About Jesse

Jesse Bowline is almost definitely overthinking it.

I am a shadow

There is no time in my functional memory that does not include at least a passing knowledge of the existence of the ninja, so I can’t say for sure when I became aware of them. (Most likely it occurred during a way-too-young viewing of the 1980s Michael Dudikoff classic American Ninja series.) As with more or less every preadolescent with such inclinations, I became enamored with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in the latter part of the decade, and as previously noted, one of my first games was Ninja Gaiden.

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Nobody loves Dr. Fetus!

SMB: Those three letters are enough to make a gamer recall some of the greatest and (occasionally) some of the hardest times of their lives. Everyone who’s played SMB can think back with a sense of triumph to their successes, and more specifically, to their failures. Sometimes the memories might have more to do with what went wrong, sure, but there is definitely a point at which that success, that victory, is achieved. When that happens, it all becomes worthwhile.

And so it is with SMBSuper Meat Boy.

Oh, you thought I was talking about that other one?

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When the tires kiss the street

Racing simulations are probably great. I wouldn’t really know, given that whole thing where I am terrible at them.

I’ve said as much before. Gran Turismo? Lovely. Forza Motorsport? Amazing. My skills at them? Not so much. I’m much more inclined to Ridge Racer Type 4.

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What a Horrible Night to Have an Incorrect Quotation

As anyone who reads this knows, I’m a legacy gamer of sorts, at least insofar as my mom was playing video games before I was ever born. I was never scolded for playing too many games, even when maybe I should have been, but it was not long before I surpassed her in breadth of knowledge and skill when it came to gaming.

Before any of that, though, I didn’t know the difference between a penny and a quarter.

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Super Mario Bros: The Lost Sanity

When you take one of the most beloved and informative games of all time, jack up the difficulty somewhere just past sane, and hold it back from an adoring public for the better part of a decade, you can cause an ostensible adult to go airborne.

I swear that will make more sense in a minute.

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If it doesn’t say Micro Machines, it’s not the real thing.

I have not been much of a racing gamer for a while. I certainly respect how much the genre has evolved from its early days; both the Gran Turismo and Forza Motorsport series are an ever-improving apotheosis of racing at home, giving a simulation that is, in some cases, literally good enough to train us for driving on the real-life tracks the games represent

I learned a lot more about driving from these games than it is probably safe to publicly admit. Because of simulation racers, I think about lines and acceleration and vehicular physics in a way I maybe never would have grokked on my own. They were crucial to my skilled-but-not-necessarily-legal driving style.

The funny thing is, I suck at them.

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I knew then the war was already purposeless

Einhänder: because sometimes being the kamikaze vanguard in the war between the Moon and the Earth is just the right thing to do.

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Nice Shooting Captain

The most succinct description of Captain Skyhawk is probably that it was for people who thought Marble Madness would have been better if only you were flying a jet from Top Gun.

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