Legend of Zelda 2: the seven pastures of pleasure greed and the silver arrow

Preface: we are post peak video games, as a cultural institution, adherents are degenerating right before your eyes back into their primitive forms again, their body parts are shapeshifting literally into the groteseque: the slovenly.  the wheezing. dysgenic bugmen, the phenotype with pubic facial hair and wearing-in-public pajamas, thin arms and blubbery waists, pallid skin, bad eyesight. gone are the sensible bright colored v-neck wearers, they took their girlfriends with them. the chickens have now come home to roost as they say. the artificial buffer reinforced by mid 2000’s “casual” gaming marketing in the form of Wii bowling for retirees and super soda candy crush for normie adults is fading fast. a dam ready to collapse, the fake-normalization of video games is going to crumble, flooding us with the built up deluge of the awful omega 3 fish-oil needing, nasty humorless atheist skinnyfat core who has been waiting in the wings to swallow the industry/hobby whole again. the horde is upon us, and the residue of that brief stint with pop culture will be more or less permanent. where there was once Shame, there is now not only Pride but Identity. people love their games and theyll wave it in your face until you die.

it’s been almost 20 years since many of us first played a Zelda (im a real deal bro are u?) and god, do people get off to that game, the one with skeletons and music staffs and HEY LISTEN girl. (it’s pagan idol worship in its most basic platonic form). but id be lying if i said that as a kid there wasnt something transcendent about transmitting myself to this archetypal “elfman;” quick and light, tunic and shield, plunging into dungeons deep, lairs dark, terrifying labyrinths, [triforce level: Courage], questing for the goddesses, vanquishing monsters and ghouls and evil beasts, cleansing the realm of evil, etc. something real fundamental about it so that it sticks with you, so many dudes my age swear it’s the best game ever made hoo-rah etc. and Zelda players as a group, well, culture had had this place for us and so we are harmless in our obsession [Zelda is patrician and normies have heard of it= people wave it around], so of course the question of our age emerges, that slices through the thick of it and gets at the heart of what gamers are: how could one be immorally “bad” and still feel their spirit lift while shooting arrows of light from a bow at kings of darkness? even the pseudo-gremlins among us relate and that means something right?

zelda block puzzle

here players familiarize themselves with moving boxes in limited confines, a skill that  will be useful to them when they inevitably enter the workforce as warehouse employees

and so imagine my shock coming across a Zelda fan at the restaurant i work at, who, come to find out, is a full blown pedophile. he had been there at least as long as i had and was my age if not a little younger. one day he was playing the zora song new wave bossa nova from majora’s on an ocarina he brought to work on the cook’s line, and i only vaguely recognized it at first, but then it came to me and we had a small convo about how awesome Zelda was etc. then, next thing i know, he’s talking about how sexy some 11 year old is standing at the salad bar. it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around the whole thing. how and when did our paths diverge exactly? how long since he forgot that he rescued little princesses, not diddled them? well it turns out a while ago, because he had a pretty mammoth stash of child porn on a hardrive at his mother’s house. dont really know how he got caught, but they arrested him at work not long after the salad bar comments. if you are wondering how he’s doing now, the answer is “not well”. he was raped to death on like day two in prison and thats basically how much zelda is really worth to anybody

i’m a humanities professor

I’m a humanities professor. im tenured and make almost 47,000 dollars a year (at a decent university). im also a 44 year old sex pervert and as recently as yesterday evening am in the midst of a sexual affair with a 22 year old bouncy-titted half hispanic undergrad. we met while on a study abroad in portugal, where we started sleeping together. i am intellectually gifted enough to understand why this is unethical and understand the exact risks to my career and reputation. however, i have calculated that the emotional and physical benefits of being sexually desirable to a very attractive female outweigh these risks. ultimately, at my core i am an iconoclast who thrives when undermining the status quo, as a matter of fact, especially if it hurts my career and name. if i end up compromising my job, i will switch to becoming a full time artist, even if it means losing a stable income for my family. my credibility has actually increased because i have acted out in a visceral and emotional way like charles bukowski and gore vidal or something. i was bullied in high school because i was bad at sports, and so landing a 10 is my way of proving my masculinity to myself and others. for this, i am willing to defile noble conventions between mentor and student that have stood for hundreds of years, and continue to use my position of authority as a method to attract and seduce beautiful women. “regrets, ive had a few but then again, too few to mention”: thats my mantra and how i live my life, pleasures first. i actually fantasize about getting caught and often purposefully leave my email open when i turn on the projector for class. ive spent the last 15 years flirting with young women as a career choice and still can’t get enough. although most humanities professors are too awkward to sleep with their students, my perverted psychological profile reflects that of the greater majority of academic faculty across the country, and represents a good deal of what is paid for by your tax dollars in the university system. still i’ll write articles for media talking about the profundity of a good education god damn chloe has some perky titties tho i mean holy shi

(author’s note: i think that cat is out of the bag w regard to humanities professors but. i mean fuck, like just go home and kiss/sleep with your wife with no concern for her pleasure. some are 60+ years old STILL pervin on chloe, like i know you just had your first daughter 4 years ago with a masters student but damn. that’s another problem too. dad’s are supposed to acclimate their children to what men are, in like a broad sense. way to give her over to fruity grandpa perception, no way that’s not healthy right grandpa? “im in the fourth grade and my dad’s like 90. this isnt sad.” whatever, kid.

strings

guitar strings at their tips are sharp and hard, like little needles dangling from the head of one, excess wire that ought to be trimmed. some lazy people don’t cut them just because, and others dont have wirecutters so there they often dangle. stringing a guitar is like sewing, thimbles for  fingers but dont have them so they get poked and bleed and i think about king tut and shaving nicks and curses and staph infection and the pain of death. wires under nails, jammed sometimes if you arent careful, that fragile nail bed, quick with life, punctured and frustratingly buffered from soothing by its own keratin. not just nail beds but earholes and eyeholes too; those fatal strings can easily slice the membrane of your retina and leave you scratched or worse. then there’s the utter potentiality of string down the dickhole; that seems far fetched, but it’s as easy as walking by the guitar on its stand after the shower, an errant tip, as freak and unlikely as it is, directly into yours…