Tidbits - The Bands That Suckkk Issue

Note: Everything (the games, the memories, etc.) we’re talking about here is contained in a chip in that joystick up there. The second joystick and the gun plug right into it and then it plugs into your TV and you’re off.

Y2K 168 in 1 - The Greatest Tidbit of all Time Hello, my name is Marc and I am unemployed. It’s been three months now, and it’s not so bad really. You get to watch a lot of TV, beer at lunch feels totally normal, and masturbating becomes more like making love to yourself than being lonely. The one downside is boredom. Video games and pot would be the best way to overcome this problem, but such luxuries are only affordable to those who don’t have the time enjoy them (ironic, eh?). Weed I can get over (I’m too old for that kind of introspection anyway), but the video game thing hurts. It would be the missing link that would make my new life complete. Then, out of nowhere, on the corner of 14th St. and 6th Ave., two angels dressed as French-speaking Egyptians pulled me aside and showed me the answer to all my problems — a $30 game system called Y2K that has over 150 games and can be plugged into my TV. There’s no console, no CDs, and no receipt. This is an under-the-radar time capsule that contains not only my entire youth, but everyone in the world’s entire youth. From Popeye to Dig Dug to weird Asian games like Mah Jong and Karateka, this game brought back every day I ever spent in an arcade. I felt like I was wearing a jean jacket and treating quarters like gold again. Of course, there are some legal hurdles the angels had to handle. Donkey Kong, for example, is called Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and instead of Mario climbing the vines it’s Michelangelo or Raphael or whatever. I have no idea why an illegal game company would be worried about stuff like that, but as I used to say around the office, “Not my prob.” Lately I’ve been throwing away at least 8 hours a day drifting through my pre-pubescent years. Whoever said smell is the most effective way to bring back memories hasn’t played Joust in their living room lately. You can almost feel your pubes disappear and your pot belly become a washboard again. This system is more than a way to escape the fact that I have absolutely nothing going on nor any hope for a job in the near future. It’s a magical time porthole that taps into a whole photo album of memories I forgot I had; a time when being really good at Galaga could win a woman’s heart; a time when some things were stupid and other things were gay; a time when we called each other “paki” and had no idea what it meant; a me time; a special time. To win your free subscription to VICE send tidbits to: VICE Magazine, 75 North Fourth Street, 3rd floor, Brooklyn, New York, 11211, USA