Biweekly Music Wednesday! No. 42 ~Asteroid Belt~ (Star Fox: Assault)

Origin: Star Fox: Assault

Plays In: Mission 5 (Asteroid Belt - The Aparoid Menace)
Status: Arrangement
Arranged by: Yoshie Arakawa, Yoshinori Kawamoto

Love it or hate it, Star Fox: Assault's repertoire of orchestras may very well be the musical apex of Star Fox. The second Nintendo game to feature a full orchestra transformed a cheesy space shooter into a full-blown space opera; one still cheesy, mind, but now every story beat and character arc was granted more gravity and heft than ever before.

A number of songs from Star Fox 64 are given the orchestral spotlight, albeit with a slower motif. Some were disappointed it didn't emphasize  fast-paced action, but I can't imagine a more fitting tradeoff. Just take the fan-favorite arrangement of the Star Wolf theme: a cutthroat skirmish between two adversaries is revamped into the splendor of their joint destiny: two rivals, the greatest pilots in the galaxy, locked into glorious combat.

We also see this in one of my personal favorites: this foreboding arrangement of Meteo. Encapsulating the never-ending awe of space, it's a perfect complement to the stage's context: hunting down an old enemy within the endless black, as familiar wreckage and abandoned machinery haunt the Star Fox Team.

Even taken on its own, it holds such raw power. I envision slowly losing myself into the infinite darkness, the innumerable constellations and nebulae of the Lylat System swallowing me whole. The remains of the Gorgon war machine, destroyed in the battle of Area 6, gloomily drifting across the galaxy until resting at the vapor of Sector Y. The Pleiades, sailing across the cosmos with no pilot, guided by a purpose known only to those who created it.

Only once before had Star Fox presented such a pure depiction of space: the previously-covered Sector Y from the original game. Whereas that waltz depicted the grand beauty of space, this one commands its ever-lasting dread; the mystery of the unknown. But even such qualities hold such an imposing allure on their own, and I can't help but be swept up every time I listen. Even now, its gripping enigma terrifies me, as I imagine the Arwing's cockpit growing ever more claustrophobic in the depths of space.

Some days, I just want to lose myself into whatever reverie such songs provide me. The responsibilities of the adult world always stop me, and in truth, even as a child I caught myself saying, "I don't have time for this." But to think eternally with no concept of time and responsibility...the treasures that could be surely mined from such meditation captivates me.

Spinning. Falling. Absorbing. Soaring. Dreaming. Gaping. Sailing.

I want to create and imagine forever.

But not today. Someday, surely.

Final Thoughts: Hearing the original song pop up in Star Fox Zero was pretty fun, especially since its accompanying level didn't conform to the typical "asteroid field" template found earlier in the series. 

A Lesson in Patience

Wh..what is that?

It couldn't possibly be..!

It is! My very own Famicom. Wow.

Easily my most expensive purchase at Otakon (about $99, plus tax), obtaining the Japanese NES has been a goal of mine for a while. As an aspiring Nintendo archivist, it's a dream of mine to obtain every piece of Nintendo hardware and software out there, and what better place to start than the original home console that started it all? Having studied Japanese over the past year, I was also eager to put my studies to the test.

Alas, but I've already hit a snag. While the Otakon vendor was kind enough to include the required power adapter/AV cable, I'd forgotten the Famicom requires certain channel frequencies to display the game on American televisions...all of which aren't available on the only CRT in the house! Agh!

To make matters worse...well, take a look below.

What? Is that a crack?!? And is the red casing loose? Was I sold a faulty Famicom?!? Bring me the one responsible, now!

...actually, I'm pretty sure it was an accident on my part. While carrying it around in a bag at the convention, the console's weight was too much and it ripped through, slamming onto the floor with a loud CLACK! Naturally, I was scared, but a quick inspection showed nothing wrong...so I shoved it in my backpack.

"Well, why didn't you put it in your backpack in the first place," you may ask. Well, a while back I learned that filling backpacks with game cases isn't a swell idea, as they get punctured with holes and the like, so I guess that fear spread to any and all valuable game merch. Anyway, it wasn't until I got home that I noticed the crack, and the casing was actually a lot looser; in fact, you actually see the wires inside. Thankfully, I shifted it around the above plug's casing insert, and it's currently as you see it now.

The question is...does it work? In my inspection and testing, I've noticed the Famicom has two flaws in comparison to the NES, bhe first one being there is no LED light to signal whether it's off or on. I was frequently shifting through channels to see whether or not it'd come on, but due to the lack of an LED, I had no idea whether or not it was actually, well, on.

The other flaw? Well, both of the console's controllers are hooked to the console, meaning you can't replace them. When considering my bad luck, take a closer look at my two controllers and guess which one is Player One.

Why, the scratched-up one with the rough surface, of course! Boy, am I screwed.

Scuffs, scratches and cracks are the shame of any collector, and it seems I'm inexorably drawn to such blemishes. My game cases keep getting punctures, my Nendoroid stands break with little to no hope of replacement, my cats like knocking down my One Piece statues...as I'm clumsy by nature, it weighs heavily on me, and I beat myself up for it constantly.

In regards to the actual games, it's an even tougher subject. It's not like they're making anymore Famicoms, y'know? Forget the possibility of wasted money: a broken Famicom would mean one less functioning legend in the world that someone else could've enjoyed...and yet, don't all physical products break down eventually? Just ask my SNES and N64 cartrdiges: in a phenomenon that, to my surprise, has yet to be cataloged over the internet, they're riddled with graphical glitches from meshed-together 3D polygons to a morphing white square in the corner of Kirby Super Star. If it sounds confusing, I'm honestly just as much at a loss as you are. Regardless, it's a very cynical outlook, especially when considering Nintendo's Virtual Console filters.

It extends outside my hobbies, too. I frequently miss cues to do chores around the house,, I speak too fast when I don't mean to...it's something I can't escape. Just another trait of being an Aspie, I suppose.

I do wonder if it's a sign not to rush into things too fast? Maybe my Japanese just isn't ready yet, and I lack a steady job, so I need to discipline myself and save money. Furthermore, my computer is quite outdated, and I'm starting to lack space for display and archive purposes: as I'm branching out to study books for future writing endeavors, I lack a proper bookcase to store them all in, as well as a table and containers for future statues, Nendoroids. and the like. Should I hold off on that all until I move out into my dream home?

Probably, but I wonder how long I'll be able to hold out. The Otakon vendor I purchased the Famicom from happens to be based in New York City, and I just so happen to be heading down down there this November for my birthday, so maybe they can help me with my Famicom (and provide some more info on hooking it up).

Regardless, what's most important is that I further work on pushing myself forward with my writing and Leave Luck to Heaven's future. If it takes broken products and a lesson in patience to express that, so be it.

Oh, and on a semi-related note: the Detective Conan figure I also purchased got a weird scuff on his hat, too.

why does this keep happening to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee