Japan: A nation, a culture, and for those of us waging what will ultimately be a futile letter-writing campaign, the denotation of a difficulty one level above "very hard." This most prolific of island nations has given us culinary delights, arguably produced some of the best (or at the very least, very interesting) animation out there, and wrought untold psychological horror on the internet, in the form of not entirely SFW videos that remind
yours truly your hippie uncle of the time I got so "addled" that I ended up in the middle of the road at 6 AM, staring down what appeared to be a runway leading to the jaws of infinity that "bad experience he had when I was nineteen during the Sixties. Somewhere along the way, Japan became a Mecca for video games, and as such, they became a recognizable part of the culture. As we travelers of the internet also know, Japan also has a knack for producing some of gaming's most skilled players. Scores may be bested and speedruns may be broken, but there is one, virtually untapped feat: getting the lowest possible score in a video game. For the purposes of this exercise, said game was Super Mario World.
YouTube user "BiggestinJapan" was up to this self-imposed task, scoring an impressively low (for those who aren't actually going to watch half an hour of Mario) 500 points. To put that in perspective: jumping on an enemy lands you with 200 points, and the "bonus" at the end of each level is 50 points, with a multiplier dependent on the amount of time left on the clock - the lowest being one, which BiggestinJapan's devil sorcery allowed him to get with alarming consistency.
I'm not sure how you guys and gals feel about these sorts of videos, but they are something of a guilty pleasure of mine. The heart of a dyed in the wool nerd beats hard in my chest, and as such I have a keen appreciation for feats of skill in the gaming realm. While not the most useful asset one can have in life, I'll give BiggestinJapan, as well as his equally skilled peers, credit for having a level of dexterity that my infantile mind finds utterly staggering. It seems somehow undistinguished to clap my Doritos-stained mitts and giggle, so I'll simply adjust my monocle, take a casual sip of sherry, and say, "Well done, old chap.... Well done."