Nintendementia
Of all the myriad concepts concocted by man, time is without a doubt the most fickle. It wears us out, beats us down, steals all that we hold dear, and callously feeds our most precious memories into a commercial ostracizer where they're finely ground into a casserole of contempt and served to the next generation as comedic confections from a bygone era. It ain't personal, of course. After all, your rotten kids are simply laughin' at Ghoulies and Piranha the same way I laughed at Godzilla and Beginning of the End, but like every generation that came before, I'm now older, crankier, and out to prove why mine is so much better than all the others. At least as far as things like video games and cinema, which are pretty much the finer things in life when you get right down to it. And as time goes by, folks out there are gettin' more and more backwards when it comes to recognizin' and appreciatin' a fine work of art when they see it, which is where I come in.
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