my avatar? I wanted to choose Queen Bitch if it (Note at edit: Oh man, that's a Freudian slip!) existed. But then what would I do with Q**nsy? Sigh. So, Princess Peach... that's right. Sounds like Princess Bitch anyway.

This semi-addiction seems worse than I imagine...