I had way too much fun looking up images of Nintendo memorbillia for Friday's post, and may have gotten a little carried away. That being said, here's one that didn't make it that, in a lot ways, really deserves it's own post.

It may be hard to believe now, but trust me: In 1988, this was the coolest kid on the planet.

Seeing all the message board skirmishing as the E3 corporate chest-beating is about to begin, I’m reminded of The Great Nintendo-Sega Console War, fought in lunchrooms, playgrounds, and classrooms in schools across America. I like to think we handled it a bit more “gracefully” in our time than current day console warriors (i.e. corporate shills), but I make no guarantees. I can tell you that Sonic was dumb and that a bunch of games featuring a fast hedgehog couldn't compete with an veritable army of quality titles, filled with plumbers, an elven warrior, some dude (who turned out to be a chick) in a suit with crazy lasers, and a robot whose powers and adaptability could only be defined as “mega”.

Or so I would claim in the trenches of my elementary school, a time when Nintendo was king and I was one of its many loyal followers. I was in pretty thick too. We’re not just talking games here, I was knee deep in the TV shows, the toys, the lunchbox, the bedsheets, the puzzles, and whatever ever else I could get my Nintendo-loving hands on. I even had the Nintendo Sticker book. Naturally I was also a subscriber of Nintendo Power, our own version of The Daily Worker, which fueled me with the monthly information I needed to claim supremacy of the Nintendo brand above all else. Does what Nintendon’t? Not a chance.

As an adult I can look back on this sort of thing and laugh, knowing that the only reason anyone participated in this playground warfare is because we had to make a choice. It was going to be one or the other, and whatever it was, that's what you stuck with, no matter what. I can't imagine any of my fellow warriors ever turning down a Genesis if one had been offered to them. Hell, even I bought a Game Gear with money I had saved up, and thought it was pretty cool (when it wasn't consuming all of the AA batteries I could find). What it ultimately came down to was I had one, not the other, and there was no way I was going to feel like I had the short end of the stick.

Knowing how that sort of mentality is, you'd think I'd have some sympathy for today's youths and console warriors, but the truth is I don't. First off, I'm not sure that any of these companies really court fervent followers like Nintendo and Sega did back in the day. I can't believe that anyone really loves giant corporations like Sony and Microsoft, who honestly don’t give a damn about them, and yet people defend/revile them like they’re some sort of helpless kitten/Nazi war criminal.

Secondly, none of the big three have anywhere near the propaganda of old days. And even if they did, there’s more information out there than ever before, so you think people would make informed decisions about what works best for them and live with it. But no, instead they twist whatever little pieces of information they can find for slander and ammunition.

Do they still suffer from the “my mom can only buy me one” mentality? I suppose it’s possible, but there's less and less reason to care – compared to the Sega-Nintendo days, exclusivity is a joke. They make portable versions of most big releases nowadays for Christ's sake. And yet people still fight on across the internet about which is the better console, even going so far as to compare screen shots. And none of it matters in the slightest, because the console that looks the worst is outselling the other two in spades.

Maybe I'm getting a little old and curmudgeonly, but allow me, a veteran of the console wars, to say a little something to the younger generation of troops in the battlefield.

Chill out.

And lay off the corporate kool-aid. Because you don't want to end up like this guy.

Case closed.

Main Entry: iro·ny

Pronunciation: ī'rə-nē, ī'ər-

Function: noun

Inflected Form(s): plural iro·nies

Etymology: Latin ironia, from Greek eirōnia, from eirōn dissembler

Date: 1502

Definitions:

1: Raaayyyyaaaaain on your wedding day

2: Free advice that you just didn’t take

3: Doing two reviews immediately after posting about how you don't actually read reviews

I don't read reviews.

Well, that's not quite true. Let me rephrase – I don't read reviews to determine whether or not I should purchase something, which I think is the point of a review. I do read them sometimes after the fact, out of curiosity, but generally as a rule, I tend to avoid them.

There's a couple of reasons for this, and it varies depending upon what medium is being reviewed. To be honest, I will read reviews for books, products, hotel, etc. and give them some merit. What I'm really talking about here are reviews for movies and games.

In the case of movies, I avoid them like the plague. I've found that a perfectly good movie experience can be ruined by reading a review beforehand, because essentially what it's done is given you an opinion without having a chance to form your own. When you watch the movie, it's like having a commentary track on – all you can hear are the critics' complaints.

Granted if the movie received a good review that's not as much a problem, but you never can really know that going into it. It's true that generally movies that receive good reviews tend to be pretty good, and movies that receive terrible reviews tend to be godawful. But most movies are somewhere in the middle, with mixed results. Personal preference comes into play more. I may have enjoyed The Incredible Hulk (not to be confused with Hulk), but plenty of people didn't, and that's OK. But that doesn't mean that I want their review forced down my throat and affecting my movie watching experience.

In the case of video games, I'm not as religious about avoiding reviews, but they rarely effect me. When The Force Unleashed received fairly bleh scores, it didn't reduce my enthusiasm for the product – I just assumed reviewers were being overtly whiny (they were). Same for Assassin's Creed, Lego Indy, and plenty of others I've bought in spite of reviews. If a game receives a truly awful score... it's possible it might make me sit back and reconsider, but that's a pretty rare occurrence. On the flip side, it doesn't matter how highly you rate a game – if I wasn't interested in it before, a shining review doesn't do much to make me consider the product. I will occasionally read these reviews, certainly, but only to get an idea on how the general press thinks of the game, which is information I like to supplement with how well these games actually sell. Either way you slice it, the review doesn't sway me in any way.

When it comes down to it, for me the only “review” that can effect me is one from a friend. Generally you know this person and their likes/dislikes, and how often that lines up with your own. And those I'll definitely give some weight. A few non-trek friends had rave reviews for Star Trek before it came out, which let me know that it was going to be something special. Equally, another friend saw Terminator Salvation early and despised it, which gives me pause until I remember that he also wasn't a big fan of The Dark Knight (which is insane), so there's still a chance it could be good (I'll know either way after tonight). Ultimately, the review basically comes down to one of three things: it's cool, it's okay, or it sucks. There isn't really much more to say about it that can't be wrapped up with a thumb gesture.

In any event, that's why I tend to keep my reviews on the short end – mainly because if I don't read them, I've no business writing them, but also because, when you get right down to it, they're easy to summarize. Either it's cool, it's okay, or it sucks, and everything else is just personal supposition.

What's the Deal?: The first Zelda was a hit, so Nintendo made another one, which also sold a lot of copies. As a kid I loved it, my friends loved it, and it was generally acknowledged as the harder game. Nowadays, the internet has seen fit to curse it as the worst game in the Zelda franchise.

Why Everyone Hates it: Because the gameplay does not resemble the original Zelda, or any other 2d incarnation of the Zelda franchise. Rather than using the top-down perspective, it's actually a side-scrolling game, with a top-down overworld map used only to walk to locations, not for any real gameplay, much like an RPG. It also features a number of additional RPG-elements, such as possible random encounters on certain world map areas, towns with people you can converse with, and experience points for gaining levels in attack, life, and magic. Oh, yeah, magic. It has magic. You learn spells which do stuff, and replaces the use of items as your primary support base. Not to say there aren't items, because there's still an item in every dungeon you need to get, but their functions are generally passive, not unlike the raft in the original Legend of Zelda.

It's also probably the most difficult entry in the franchise.

Why it Totally Doesn't Suck: I've noticed a reoccurring trend with this game: If you grew up with playing it, you seem to think well of it. If you didn't, well, you despise it. I think the flaw is in the second group. The reason most people hate this game has absolutely nothing to do with its quality; it's a seriously well made game that's a huge leap technologically over the first. It's also a lot of fun, when you aren't being totally destroyed by it while trying to get that hammer. No, the reason people hate this game is because it doesn't really resemble what they think a Zelda game should be. They get upset because the game they think they should be playing isn't the game in front of them.

That's a dangerous mindset, in my opinion, and it still happens a lot today. A sequel isn't beholden to being an updated port of the previous game. I think it's fun to see changes, and when a franchise is willing to really shake things up, you can get some interesting results, something Zelda games have done a few times. In other words, you can't worship at the feet of Ocarina of Time, which changed a lot of things about the franchise, and then in the same breath curse Zelda II for going completely off the rails.

As a kid, I preferred the original, but I didn't really think less of this one. I thought it had some really awesome qualities. Hyrule seemed absolutely huge for the first time. I loved that the endless combat actually meant something, that my Link was getting stronger because of it. Some of the magic spells, like Fairy, were really nifty, and let me do some unique things I had never seen in a game before. It also had multiple lives, which I greatly appreciated since I was often times in dire need of them. When I play it now, I still enjoy it just as much (if not more), simply because it's a quality game, and for all the same reasons I enjoyed it as a kid. As a child, you're a lot more accepting of changes, as long as the game is fun. That's an attitude I try to emulate as much as possible today, and I'm much better for it.

I should also mention that I'm sure the difficulty is a big turn-off for most players. That comment about the hammer earlier wasn't in jest - for better or worse it's an item you have to go after fairly early in the game, and it can be devastating. I spent a good year mapping out a course to get it when I was a kid. Nowadays I'm actually a lot better at this game then I used to be, but it's still a challenge. Unfortunately, no one has patience for that sort of learning curve (myself included) nowadays, which means this game doesn't age as well as the original. Then again, I'd argue that going after that hammer was no more frustrating then burning hundreds and hundreds of trees with a blue candle in order to find the 7th dungeon in the original Zelda. Nowadays a quick FAQ will fix you right up, making the frustration level for replaying the original game fairly low, while the challenge in this game remains fairly intact.

Conclusion: The things I loved most about Zelda games was the exploration and the action-adventure trappings. Both of those games had those same qualities in spades, merely differing in execution. Zelda II is a great game and captures the right spirit. It deserves to be considered a proud, although different, entry in the franchise. Believe me, if you want to see some things that shouldn't be considered Zelda games, they're out there. Got a whole system dedicated to them, actually.