Why
I hate the Konix Speedking.
It's said that a bad workman always blames his
tools. A logically-flawed argument if ever I've heard one. (For
example, the plumber who came to fix the cistern overflow in our
toilet and left it worse than it was before - he didn't blame
his tools. He just fucked straight off and didn't care. I sorted
it out myself in the end. Piece of piss.)
And of course, the implicit extension of this
whole workman/tools argument is that if you blame your tools then
therefore you are bad workman. Well, cock. Suppose - a catastrophic
NHS funding crisis. Sir Percival Farquharson, top surgeon, finds
himself having to do a heart transplant with the plastic cutlery
from the canteen. He makes a valiant effort, but in the end one
of the spoons wedged in place to hold up the ribcage snaps, and
spears a ventricle. Disaster. Sir Percival storms out of theatre,
moaning about bastarding plastic cutlery and how it has no place
in modern surgical practice. Does everyone stand around and point,
muttering how he must be a really bad surgeon? Probably not; especially
not if they want to get through the day without a flimsy, easily-splintered
toy knife getting jammed in an eyeball by Sir Percival.
"Not a word, you underlings, not
a fucking word."
I'm not a surgeon. But I've been in exactly
the same situation as poor old Sir Percival Farquharson. And by
'exactly the same' I of course mean 'almost entirely different'.
I well remember the fuss about the Konix Knobbing
Speedking back in the day. The big thing about it was its special
ergonomic design, giving it the appearance of a bad Henry Moore
sculpture with a bright orange dildo sticking out of the top.
It had microswitches and stuff. It had buttons in special places,
so as to enhance your button-pressing experience, I'd imagine.
It had go-faster stripes.
Fan-bloody-tastic. And indeed I still hear people
going on about how wonderful their Speedkings were, and how they
still use them today thanks to some special interface that they
ordered from Hong Kong or something.
Well, good for you! No, really, I'm delighted.
I, however, hate the Konix Twatting Speedking
as Sir Percival now hates that canteen cutlery. I went through
a few joysticks back in the day. I seem to recall a succession
of Quickshots and Quickshot 2s, each of their flimsy bodies destroyed
by not very much exertion at all. Then I acquired a Tac-2, a superb
piece of joystick design. It was solid, it was responsive and
it had an entirely superfluous second button.
Multiple button-mashing goodness.
(Ah, well, I say superfluous. Both the buttons
were wired to the same input, y'see. But what it at least meant
was that you could still use the thing if you were left-handed.
Unlike the Konix Bastarding Speedking. And before you ask, no.
I'm not left-handed. Just making a point.)
It was one of the buttons that died on the Tac-2,
I seem to recall. The stick itself, I'll wager, is buried beneath
hundreds of tonnes of High Wycombe landfill and probably still
in perfect working order, if you want to go looking for it. I
wouldn't bother, really. Anyway, unable to find a replacement
Tac-2 I went for the Slik Stik - a kind of miniature Tac-2 with
only one button. And it is possibly the greatest joystick I've
ever had the pleasure of owning. It worked. It stood up to obscene
amounts of punishment. It carried on working. The stick itself
had very little travel and a dead action - no clicking microswitches
here. Heck, I just liked it a lot.
And with my Slik Stik I became very good at
Mega Apocalypse. Quite how I knew I was especially good, I'm not
sure. Possibly I looked at Scorelord's pages and worked it out
from there. It was a long time ago. Point is, I was good. I could
get all the power-ups without fail, and grabbing them all was
vital to scores in Mega Apocalypse. It's one of a handful of games
I can confidently claim to have ruled at.
I'd be able to claim it with a lot more confidence
if it wasn't for the Konix Shitting Speedking. There was this
competition, right. Come to the PCW Show or similar, play Mega
Apocalypse, win a special prize if you got the high score. Beats
me what the prize was. That wasn't the point. The point was that
I had a pretty good chance of winning, having my skills recognised,
becoming a legendary computer game-winning person and getting
all the fame and fortune that would doubtless come with it.
(Never happens, of course. I work with someone
who was once the European Sega Champion. He made a video with
Dominik Diamond and everything, and he's entirely lacking in fame
and fortune. He has, however, wrestled alligators for Loaded magazine.
Swings and roundabouts, see?)
Along I went. Headed for the Martech stand.
Took a look at the leaderboard and noted with glee that the current
high score was easily thrashable. Took a look around the show
for a bit. Came back to the Martech stand to write my name large
in the annals of gaming history.
Was handed a Konix Bum-Gaping Speedking.
Kid's these days, with their rumble
paks - don't know they're fuckin' born.
Put in the most cack-handed performance of all
time.
The stick was the wrong shape. My thumb was
in the wrong place. The fire button was in the wrong place. It
was all wrong, and the alien kit in my hand stole my concentration
from the game, making me miss not only the first vital power-up,
but the second as well (with which I could have easily redeemed
myself). It was the horrid clickyclicky microswitching put me
right off. I turned-in a frankly laughable score and slunk away
forever.
You might say it was nerves. I'm telling you
it was the Konix Pissing Speedking. And I will always hate it
for robbing me of an early moment of glory. Bastard.
JEDBURGH,
January 2003.
Comment
Here. (Its working again).
____________________________________________________________________
Things to 'Make' and 'Do'.
Learn how joysticks work.
Discover Chelynch's
favourite Rock'n'Roll band - the Joysticks.
Host a party
and give-in to the magic of plastic cutlery.
____________________________________________________________________
|
