{"id":3198,"date":"2017-03-06T13:02:19","date_gmt":"2017-03-06T18:02:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.bandsiusetalike.com\/biul\/?p=3198"},"modified":"2017-03-08T13:09:17","modified_gmt":"2017-03-08T18:09:17","slug":"parappa-the-crapper","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.bandsiusetalike.com\/biul\/parappa-the-crapper\/","title":{"rendered":"PaRappa the Crapper"},"content":{"rendered":"

Long ago, in the Before Times, I was dating a woman with a very young daughter. I had not yet gelled as an artistic entity, and was in the process of learning that I’m really not cut out to be a father, even a surrogate one. This became apparent on two occasions. Both were attempts on my part to make a connection with a kid. Both failed hilariously.<\/p>\n

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The first was the purchase of a “children’s book”. I spent hours at Books-A-Million (down the block from Media Play) hunting for just the right one. It had to be colorful, clever, and not condescending. I refused to buy anything “kiddie”, on principle. It had to be something that enticed, thrilled, and sparked the imagination, like the books I read in my grade school library.<\/p>\n

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Finally, I found one. It was written and drawn by someone I had the utmost admiration for. It had a unique story, told across big colorful pages. It was clever in its humor. I took it to the cashier, went home, and called my girlfriend on the landline to tell her how awesome I was. She was skeptical, and asked to review the book before gifting it to her daughter.<\/p>\n

I was hurt, but I capitulated anyway, and let her see it.<\/p>\n

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I got a talking-to, and the daughter never got the book. It’s about a worm, who hates his life and won’t eat his dirt because there’s a hair in it. Father Worm goes on to explain the origin of the hair; the scalp of a maiden who ate a poisonous mushroom and decomposed on the forest floor. It’s very funny, just like\u00a0The Far Side<\/em>, but my girlfriend at the time didn’t think so, and she complained of a “secret message” in\u00a0the back that was especially egregious. Then she stayed mad for a while.<\/p>\n

Confused, I opened the soon-to-be-regrettably-returned book and hunted the offending message. I have to hand it to Gary Larson; it took me a while, and it completely slipped past me until then.<\/p>\n

On the back page, was a large illustration of a writhing pile of worms, all grinning wide-eyed at the reader. Their long bodies spelled out three words:\u00a0“SEE YOU SOON”.\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

I think that’s hysterical, but it might keep an 8-year-old up at night.<\/p>\n

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Oh,\u00a0you will. In\u00a0mortality.<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n

My second attempt at connecting with the daughter was the moment I realized I’m more Walter Matthau than Tony Curtis. It involved a video game called “PaRappa the Rapper”, and much anguish.<\/p>\n

See, before the book, I made a vague stab at connecting with the kid through the only real way I know; toys. A Transformer, duh. Due to the era, it was a Fuzor Silverbolt. But this felt too easy, so I moved to books, and when that failed, back to video games. As a “parent”, I have the ethical spectrum of a\u00a0drunken Oompa-Loompa.<\/p>\n

I had many grand times with my old PlayStation, playing\u00a0Tomb Raider, Resident Evil,\u00a0<\/em>and\u00a0Destruction Derby.\u00a0<\/em>I figured it would be a great method of bonding with a child, like my dad did with me, and\u00a0Space Invaders<\/em> on Atari 2600. All I needed was\u00a0the right game. Something without death, big tits or terrifying monsters.*<\/p>\n

[*Once, I was playing\u00a0Resident Evil 3<\/em> and reclining comfortably on my back, when the Nemesis burst through the wall. I let out a legitimate fear-gasp so loud it made the neighbor’s dog start barking. Just a deafening, belch-like\u00a0“DJEEEEEEHHHHHUUUUUUP”<\/em><\/strong>.]<\/p>\n

I thought\u00a0PaRappa the Rapper<\/em> would be the bridge of acceptance with the daughter. When it comes to raising kids, I make an excellent lawn dart.<\/p>\n

PaRappa\u00a0<\/em>is a “rhythm game”, which means you hit the buttons on the controller in time with symbols on the screen.\u00a0Dance Dance Revolution<\/em> is the next and more popular incarnation, using a footpad as a controller. But with\u00a0PaRappa,<\/em> the player needed to know the buttons on the PlayStation controller by their symbols, and have the ability to push them rapidly while looking at the TV screen. I could do this, so I blithely assumed an 8-year-old girl could do it.\u00a0I was a dead man.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Against the mother’s wishes, I dragged my PlayStation over to her house and set it up. I was fully confident that the daughter would be immediately charmed by the colorful “paper” characters; the game’s visual gimmick was that the people were all flat. Surely you’re familiar with Chop Chop Master Onion, and\u00a0the greatest video game rap song of all time.\u00a0<\/strong>Right?<\/p>\n