Sat, 07/10/2004 — Sak
I'm from the cultural bastion of egalitarianism and autonomous thought - the southern Midwest. Home of corn, bad food, and not much else. It's where reformationist politics and inbreeding amalgamate, and the most progressive person beside myself is Mayor Jonathan Fairweather, of Decatur, Illinois, who believes that, "maybe Social Security ain't such a bad thing at all. Maybe." In case you haven't heard, apparantly our country's fine young cannibals youth are stationed in a country known as Iraq (forgive me if this is all old hat to you, news doesn't travel quick throughout Missouri, Kansas, and Illinois).
It all seems a bit suspect to me, if I do say so myself. An exercise in futility, to be sure, and a blatant disregard for life on both sides of the Atlantic. A few year back, I was having a chat with prominent Kingdom City, Missouri radio personality "Mucky" Huckson, however, I was told that I'd, and I'm paraphrasing here, never know the joys of what it's like to serve my country in its time of desperation. I'm not sure exactly what desperation Mucky was talking about, or even if he was just making stuff up, or perhaps he's just clouded in a veil of Straussian-like ignorance, but he did get one thing right - as a conscientious objector (which, around here, usually adopts the more casual synonym of "pussy"), I'll never know what it's like to serve my country - but I'll be damned if I can't simulate a close aproximation of it using the most technologically advanced equipment available in the Midwest today - MAME. I wasn't going to let some cornfed, muckracking demagogue back me into a corner. I told Huckson to go back to reading the Farmer's Almanac, because I enrolled in Konami's Combat School, baby.
The training one receives at Konami's Combat School is not unlike the work one does at the U.S. army bootcamp, however the nine weeks of grueling physical labor and mental enervation are replaced with controller-tapping repetition such that a flaneur, not unlike myself, can accessibly participate in. Okay, so in other words, Konami's Combat School isn't like basic training. At all. This doesn't stop Combat School from not being Combat School, after all, this isn't your run-of-the-mill pansy-weight division prep school or, God forbid, a university - this is Konami's Combat School, and they do not take shit from anyone. With alumni bearing credentials like the destruction of an entire alien race (uh, hello? Lance and Bill from Contra, people.), and a faculty consisting of not one, but two Belmonts, you're obviously not being trained to stand around with your dick in your hand.