indefinite articles

Like anyone trapped in a state of suspended adolescence, I’ve made a name for myself in realms as far-flung as Zebes, Castlevania, Floating Island, and the Mushroom Kingdom. I’ve pillaged Bowser’s fiery keep more times than I can count — though, granted, it helps that he always leaves an ax standing behind his rickety suspension bridge. But through it all, I’ve never been able to shake the feeling that I’m not actually a fan of video games. I’m a fan of Mega Man.

The Blue Bomber’s adventures against the single-mindedly villainous Dr. Wily played such a critical role in my upbringing that I’m tempted to call him a third parent, or at least a second sibling. Mega Man 2, to this day the franchise’s standard-bearer, had such an impact on me that I wore out the tutorial tape at my local video store. A few years later, I was sternly reprimanded when I included a napalm factory in a miniature city I built as part of an after-school program — I had no idea what napalm was, but I did know that Mega Man 5 had a totally awesome Robot Master named Napalm Man.

Thanks to my extensive experience with series classic Mega Man 2, I can boast to potential employers that I can name all eight of Dr. Wily’s Robot Masters in less than two seconds.

In 1996, when the World Wide Web descended upon humanity and offered the world a never-ending fountain of useful information, my first instinct, of course, was to use it to learn more about Mega Man. Eager to show off my writing chops to an already-bustling online fan community, I embarked upon my masterpiece — a seven-part fan fiction epic that would draw upon all corners of the Mega Man universe and thereupon dazzle minds and set souls aflame. Twelve years later, all I remember was that Part Two told the poignant origin tale of a minor character named Ballade from the fourth Game Boy game.

It’s hard to pin down exactly why the series appealed to me so much at the time — or, for that matter, why it still appeals to me today as I continue to snub my nose at the siren song of maturity. Maybe it’s the fact that even with the endless possibilities offered by games as impressively open-ended as Grand Theft Auto IV, sometimes it’s just more relaxing to walk in a straight line and shoot. Or maybe it’s the sheer consistency of its brainless celebration of pleasure — whereas Mario and Sonic respectively represent the Beatles and Stones of the video game landscape, Mega Man is clearly the AC/DC.

Sadly, though my passion to fight for everlasting peace persisted, the series’ shift into darker territory with the Mega Man X series set the tone for every game that followed. As Capcom farmed out dozens of iterations over a decade-long period, I dutifully tried to keep up, but with each new subtitle (Zero, ZX, Battle Network, Star Force) it felt less and less like the little blue guy who once taught me how to live.

Luckily, the latest generation of home consoles has proven itself a raging juggernaut of nostalgia, with everything from Galaga to Bionic Commando being repackaged as high-definition, downloadable treats for the Information Age’s gaming masses. For this reason, higher authorities have deemed the market suitable for the unleashing of an honest-to-god, NES-style continuation of the original Mega Man series.

Same as it ever was. Same as it ever was. Same as it ever was.

Will Mega Man 9 be the exact same Mega Man game I’ve already played eight times? I’d be shocked if it weren’t, honestly. Does its release feel like a cheap lunge at my wallet laminated with the sentimentality of a bygone gaming youth? Sure, except that I play the older entries so frequently that I’m not convinced that said youth ever lapsed. So be it — your ploy has worked, Capcom. Now let’s see if you’ve still got the chops to give gamers a true taste of the NES fury.