Live Mario Kart
Because of the hundreds of food orders (and thus a closed kitchen); because of the lack of water; because of the long lines, dense crowds, thick volume, and overall “overstimulation,” because of an evening of transportation to, in my mind, a pre-pandemic reality, two homosexual men--Jake and Thomas--left a brewery immediately after arriving. And I followed. But all these conditions of their early departure, and unfortunately mine as well, formed through a sort of mass-hype that trended two years ago, and had never, to my knowledge, appeared in the United States, let alone any bar other than the single location hosting it at its initial inception: a Mario Kart tournament. This was not just any Mario Kart tournament. A Mario Kart Tournament scored by a live jazz band, accompanying the game in real time, synchronized to what occured on screen. And if a massive appeal globalized this occurance that once only happened in the UK, then that appeal turned into a hype filling several overflow parking lots that turned, finally, into screams and roars on the last lap, when the live music hit (*click* *click* *click* *click*) double time and first and second place competed closely for the winning title.
It was because of this hype-near-hysteria that the room, before Jake and Thomas arrived, electrified. I stood against a wall, next to others, packed, body to body, equally transfixed by the front screens. And I almost cried. It was almost religious: this intense concentration (from everyone in the room) on four adjacent television screens; this live music, bringing something so digital to reality; the engagement of everyone around. A crowd becoming a massive ‘we.’ We be here for Mario Kart. We be here to see it live.
“A Living Text” is what some people call the Bible, and now, after seeing, with my own eyes, this hungry and parched commitment to Nintendo (hallelujah), I cannot hesitate to call Mario Kart “The Living Game.”