Dear Sirs, Madams, and Whoever Is Currently in Charge of Deciding That Bubsy Deserves a Re-Release,
I write to you today from my study, where I am surrounded by no fewer than eleven CRT televisions, each displaying a slightly different shade of input lag disappointment, to raise several points of concern regarding the current state of what is laughably referred to as “retro gaming.”
First, I must address the matter of pricing. I recently visited a well-known online marketplace to purchase a copy of EarthBound for the Super Nintendo — a game I once bought for $4.99 from a bin at a gas station in 1997, sandwiched between a copy of Shaq Fu and a bag of pork rinds. The current asking price was $640. Six hundred and forty dollars. For this amount, in 1997, I could have purchased every game in that gas station, the pork rinds, and possibly the gas station itself. I wrote to the seller asking if the cartridge had been blessed by the Pope. He did not reply.
Second, I wish to discuss the phenomenon of “retro mini consoles.” I was initially delighted by the announcement of miniaturized versions of my beloved childhood systems. How charming, I thought. How nostalgic. I then discovered that the controllers are approximately the size of a communion wafer, apparently designed for the hands of a very dexterous squirrel. I attempted to play Street Fighter II on one such device and dislocated something in my thumb that I did not previously know could be dislocated. My physiotherapist says I have invented a new injury. She seemed almost impressed.
Third, and I cannot stress this enough: please stop applying smoothing filters to everything. I do not want my pixels smoothed. I did not ask for my pixels to be smoothed. When I boot up a classic game, I want it to look like it was transmitted to my television via a series of angry wasps, exactly as God and the engineers at Sega intended. Every time I see a “bilinear filter” toggle set to ON by default, a small but important part of me dies. I have written to several ophthalmologists to ask if they can prescribe glasses that add scanlines to everything I see. Three of them have asked me not to contact them again.
Fourth, the ROM hack community. I have nothing but admiration for the talented individuals who spend hundreds of hours modifying classic games. However, I must ask: does the world truly need a version of Super Mario World where every sprite has been replaced with the face of the American actor Nicolas Cage? I downloaded it. I played it for six hours. I am not the same man I was before. My wife says I now mutter “wahoo” in my sleep with an expression of what she describes as “profound unease.”
Fifth, and finally, I must address the growing trend of “grading” retro game cartridges and sealing them in acrylic tombs, never to be played again. This is not collecting. This is embalming. These games were made to be played — roughly, joyfully, and with Cheeto-dusted fingers at 2 a.m. while sitting too close to the television. Encasing a copy of Chrono Trigger in resin and placing it on a shelf is the spiritual equivalent of buying a dog and then keeping it in a display case. The dog would like to go outside. Chrono Trigger would like to be played. I have submitted a formal complaint to WATA Games and received in return a certificate authenticating my complaint as a 9.6, Near Mint.
I trust you will give these matters the attention they deserve. I am available for further correspondence at any time, though I should note that my schedule is somewhat constrained on Thursdays, as that is the day I rotate my CRT televisions a quarter-turn to ensure even phosphor wear.
Yours with the utmost sincerity and a deeply troubling number of SCART adapters,
A Concerned Retro Gaming Enthusiast
P.S. If anyone from Nintendo is reading this, I would very much like to know why you have not yet released Mother 3 in English. I have been learning Japanese in anticipation of my own death from old age before this occurs, and I am making reasonable progress, though my tutor says my accent makes me sound like “a confused radiator.” I have enclosed a stamped, self-addressed envelope for your convenience, along with a drawing of Ness I did in 1995 which I believe demonstrates both my loyalty and my complete lack of artistic ability.
P.P.S. My SCART adapter’s name is Gerald.
