Vincent Farnsworth 6:31 p.m., Dec. 4
Due to her ability to pull on my heart strings, "Giselle" gets a Runner-Up No-Prize for the day. This is a great example of how to sell: make it personal and seemingly urgent that you "MUST get rid of" your furniture. Well played, Giselle, my hat is off to you, a born saleswoman.
And it turns out I'm going to (yet again) bend the rules of my oh-so-rigid format in handing over the big winner for the day. Instead of the usual single victorious advert, I shall give you four (4) ads in the First Ever Quatrapartite Best Of Craigslist Daily Selection! Je vous presente:
The geeky little Star Wars loving nerdboy in my cries--screams!--in joy and anticipation at the prospect of firing up that Sega, NES, or (gulp!) Atari (!!) and hacking, slashing, runjumpkicking and punching my way through hours and hours of pixelated, 8-bit, memory laden glory. Thrilled by the "beep beep, boop boop" of the pre-MIDI soundtracks and overjoyed by the simplicity of a controller with only two (2) buttons (Jump and Kick, or should I say, "all you really need to PWN!), I can see myself easily swirling into the depths of Nostalgia Gaming.
"No, Sonic, be careful, you'll lose all your rings!"
"Damn you, Duckhunt Dog! Is it not enough that I'm an inferior marksman? why must you mock me so?"
"Quickly, Dig Dug, quickly. Dig! Your life depends upon it! Dig, DIG, DIIIIIIIIIIIG!"
Do you see how I'm working backwards? Chronologically tracing the history of digital fun? Fun I thought was lost but, it turns out, is readily available to me in my own neighborhood. Do you see how I'm taking us, all of us, back to a time when things were simpler, when blue hedgehogs, moustachio'd plumbers, and shapeless entities with a penchant for tunneling represented the height of programming and the limitless promise of a bright future where games like Halo and Grand Theft Auto really and truly matter, sometimes more than material life, to certain people?
Do you see, then, why I wouldn't want to buy these games? Why, delighted as I would be by the limitless minutes of fun to be had, I would only be reminded that the disposable enjoyment of video games goes from cutting edge to reliquary with shocking velocity--do you see it?
Do you see how I included the Gamecube in there as a sort of perspective device? You notice how the newer, faster tech is of less worth than the older stuff, covered as it is by the fine patina of nostalgia? Do you think, like I think, that looking at those four systems is weirdly ironic? That they illuminate the way they dig each others' graves, lining up in turn to scramble and fight their respective ways towards obsolescence?
Are you with me while I draw this line around the fun we might have had? Can you see that I'm trying to draw that line; that line between fun and sorrow, laughs and tears, experiences and things that were experiences but are now just things?