the commune: You’ll learn to love it or die trying

Geeks nationwide made an embarrassing collective sound last Wednesday as they recoiled in terror at the news that NASA’s experimental Sega Genesis gaming console, the first home video game system to be shot into space, had crash landed in the Utah desert after the 16-bit console’s parachutes failed to open upon re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere.

“This is a fucking disaster!” recoiled 28-year-old vintage gaming dweeb Chance Lambeau, wearing an Alex Kidd in Miracle World tee shirt he had silk-screened at great personal expense. “Finally, the world was going to get to see what the Genesis was really capable off, from its innovative System 16 processor to its wide library of classic games, but NASA had to screw the pooch and slam dunk the thing in the Alkali Salt Flats. Jeez. Game over, man.”

The Genesis has long held a special place in the hearts of video game geeks, ever since debuting in 1989 as the US’s first 16-bit gaming console for the home market. Offering a huge step up in performance from the popular 8-bit consoles of the day, including the much-loved Nintendo Entertainment System and the much settled-for Sega Master System, the Genesis opened up a new world of arcade-like gaming for spoiled white kids everywhere. And it came with Altered Beast.

NASA first conceived of sending a Genesis into space in 2000, with the stated goal of “doing some science stuff” and finding out if Sonic the Hedgehog would play faster in zero gravity. Though the sheer number of vintage gaming geeks employed by NASA made this explanation plausible to most, many believed the Genesis was simply the most advanced piece of equipment that NASA could afford due to severe budgetary cutbacks. According to unconfirmed sources, NASA picked up the Genesis console at a Cape Canaveral-area flea market for $10.

While NASA scientists insist that the Genesis mission was primarily about using the console’s unique chip architecture to collect solar dust or something, critics have called the mission an expensive excuse for NASA engineers to reminisce about their childhood console-gaming days, and to beat their old high score on Revenge of Shinobi in the name of science. Several have also pointed to NASA’s choice of the Dugway Proving Grounds in Utah for the Genesis re-entry, a location close to the hearts of retro gaming geeks ever since it inspired the early video game classic Dig-Dug.

Regardless of the mission’s true intent, NASA’s plan to catch the re-entering console using helicopters flown by Hollywood stunt pilots drew widespread skepticism even before the Genesis went down like a Walkman into the toilet.

“What were they thinking?” sneered console gaming guru Ben “Game Genie” Wilmington. “They were going to cherry-pick that thing out of the sky with helicopters while it screamed toward the earth and unbelievable speeds? That’s stupid, even for NASA. Those guys have been playing way too much Choplifter.”

Others have reacted with surprise to photos of the crash site and the Genesis’ impact crater in Utah’s salt flats, claiming that the Genesis pictured appears much larger than a standard model, and may have been warped by the effects of space travel. NASA scientists insist that a regular Genesis console was used, and claim to have the original warranty card in a box somewhere to prove it. Physicist Cole Janson also pointed out that outdated technology always seems smaller in memory, reminding readers that early VCRs were roughly the size of today’s microwave ovens.

NASA is still debating what to do with the broken console. The original scenario called for the Genesis to be transported back to NASA headquarters under armed guard immediately following touchdown, just in time for a heated tournament of NHL Hockey ‘94 that NASA scientists had been anticipating for months.

“We were really looking forward to having the Genesis back,” admitted a crestfallen Roger Neumann, Genesis project manager. “Now I don’t know what we’re going to do. Sweeney thinks we should sell what’s left for spare parts on eBay and pick up a Playstation instead, but most everybody here was pretty attached to the games we already had. Here at NASA, we’re not all about technology for technology’s sake, you know. Flashy graphics can only count for so much. We’ll figure out something though, we’re NASA. Maybe a quick trip to the moon would help lift everyone’s spirits. Couldn’t hurt.”

the commune news knows NASA’s pain whenever we remember dropping our Super Nintendo down the stairs while moving into the dorms in college. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you that’s a bummer. Ramon Nootles didn’t own a video game system as a kid, and in fact believed until recently that his parents were sincere when they told him that his combination of the board game Mystery Date and a VHS copy of the Ethan Hawke film of the same name comprised the zenith of video game technology.