Through Earthbound Central (gotta love that site) I found this. It's just an idea, but it's neat. However, I'm not sure I want it to be a reality.
Think about it. For one thing, NoA could mess it up in so many ways. They'd have to change some of the wording, and maybe even take out a scene or two. Also, it's perfectly formatted for GBA. The music might not sound so good on DS, and they'd have to use both screens somehow. Maybe a map on the top screen? But then that feeling of taking the map out for a quick look is gone.
However, my worries about that sort of thing are nothing compared to what would happen to the community. I'm not a big part of it, but I don't want a bunch of idiot n00bs screwing everything up any more than anyone else. Yeah, there'd be some good, useful new people, but the key word there is "some". "Some," as in roughly 10% or less. Which means, for non-math-oriented people, 90% or more idiot n00bs. Do we really want that?
You could argue that that wouldn't happen, but how could it not? The main site is starmen.net. The game would probably be rated E10+ because of the Tanetane mushrooms (drugs, sort of) and the more...emotional scenes. Young children may be haunted by Hinawa's death, or even the ending. Well, E10+ games are usually played by kids about eight and up (or younger, but younger kids aren't as interested in that sort of game) so we could potentially end up with a bunch of 9-year-olds clogging the intertubes with stupid crap. When I was a little younger I had these two friends. They played games like Animal Crossing, but also some games like this one, I don't remember what it was called but I think it was something like Bakugan, although I don't know much about Bakugan. Anyways, I realize now they were idiots. They weren't remotely serious about games, they just liked being able to say they'd played them. They REALLY needed better hobbies than playing games for the sake of popularity. These were the same people who played with Tamagochis for maybe a couple of weeks when a new version came out, and bragged about how far they'd gotten. Now, Tamagotchis were the first games I had aside from Genesis games as old as me that were not 3D. It's partly because of them I fell in love with pixels. At first, I wanted to know what I was missing, and some stupid, crazy part of me wanted to be popular. But I played with those things for a year or two before I found better things to do. Actually, not long after I stopped, I got Pokemon Diamond, my introduction to Japanese RPGs. Now when I look back, I realize I've always loved Japanese video games. Nearly all of my favorites were at some point translated from Japanese, from Ecco II that I played as a small child to the Pokemon games I loved so much to the classics I've dug up, unlike my peers who never dig up old things for fear of getting dirty. Metaphorically, of course.
Oh wow, I'm way off track. :P
Anyways, these people I knew are the sort of people that would give Mother fans a really bad name, and seriously piss off the more hardcore fans who actually care.
I guess I just believe that if it was meant to be and you work towards it, it will happen. Even though I only found the Mother series about a year ago, I feel as if I've always known those old friends, they're that integrated into my life. It's like The Simpsons, or computers, or books: even though it hasn't always been a part of my life, it sure feels like it. The point is, if someone is meant to become a Mother fan, they'll find their way to the series soon enough.
Showing posts with label Society of Today. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Society of Today. Show all posts
sooooooooooooooo tired
How long will these cycles go on? Each week, there are five school days, and two days of rest. I spend the school days at school, and often don't come home until late. I spend my weekend doing stupid little things that relieve my stress but waste my time. And every school day, I wake up, sleep in a few minutes, eventually get dressed, get my school stuff together, rarely eat breakfast, and leave for school, one way or another. At school, I go through various classes...band, PE, something fun, english, a lunch break, a couple of interesting but not my favorite classes, and a pretty good last class. Then I usually do something, like piano lessons or jazz band, and go home eventually. I go on the computer, eat while either reading or watching TV, and do homework. I watch TV or go on the computer some more, and then take a shower and go to bed.
This cycle is so pointless. I can't wait for summer. But even then, I will be stuck in a cycle. Perhaps I will never escape.
This cycle is so pointless. I can't wait for summer. But even then, I will be stuck in a cycle. Perhaps I will never escape.
Down the Drain
In a book called "The Perks of Being a Wallflower," I found a poem. Here it is:
"Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it
Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.
Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen."
A couple of days ago I showed it to my best friend, because she writes dark poetry and I thought she might...idunno, enjoy it? be inspired? Anyways, I was thinking about how life starts out great and ends up awful. For instance, when my brother Adam was too little to be in my life much, I had a great life. Now that same brother is only in fifth grade, and swears too much for someone his age. Now I find out he's been skipping homework, and lying about it to his teacher and to Mom. *insert Picard Facepalm here* He's such an idiot. Why the hell does he think that if he doesn't put any work into anything, it will all turn out wonderful in the end?! He thinks life is so simple. When I was in fricking third grade I knew better than to think that way.
So many young people I see at school think that way as well. Most of them don't realize that if they skip their homework and do drugs, they can still have a great life when they're older. Well how do they expect to get money if they drop out of (or fail) high school? Do they really want to live off of their parent's money all their lives and eat McDonalds and either die before their parents or have no money once their parents are dead? American society is slowly degrading, dissolving, disintigrating, slowly but steadily collapsing into nothing. And someday, there won't be any way to fix it. It's only the people like me who might as well have no voice seeing as how much people listen to us, who can see what is happening and what may fix it.
Sometimes I really wish I would've been born on a planet of peaceful, wise peoples working towards a society worth living in.
"Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it
Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.
Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen."
A couple of days ago I showed it to my best friend, because she writes dark poetry and I thought she might...idunno, enjoy it? be inspired? Anyways, I was thinking about how life starts out great and ends up awful. For instance, when my brother Adam was too little to be in my life much, I had a great life. Now that same brother is only in fifth grade, and swears too much for someone his age. Now I find out he's been skipping homework, and lying about it to his teacher and to Mom. *insert Picard Facepalm here* He's such an idiot. Why the hell does he think that if he doesn't put any work into anything, it will all turn out wonderful in the end?! He thinks life is so simple. When I was in fricking third grade I knew better than to think that way.
So many young people I see at school think that way as well. Most of them don't realize that if they skip their homework and do drugs, they can still have a great life when they're older. Well how do they expect to get money if they drop out of (or fail) high school? Do they really want to live off of their parent's money all their lives and eat McDonalds and either die before their parents or have no money once their parents are dead? American society is slowly degrading, dissolving, disintigrating, slowly but steadily collapsing into nothing. And someday, there won't be any way to fix it. It's only the people like me who might as well have no voice seeing as how much people listen to us, who can see what is happening and what may fix it.
Sometimes I really wish I would've been born on a planet of peaceful, wise peoples working towards a society worth living in.
The Logical Song
When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful,
a miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical.
And all the birds in the trees, well they'd be singing so happily,
oh joyfully, oh playfully watching me.
I love that song. So meaningful and just plain awesome.
But then they sent me away to teach me how to be sensible,
logical, oh responsible, practical.
My early school years. I was taught to be proper, but some it I wanted. I like having order in my life. But perhaps there is too much order.
And then they showed me a world where I could be so dependable,
oh clinical, oh intellectual, cynical.
Yeah, I see the world where I could contribute. But do I want to? Trading some freedom for...what? I'm not sure what I'd get in return.
There are times when all the world's asleep,
the questions run too deep
for such a simple man.
Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned
I know it sounds absurd
but please tell me who I am
I love those lines. OK, I'll start at the beginning. For one, I love being the only one awake in the house, when there's still little light outside, and it seems like I'm alone. It's a wonderful, albeit lonely time. The questions, although unrelated to that twilight time, have been running awfully deep lately. I wish people would talk to me more. What I want most of all is to find myself again.
I said now watch what you say they'll be calling you a radical,
a liberal, oh fanatical, criminal.
Won't you sign up your name, we'd like to feel you're
acceptable, respectable, oh presentable, a vegetable!
It's sad how in a country meant to be free and accepting, and a place where it is our duty to question if the government is doing its job, people with a good cause are ridiculed.
Oh, take it take it yeah!
At least in the version I have on my iPod, this signifies the part where there are all sorts of odd sounds, a cacophony of wonderful weirdness. Beautiful.
But at night, when all the world's asleep,
the questions run so deep
for such a simple man.
Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned
I know it sounds absurd
but please tell me who I am,
Who I am
Who I am
Who I am
a miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical.
And all the birds in the trees, well they'd be singing so happily,
oh joyfully, oh playfully watching me.
I love that song. So meaningful and just plain awesome.
But then they sent me away to teach me how to be sensible,
logical, oh responsible, practical.
My early school years. I was taught to be proper, but some it I wanted. I like having order in my life. But perhaps there is too much order.
And then they showed me a world where I could be so dependable,
oh clinical, oh intellectual, cynical.
Yeah, I see the world where I could contribute. But do I want to? Trading some freedom for...what? I'm not sure what I'd get in return.
There are times when all the world's asleep,
the questions run too deep
for such a simple man.
Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned
I know it sounds absurd
but please tell me who I am
I love those lines. OK, I'll start at the beginning. For one, I love being the only one awake in the house, when there's still little light outside, and it seems like I'm alone. It's a wonderful, albeit lonely time. The questions, although unrelated to that twilight time, have been running awfully deep lately. I wish people would talk to me more. What I want most of all is to find myself again.
I said now watch what you say they'll be calling you a radical,
a liberal, oh fanatical, criminal.
Won't you sign up your name, we'd like to feel you're
acceptable, respectable, oh presentable, a vegetable!
It's sad how in a country meant to be free and accepting, and a place where it is our duty to question if the government is doing its job, people with a good cause are ridiculed.
Oh, take it take it yeah!
At least in the version I have on my iPod, this signifies the part where there are all sorts of odd sounds, a cacophony of wonderful weirdness. Beautiful.
But at night, when all the world's asleep,
the questions run so deep
for such a simple man.
Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned
I know it sounds absurd
but please tell me who I am,
Who I am
Who I am
Who I am
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