I think that people who make games like these forget what being a kid was all about. When I was 3 or 4, I probably didn’t look at any one object for more than maybe 45 seconds unless someone was jiggling their keys. In Fun With Letters it takes 45 seconds just to move the fucking cursor to where it needs to go. Kids don’t have that sort of patience. They’d maybe rather just put the controller in their mouth. But I guess that was intentional because it lengthens the game, which no child would play more than once. Pretty much every “game” only has 3-6 variations before repeating itself. I guess repetition is great and all but when you spend $90 on fucking digital flash cards and there’s only 40 of them in the box you’re going to say “fuck this, he/she can learn the way I learned, life on the Sesame Streets.”
I actually did learn a few things while playing Fun With Letters, though.
I know! I’m as surprised as you are!
First of all, Yoshi wants to fucking cut Mario. Just look at that facial expression. It really says everything you need to know about their relationship… “Hurry it up, fatass… we probably have somewhere to go where you’ll have to climb on my back after a fucking four plate fucking pasta dinner. Oh yeah, bring your girlfriend, idiot… I really appreciate the extra weight… makes it really easy to immediately shit out everything you make me eat. *sigh* My digestive tract is so fucked.” Yoshi’s future will be nothing but loneliness and colostomy bags and he knows it. The Mario Brothers probably don’t have very good health insurance either.
Secondly, Fun With Letters surprisingly provided some commentary on Princess Toadstool’s sexual history. Finally.
“It’s-a uterUS, baby!”, cries Mario, “Not-a uterYOU!”
So I guess what we learned today is that sexual education can never come too early, and that it’ll be really awkward you walk up to your parents and point at their crotch and ask about whether they have a box or a rug like Toadstool does, and then, because you have religious parents they send you to some super strict catholic school where you experiment with drugs and homosexuality way earlier than you would have otherwise because there’s nothing to do at fucking catholic school and all that guilt just makes you more ashamed of yourself but the thought of the lord watching you during all that self-love is just too good to give up and you get a reputation as a deviant so you move to the big city and become a plummer and find a bottom who sort of looks like toadstool if you squint hard enough because ever since you were 3 you’ve wanted it but didn’t have the words to express yourself because the game only taught you like 8 words.
Uhh… I mean. Mario touches us all in different ways.