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You've slavered over hands on reports, harrowing epics of self abuse, and drool inducing pictures to make you forget the bad news: it's still unknown when the DS Lite is leaving Japan. So what's a Cheap Ass Gamer to do? You take your girlfriend to Taco Bell on Valentine's Day, claim the thrift shop's too expensive and think you're being ripped off if you pay more then 20% of retail value for a new release; do you dare pay over MSRP for the object of your desire?
The anticipation built for a week as I sat on a pile of cheap DS games and futilely tried to understand Japanese so I could track my package. Fatefully the doorbell rang and my ears rang with music as "Express Mail" rolled off the carriers lips and I struggled to restrain myself from tackling her as she insisted I fill out a form. Ripping the brown paper packaging from the small bubble clad package my smile went Grinchish in width. I may have started laughing in a startlingly maniacal fashion during this time but the reports are conflicting.
Gingerly I folded back the layers of packaging slowly, tenuously, hesitating on the cusp of embrace with a new lover. Withdrawing it's secrets from within I notice that at least in this initial release Nintendo has opted to omit the rubber thumb nub, fairly negligible as only a couple of games really give you an edge with its use. None the less, with Metroid Prime: Hunters tantalizingly near and the potential for the nub to be the ideal control situation is a little disappointing.
Having filled a week with every screenshot and word on the subject I could find the mystery in what I was about to hold wasn't overwhelming. Yet pulling the glossy white unit out of the protective bag may have been the first time I set eyes on it's body or heard it's sultry name. There's something about the unit, how truly elegant it is, the way the clear plastic reflects the light, and it's surprising size that comes across in a fresh way holding it in the palm of your hand.
Charging the unit is torture. Beauty has invited you to indulge in itself only to sequester itself to private and implore you to wait a little longer. I try to bide my time with indecipherable Japanese and learn through the magic of pictures that styli are delicious and the DS is good for crushing babies. I took solace in an odd illustration that I could derive no meaning from as alas, I don't speak Japanese. Mere minutes into the unknown time she would require I gave myself over to a nap to spare the agony of waiting.
Awakening, the orange charge light no longer tells me to stop so I seize it in both hands. Opening the top I notice that the hinge is nice and tight, securely snapping into place to greet me. I stroke it's inside surface and find it's texture unique, not the cold hard plastic on the outside but a barely noticeable feeling of softness. Moving my fingers up it's sides to the shoulders my fingers are greeted with a gentle roughness as if a fine grade of sand paper had been run over it's inner plastic. Turning my prize around to take a look I notice that the triggers are almost in line with the top of the unit and are designed for very little travel room. I spend some time depressing the shoulders and though they take little effort to operate you know you're using them and feel satisfied about it.
I trace my fingers back to its front and seize it firmly. My index finger moves to its side and I push the power switch skyward. Nothing happens. I look and push again realizing the spring was stronger then I anticipated and I hadn't pushed it far enough. The power light flicks yellow, its speakers chime out, and I'm warned about my health as I'm bathed in the warmth of her glow. I'm spoken to in Japanese, very exotic, but universal icons let me stumble through until I can convince it to speak to me in English.
Now it sits and waits at my beck to please me, I sit and take in the stark beauty of it's dual attributes. So crisp and bright, still untouched. I tell it to start Tony Hawk's American Sk8land and it obeys. As I begin to skate around raising trouble and defacing property, as all skateboarders apparently do, I'm sitting in spectacle at the colors, the smoothness, the brightness that could destroy retinas of the unprepared. Then I wonder why my laptop that cost ten times as much doesn't come anywhere near this. Picking out new wires to grind on and extend my combo is as easy as it should be with nary a hint of ghosting and beautiful contrast.
I begin to play seriously, mashing buttons faster and faster working together huge combos as Green Day pipes from the small speakers. Manuals, specials, face plants all go off easier then ever as the controls naturally extend from my hands as if we were one. The d-pad perfectly dimpled in the center to ease and reduce movement, the face buttons petite yet distinguished so I can work them without moving my thumb. I push them in and out, they're surprisingly soft, unlike any controller I can pull out to compare, and belie a subtle firmness that lets you do what you want while staying in control.
That's when my hands started to cramp a little. I had instinctively fallen back to my "SP grip", pushing my fingers flush against its flat back the system under the ball of my thumb. I was fatiguing too quick, this simply wouldn't do. Setting the system down for a minute I had to think about how to go about this. I remembered watching cabels short bits about the system and thought that maybe his approach of letting it rest on the finger tips would be best. Drawing it back into my hands I held it gingerly letting it "breathe". I changed to Mario Kart and jumped into a Grand Prix. By the end of the first lap the slick little box had nearly slid out of my hands as I powerslid and dropped shells on hapless foes.
This wouldn't work either as I'm afraid I wouldn't be forgiven if I were to drop it mid-game. So I embraced it a little closer sliding the second knuckles of my fingers underneath to give it support. My pinkies will sit on the bottom edge in case I get over zealous on it's shoulders and it makes for sweet music. Sometimes it likes me to use the stylus and touch it. It's beautiful how it fits between my thumb and forefinger so I can cross animals with nothing inhibiting our interactions.
I still have some long term concerns about our love, but no relationship is perfect. I wonder how well it will hold up over long term use, and especially how durable the plastic shell is and how vulnerable to scratching it is. It also could have a better positioned wrist strap that was wearable while playing to ease fears of dropage on a hard floor. It also has a sort of weird mole behind its ear in the GBA slot that doesn't fully take GBA games in and takes them in oddly off center. Entirely cosmetic but makes traveling without carrying additional games a little more difficult.
At night when I go to bed with it next to me my lovely has some quirks but that's part of what makes it beautiful. We're happy together and I see us being so for a long time. It's true that happiness comes in small packages.
You've slavered over hands on reports, harrowing epics of self abuse, and drool inducing pictures to make you forget the bad news: it's still unknown when the DS Lite is leaving Japan. So what's a Cheap Ass Gamer to do? You take your girlfriend to Taco Bell on Valentine's Day, claim the thrift shop's too expensive and think you're being ripped off if you pay more then 20% of retail value for a new release; do you dare pay over MSRP for the object of your desire?
The anticipation built for a week as I sat on a pile of cheap DS games and futilely tried to understand Japanese so I could track my package. Fatefully the doorbell rang and my ears rang with music as "Express Mail" rolled off the carriers lips and I struggled to restrain myself from tackling her as she insisted I fill out a form. Ripping the brown paper packaging from the small bubble clad package my smile went Grinchish in width. I may have started laughing in a startlingly maniacal fashion during this time but the reports are conflicting.
Gingerly I folded back the layers of packaging slowly, tenuously, hesitating on the cusp of embrace with a new lover. Withdrawing it's secrets from within I notice that at least in this initial release Nintendo has opted to omit the rubber thumb nub, fairly negligible as only a couple of games really give you an edge with its use. None the less, with Metroid Prime: Hunters tantalizingly near and the potential for the nub to be the ideal control situation is a little disappointing.
Having filled a week with every screenshot and word on the subject I could find the mystery in what I was about to hold wasn't overwhelming. Yet pulling the glossy white unit out of the protective bag may have been the first time I set eyes on it's body or heard it's sultry name. There's something about the unit, how truly elegant it is, the way the clear plastic reflects the light, and it's surprising size that comes across in a fresh way holding it in the palm of your hand.
Charging the unit is torture. Beauty has invited you to indulge in itself only to sequester itself to private and implore you to wait a little longer. I try to bide my time with indecipherable Japanese and learn through the magic of pictures that styli are delicious and the DS is good for crushing babies. I took solace in an odd illustration that I could derive no meaning from as alas, I don't speak Japanese. Mere minutes into the unknown time she would require I gave myself over to a nap to spare the agony of waiting.
Awakening, the orange charge light no longer tells me to stop so I seize it in both hands. Opening the top I notice that the hinge is nice and tight, securely snapping into place to greet me. I stroke it's inside surface and find it's texture unique, not the cold hard plastic on the outside but a barely noticeable feeling of softness. Moving my fingers up it's sides to the shoulders my fingers are greeted with a gentle roughness as if a fine grade of sand paper had been run over it's inner plastic. Turning my prize around to take a look I notice that the triggers are almost in line with the top of the unit and are designed for very little travel room. I spend some time depressing the shoulders and though they take little effort to operate you know you're using them and feel satisfied about it.
I trace my fingers back to its front and seize it firmly. My index finger moves to its side and I push the power switch skyward. Nothing happens. I look and push again realizing the spring was stronger then I anticipated and I hadn't pushed it far enough. The power light flicks yellow, its speakers chime out, and I'm warned about my health as I'm bathed in the warmth of her glow. I'm spoken to in Japanese, very exotic, but universal icons let me stumble through until I can convince it to speak to me in English.
Now it sits and waits at my beck to please me, I sit and take in the stark beauty of it's dual attributes. So crisp and bright, still untouched. I tell it to start Tony Hawk's American Sk8land and it obeys. As I begin to skate around raising trouble and defacing property, as all skateboarders apparently do, I'm sitting in spectacle at the colors, the smoothness, the brightness that could destroy retinas of the unprepared. Then I wonder why my laptop that cost ten times as much doesn't come anywhere near this. Picking out new wires to grind on and extend my combo is as easy as it should be with nary a hint of ghosting and beautiful contrast.
I begin to play seriously, mashing buttons faster and faster working together huge combos as Green Day pipes from the small speakers. Manuals, specials, face plants all go off easier then ever as the controls naturally extend from my hands as if we were one. The d-pad perfectly dimpled in the center to ease and reduce movement, the face buttons petite yet distinguished so I can work them without moving my thumb. I push them in and out, they're surprisingly soft, unlike any controller I can pull out to compare, and belie a subtle firmness that lets you do what you want while staying in control.
That's when my hands started to cramp a little. I had instinctively fallen back to my "SP grip", pushing my fingers flush against its flat back the system under the ball of my thumb. I was fatiguing too quick, this simply wouldn't do. Setting the system down for a minute I had to think about how to go about this. I remembered watching cabels short bits about the system and thought that maybe his approach of letting it rest on the finger tips would be best. Drawing it back into my hands I held it gingerly letting it "breathe". I changed to Mario Kart and jumped into a Grand Prix. By the end of the first lap the slick little box had nearly slid out of my hands as I powerslid and dropped shells on hapless foes.
This wouldn't work either as I'm afraid I wouldn't be forgiven if I were to drop it mid-game. So I embraced it a little closer sliding the second knuckles of my fingers underneath to give it support. My pinkies will sit on the bottom edge in case I get over zealous on it's shoulders and it makes for sweet music. Sometimes it likes me to use the stylus and touch it. It's beautiful how it fits between my thumb and forefinger so I can cross animals with nothing inhibiting our interactions.
I still have some long term concerns about our love, but no relationship is perfect. I wonder how well it will hold up over long term use, and especially how durable the plastic shell is and how vulnerable to scratching it is. It also could have a better positioned wrist strap that was wearable while playing to ease fears of dropage on a hard floor. It also has a sort of weird mole behind its ear in the GBA slot that doesn't fully take GBA games in and takes them in oddly off center. Entirely cosmetic but makes traveling without carrying additional games a little more difficult.
At night when I go to bed with it next to me my lovely has some quirks but that's part of what makes it beautiful. We're happy together and I see us being so for a long time. It's true that happiness comes in small packages.