SUPER MARIO SPIN-OFF COVERS

Today’s article is all about the cover art from various Super Mario spin-offs, but I don’t mean the kind of spin-offs we’re all familiar with. We all know about Mario’s secondary careers as a doctor or a go-kart driver or a competitor in a multiverse-spanning fighting tournament where he may or may not be a child’s toy brought to life by a magical floating hand. No, these are the really obscure Mario spin-offs. Knitting is involved. We’ll get to that, but let’s begin with something you might actually have heard of.

Mario’s Time Machine, NES

One of several games in the Mario Discovery Series, Mario’s Time Machine is all about learning history. What you’ll actually learn from this cover art, and all the others in this article, is that Mario never, ever closes his goddamn mouth. I think there’s one, maybe two pieces of cover art I looked at for this article where Mario’s gob isn’t hanging open. Sometimes he’s smiling, sometimes it’s the slack-jawed gaping of a man partway through a complex dental procedure, but his mouth is (almost) always open.
As for the rest of this cover, what’s going on? Well, Abraham Lincoln is there, posed in a way that suggests he’s doing his best Tommy Cooper impression. I thought the upside-down bloke at the bottom was Phil Collins at first glance, but I think it’s supposed to be Benjamin Franklin. That’s disappointing, because Mario really does look like the kind of person who would use a time machine to return to 1985 so he can catch the No Jacket Required tour.
Also, the trail coming out of the time machine implies that Mario flew out of that dinosaur’s mouth, promising a level of excitement that Mario’s Time Machine simply cannot provide.

Mario’s Time Machine, PC

The PC CD-ROM version of Mario’s Time Machine also comes with this cover art, and it’s a real artefact of nineties graphic design, huh? Ugly elements placed seemingly at random, logos all over the place and Mario pointing at a bunch of clipart Koopa Troopas. “Look,” says Mario, “Koopa Troopas. I will jump on them.” He’s a simple man with simple needs.

Mario Is Missing!, SNES

He’s right there, Luigi! Are you deaf? Bowser’s not the stealthiest of villains, I can’t believe he’s abducting Mario without making enough noise to get your attention. This is why Mario’s the hero and you’re the sidekick, Luigi. Unless… oh ho, I get it, Luigi is fed up of languishing in his big brother’s shadow, so he lets Mario be kidnapped and prepares to step into the limelight. Well, congratulations, Luigi. You’re the star now. Unfortunately the game you’re starring in is Mario is Missing, so you’ve ended up with a real monkey’s paw of a wish there.

Mario Teaches Typing 2, PC

Mario teaches typing, but he’s not doing a very good job at it. If you follow the trail he’s left behind, he appears to have typed out “wsx.” That might be a word in the Mushroom Kingdom, friendo, but here in the real world it doesn’t mean anything unless you’re showing your appreciation for the obscure and short-lived wrestling programme Wrestling Society X. Phil Collins and unloved wrestling franchises? I’m painting a really weird picture of what Mario’s downtime consists of here.
Aside from his poor typing, there are a couple of interesting thing in this one. The first is that this picture of Mario should clearly be airbrushed on the side of a dodgy carnival ride rather than appearing on the cover of an official product. I can see it now, Mario on the side of a swinging pirate ship ride, in between a picture of a bootleg Batman who looks like he’s just smelled one of Ace the Bat-Hound’s farts and a Minion. The other is the age rating on the right. I think if you reach the age of 102 without having learned how to type, it’s fair enough to suggest you’ll never master it even with Mario’s help.

Mario Teaches Typing, PC

Of course, there being a Mario Teaches Typing 2 means there was an original, but the cover’s not very interesting. Mario looks just like official art that’s been placed on top of a keyboard. Neither cover really sells the idea that Mario’s teaching typing rather than fleeing from a giant keyboard.

Mario Roulette, arcade

To play Mario Roulette, you load a single Bullet Bill into the chamber of a revolver…

Mario’s Early Years: Fun With Numbers, PC

Okay, that last one got a bit dark, but the image of Mario being caught unawares by a photographer, looking guilty as he hangs around a playground full of children, is a whole different thing. Jesus Christ, could you not have shown Mario actually having fun in his usual wholesome manner? You know, maybe avoid drawing him to look as furtive as possible? Instead, let’s focus on the kid at the top, who is definitely about to smash the other kids over the head with that giant number 3.

Mario’s Early Years: Fun With Numbers, SNES

Don’t lie to me, Mario. You can’t have fun with numbers. This is fun on a see-saw, with numbers nearby. Sure, mathematicians will tell you that every aspect of the universe is controlled by numbers and as such all fun springs from maths – especially physics-based fun like you’ll find on see-saws – but who ever listened to a mathematician? Not me! That’s why I failed the maths parts of my degree. Twice.

Mario’s Early Years: Fun With Letters, PC

That’s more like it. You can definitely have fun with letters. Not on this website, but in other places.
Mario’s problems with keeping his mouth shut have reached crisis point in this one, with his gob desperately trying to reposition itself to the back of his neck.

Super Mario Bros. Print World, PC

“Now you’re printing with power,” hah. As someone old enough to remember using dot-matrix printers and continuous paper, I can testify that using those things definitely sounded powerful, by which I mean they made a right racket. But what better use could continuous paper be put to than printing out enormous Super Mario banners? I know if I’d had this software as a kid I’d have done nothing but. Every square inch of my house would have been covered in low-resolution computer copies of Super Mario Bros. 3-era Mario artwork. Getting a birthday card with best wishes from the Mario Brothers themselves? What could be cooler than that? However, some of the print-out choices on this cover are a little strange. “Thank you! Here’s a picture of a fire-breathing snake!” is a weird one, unless you’re thanking someone for helping you beat Tricylde in Mario 2. As for the Super Track Meet banner, I’d imagine Nintendo’s lawyers would be all over you if you tried to hang it in your school or wherever.

Hotel Mario, CD-i

Welcome to the Hotel Mario: such a lovely place, or at least it would be if “Mario” had four syllables so I could do a parody of the Hotel California lyrics. It must be a lovely place, if it’s home to Goombas that dress like Elvis. I know Hotel Mario is one of the least-beloved of all Mario games, but I’m looking at this and imagining the Mushroom Kingdom’s version of Las Vegas, where Elvis-impersonating mushrooms do sets including such hits as “Blue Suede Shrooms” and “Viva Las Fungus.”
I’m not so fond of how the bad guys seem to have undergone the same process that they put Kirby through when he appears on American box art. That Boo’s the worst, their usual spooky mischievousness replaced by a look of genuine rage directed towards Mario. The worst thing of all, however, is the position of Mario’s leg. Take a close look at it, and you’ll notice that it’s sticking directly out of Mario’s crotch rather than being attached to his hips. I’m a little worried it’s not a leg at all.

Mario’s Fundamentals, PC

It looks like Mario’s added “game show host” to his long list of careers, huh? He looks so happy, firing games and pastimes out of his tuxedo jacket. He’s probably just glad he won’t have to jump over any bottomless caverns or lava pits while he’s compering.  The worst he’ll have to deal with is Yoshi eating the draughts board.
As with so many of these covers, this image brings home how just how many times I’ve seen Mario over the years and just how fixed his official image is. Mario’s look shifted around a bit in the NES era and certainly back when he was appearing in arcade games, but since Super Mario 64 he has looked identical in pretty much every single piece of artwork Nintendo have put out. The side effect of this is that you can tell, immediately and at a glance, when Mario hasn’t been drawn by Nintendo themselves. This one’s an obvious case, because Mario doesn’t usually look like an over-inflated pool toy, but even when the images are very accurate they still always seem to be missing that essential Nintendo-ness that marks them out as the real deal.

Mario Party-e, GBA e-Reader

This one’s just nice. Everyone seems to be having a good time together as friends, which implies they’re not actually playing Mario Party. Princess Peach is in a relaxed mood during a rare period in which she’s not an abductee, and she offers the audience a playful wink. Wario and Waluigi look like the inseparable buddies we all know they are. Princess Daisy is shocked by Waluigi’s monster mushroom. However, best of all is Donkey Kong up in the top-left corner. He doesn’t have a bloody clue what’s going on, does he? They should have called this game Mario Party-e feat. Donkey Kong Screaming Invective Into The Uncaring Universe.

Super Mario World redemption game, arcade.

Super Mario’s back and he’s taking quarters, beating up Toads and stealing their dinner money! Finally realised that carrying around those massive Mushroom Kingdom coins is a pain in the arse when he needs to fill up the parking meter, has he? According to this flyer Mario’s the number one most recognisable character in the world, so you’d think he’d be able to park wherever the hell he likes, but I guess not. Relatedly, isn’t it nice that a chubby Italian plumber with a carefree nature and a big bushy moustache became the world’s most recognisable character? When you describe him like that, it’s a wonder anyone remembers him at all and a shock that he’s never been replaced by a “cooler” character. Fortunately, Nintendo seem unconcerned with the notion of “cool.”
As for the artwork, it’s all tracings of official art that seem to have been coloured with felt-tipped pens, so it looks pretty okay. Still, I’m not sure why the artist positioned Mario and Yoshi to look as though they’re about to slam face-first into the ground. The artist’s yellow pen obviously ran out at some point, and it’s strange to see some of these familiar foes coloured in green. I don’t know why Koopa Troopas aren’t coloured green in the first place, actually. Surely turtles are usually more green than they are yellow?

Super Mario Bros. Special, PC-88

Just two quick things to mention with this one: one is the charming expression of slow-witted contentment on the mushroom Mario’s holding. That mushroom might be about to get eaten so Mario can double in size, but it’s just happy to be out in the fresh air and meeting new people. The other thing is the Hammer Brother on the left. Every time I look at it I see the ear-guard of its helmet as its left eye, giving it a strangely Cubist vibe, or more accurately making it look like one of the many, many Super Mario character I drew when I was about seven years old.

Super Mario Bros. And Friends: When I Grow Up, PC

Mario’s quest to become the ultimate dilettante continues as he takes on a job with the police force. Don’t worry, he’ll be bored with it soon enough. He’s only on traffic duty, it’s not like he’s having shoot-outs with drug lords or anything. He’s even convinced Luigi to get a proper job as a firefighter, and aren’t they both having a jolly old time in their uniforms? Ho ho, what fun. Until you see the speed lines coming off Luigi’s fire engine and realise there’s no way he’ll be able to brake in time to avoid committing fratricide. It’s a good job this is happening right outside a doctor’s clinic, they might at least be able to save some of Mario’s organs for transplant. And hey, maybe Donkey Kong’s moonlighting as a nurse or something? That’d be fun.

I Am A Teacher: Super Mario Sweater, Famicom Disk System

Finally, as promised, knitting. Yes, this is a “game” that lets you design knitting patterns for sweaters with Super Mario pictures on them. As far as I can tell, despite the title it doesn’t actually teach you how to knit a sweater. It’s hardly the weirdest thing to have Mario’s name attached to it, not when the Super Mario Bros. movie exists, but it does mean that somewhere in Japan, stuffed in the bottom of a wardrobe and long forgotten, there must be at least one Mario sweater made using this software. You can just imagine some kid pestering his grandparents to make it for them, wearing it to school and showing off the 8-bit Goombas emblazoned across their chest, and that’s a strangely affecting thought. I know I would have wanted a Mario jumper. It’d have made a nice change from the fluorescent-coloured bootleg Simpsons t-shirts I seem to be wearing in every photo from my childhood.

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SOME DISTURBING FACETS OF THE SUPER MARIO UNIVERSE

Think about the Super Mario Bros. games. Go on, remember the blue skies and green hills, hum the jaunty theme music, imagine saving the Princess and receiving the grand reward of a cake and maybe, just maybe, a chaste peck on the cheek. Doesn't that sound magical and wonderful? Well, you're wrong. As candy-coated and sugar-frosted as it may seem at first glance, the universe of the Super Mario games holds some dark and disturbing undercurrents.

Soulless and immortal, Mario will crush all those who oppose him.

The Great Goomba Uprising

The Mushroom Kingdom is a happy place, a bountiful kingdom ruled over by a benevolent pink-clad monarch and policed by Mario and, to a lesser extent, Luigi. Everyone goes about their daily lives doing whatever it is young Toads and Toadettes like to do - having tea parties, watching the stars, generally being adorable, that kind of thing. It is a land free of want where all are content... or so it would seem, but that can't possibly be the case.
Take the poor, benighted Goomba: definitely the bottom block on the totem pole of Bowser's forces. They exist only to patrol Bowser's conquered domains by slowly moving back and forth, and once Mario arrives to save the day they are, to put it bluntly, fucked. Sure, the hero plumber might lose a life or two by getting careless and walking into a Goomba, but the Goombas really have no defence against him. They are cannon fodder, a shield of fungal flesh that does nothing more than give Bowser an extra minute or two of gloating time before Mario catches up to him. They are the squishy oil that lubricates Bowser's dark machinery, and the best they can hope for is a quick, painless death.
But they're evil monsters, right? They don't know any better. Well, no. The Super Mario Bros. instruction manual clearly states that they are "mushrooms who betrayed the Mushroom Kingdom." They weren't always bad, but at some point they switched sides and cast their lot in with Bowser. This leaves one big question: why? The Mushroom Kingdom, as previously discussed, is always depicted as a wonderous, colorful place where no-one is ever sad (unless Bowser's doing some kidnapping at that exact moment.) What, then, could be so bad that it made the Goombas turn their back on paradise and join the forces of evil, where all that awaits them is a swift and meaningless death beneath the heel of Mario's boot? What could Bowser have possibly offered them that would have made that seem like a good idea? Perhaps the reason is more sinister, and it wasn't that Bowser's offer was good but that the Mushroom Kingdom was really, really awful.

 
Note that this clearly says Goombas die when stomped on.

It's easy to imagine the Goombas as a slave race, toiling away for the Mushroom Kingdom's benefit while Princess Peach and her followers live the high-life of go-karting and desserts, but I think it's more likely that it was a question of free will and Goomba self-determination. I mean, just look at a Goomba - they're grumpy as hell.

Always with the downturned mouth, the solemn expression, and I imagine that in the pastel tyranny that Peach has created being grumpy is a crime above all others. "No-one's allowed to be sad in the Mushroom Kingdom!" says Peach. "Screw you," says the Goomba, and Peach has him locked away and "re-educated". All the Goombas wanted was to be able to express their natural miserablism in peace, and so they chose battle and death over betraying the very essence of their being. God bless you, noble Goombas. May shoals of Cheep-Cheeps sing you to your rest.

Bowser's Betrayal of the Proletariat

The wars are fought, many lives are claimed and in the end nothing changes. The Goombas and other races under Bowser's command have suffered great hardships and still they remain a distrusted underclass, but their pain is not over yet because as soon as the dust settles, what does Bowser do? He heads straight over to his sworn enemies and joins them in their social activities.

Golf, football, baseball, go-karting: between kidnapping attempts, the major players in the Mushroom Kingdom's eternal power struggle get together to play games and generally have a swell time together. Imagine how that feels for the poor Goombas, seeing the leader to whom they have fixed all their hopes for freedom hanging out with the regent who oppresses them and her super-soldier bodyguards! Sometimes, they even have a Mario Party. A party! Fraternising with those you have sworn to destroy, those responsible for the death of countless Goombas and Koopa Troopas - it's like Richard Nixon and Ho Chi Minh getting together for a game of squash and a few bevvies.
Of course, this just goes to show that Bowser's attempts to conquer Princess Peach's lands and abduct her for... whatever reasons he has for abducting her are nothing more than a game, a game of chess played with innocent lives between the Mushroom Kingdom's social elite. Mario has no real fear of Bowser, he knows that their battles are staged for the amusement of upper echelons of the Princess's court - why else would he keep inviting him golfing?

Look, he doesn't even enjoy it!

Another explanation is that the Mushroom Kingdom is in a 1984-esque condition of perpetual war, organised by the two "rival" sides to keep the population vulnerable, scared and malleable. It also has the effect of thinning out the number of "less desirable" inhabitants such as the Goombas, which is a necessity to keep Mario satisfied - I mean, look at the gut on him!

Mario is easily the most physically active person in the Mushroom Kingdom, his life consisting of either the marathon steeplechase that makes up his attempts to rescue the Princess or a wide variety of sporting pastimes. What vast quantities of calories must be funnelled into him in order to maintain his considerable girth after all that exercise? There is simply not enough food in the Mushroom Kingdom to support both Mario's insatiable hunger and a large population of expendable fungoids. The endless wars serve merely to keep Mario's plate full. If you want a picture of the Mushroom Kingdom, imagine a plumber's boot stamping on a mushroom - forever.

Mario's Inexorable Fate

Perhaps it is unfair to cast Mario in the role of villain - after all, what choice did he have in the matter? Even as a baby, his unusual powers were noted and attempts were made to kidnap him.

He was saved only through the actions of a race of sentient dinosaur people (whom he later repaid by using them as his personal transport, despite his superhuman running and jumping abilities) and reunited with his parents in the Mushroom Kingdom. His parents were never seen again. Here, then, is Mario the Hero - a man with powers that place him on a pedestal high above those around him, a man whose real family (Luigi excepted) are long gone, a man in a land full of weird mushroom men with incredibly annoying voices. He's like Superman, (apart from the mushroom thing,) except where Clark Kent had humankind around him to help him discover his place in the world, all Mario has are his useless brother and Princess Peach. Is there any wonder that he's constantly at Peach's command? She is the only woman of his species around most of the time. If she's kidnapped Mario has to save her, has to do whatever it takes, because the crippling loneliness of only having Luigi for human company would no doubt destroy him. Since birth he has been marked out as a protector, a hero, the one person who can battle Bowser. The fate of the entire Mushroom Kingdom rests solely on his shoulders, and has done since his youth. We should not hate Mario - we should pity him.

Necromancy

Where Mario's efforts to keep the peace may be questionable, Bowser's go beyond this into the depth of the foulest black magic. It is clear that in the Super Mario universe, there is a realm beyond death from which spirits may return, once again pressed into battle, doomed to repeat this endless conflict for all time.
For one thing, there are ghosts. Boos, to be precise: they are everywhere and they are almost always malevolent creatures whose mischievous, peek-a-boo nature is nothing but a sham designed to lure Mario to his doom, perhaps in the vain hope that defeating him will please Bowser enough that they will be released from their bondage and allowed to rest in peace. Maybe we are mistaken by the Boo's ghost-like nature, though. Perhaps they are not actually the spirits of the dead but a species that has happened to evolve the appearance and mannerisms that we from outside the Mushroom Kingdom would associate with ghosts. After all, this is a world where mushroom-men are common and even the distant hills have facial features, so perhaps their ghostliness is mere coincidence. The same cannot be said of the Dry Bones.

That is clearly the skeleton of a Koopa Troopa, resurrected from the grave to serve Bowser even as the very flesh falls from its bones. Death is no release in Bowser's domain, there is no peace to be found in the cold darkness of eternity - there is only the dusty rattle of your bones, forever. The original Super Mario Bros. manual describes Bowser as a "Sorcerer King," and I think it's fairly obvious that he majored in Necromancy. Nothing is sacred to him. He will use any means available in order to accomplish his fiendish goals. Don't forget that Bowser is someone who, knowing full well that he couldn't defeat Mario, sent his own children into battle in his stead, where they were crushed, beaten and kicked into pools of molten rock. If nuclear weapons had been invented in the Mushroom Kingdom, the Princess' castle would be nothing more than a smoking crater by now.

Mostly Necromancy, some dabbling in sawing ladies in half.

Mario's Wholesale Slaughter of Countless Sentient Beings

In the end, it boils down to this: Mario is a genocidal ubermensch who has the blood (or fungal equivalent) of millions of his hands. There can be no doubt that these poor creatures have died - try jumping on a mushroom and see what happens. There's no coming back from that.

He regularly kicks turtles out of their shells, which may seem less severe, but a turtle's shell is connected directly to its spine. You can imagine how that works if you're suddenly launched from your shell by the weight of a fat plumber.

"OH DEAR GOD THE PAIN!!"

Let us also remember that Bowser's minions are not mere animals, mindless beasts that should be dealt with as one would deal with a rabid dog - these are sentient, feeling creatures. They are regularly depicted as having homes, communities, families, relationship, hopes, dreams, all destroyed without a second thought during Mario's inhuman rampages. He doesn't try to avoid them, or incapacitate them, he just straight-up murders them. Those Goombas you just killed? They had families. That Koopa Troopa you kicked into a lava pit? He was a respected member of his community with a fiancé and a clutch of eggs on the way. Their lives are nothing in the petty games of the lords of the Mushroom Kingdom, and Mario will destroy them with gleeful abandon, a spring in his step and a hearty "wha-ha!" on his lips. This, then, is your hero. Pray that he never develops a lust for power.

Of course, this is all nonsense - the Super Mario games remain a blessed oasis of purity, cheerfulness and cartoon fun in a desert of war sims and cover shooters, and we should all be thankful for their continued existence. I know I am. I do still wonder about the Goomba's motivations, though...

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VGJUNK MUSICAL HALLOWE'EN PLAYLIST PART 2

As inevitably as night follows day and severe mental retardation follows prolonged exposure to Loose Women, so approacheth part two of VGJUNK's frightfully fearsome playlist of Hallowe'en-flavoured videogame music. If you want to refresh you memory as to the contents of part one, then here it is. Ready? Then onwards!

Ghost House, Super Mario World, SNES

Why did I love Super Mario's spectral Boos so much as a child? Was it because I empathised, nay, identified with their crippling shyness? No, it is because they are super-cool, goofy-faced ghosts. If I was a cartoony ghost, I could not ask for better theme music than this. That descending "whoooo" sound effect? That's the stuff right there. Like all Mario music, its secret is its simplicity, a simplicity that crawls into you brain and takes up permanent residence so it can warn you not to turn your back on the roaming spirits of the dead for too long.

The Lair, Splatterhouse 2, MegaDrive

I could have chosen any song from Splatterhouse 2, really. They're all excellent and filled with more Hallowe'enosity than a pumpkin made of bats being carried by Michael Myers. I like that the track has the feel of an end-credits song that might play over a Nightmare on Elm Street sequel from the early nineties, perhaps accompanied by Robert Englund rapping. Now there's a nightmare for ya.

The Mystic Forest, Final Fantasy 6, SNES

Not a Hallowe'en game, but it does feature an honest-to-god Ghost Train. Final Fantasy 6 cements it's place as one of my all-time favourite games not only by including an honest-to-god Ghost Train that, yes, you can suplex, but by having some beautiful music, such as this track that plays on the area just preceding the train of ghosts. Another triumph over the limitations of the SNES's musical limitations. Plus, the arranged, orchestral Grand Finale version is a great counter to anyone who complains about game music just being all bleepy-bloopy:

Playrooms of Asylum, Shadowman, N64

A depressingly overlooked diamond of a game, Shadowman probably the only game I've ever played that can claim to challenge the big two of the Silent Hill series and Resident Evil REmake in terms of sheer creepy atmosphere. Deep in the titular Asylum, located in the voodoo equivalent of Hell, you come across the Playrooms, which are full of blood and chains and unidentifiable pieces of meat and... this music. I think this might edge out Silent Hill 2's "Betrayal" to become the most terrifying piece of sonic disturbance on this playlist. It will haunt you, especially if you listen to it on your own at night. If you do, I cannot be held responsible for any sudden feelings that there is a demonic butcher in your house and he wants to play with you, or that all hope and joy has been drained from the world.

Mars Needs Cheerleaders, Zombies Ate My Neighbours, SNES

To apologise for inflicting the Playrooms music on you, I offer you this: my favourite track from one of my favourite games (and indeed game soundtracks) of all time. It's like Danny Elfman wrote the music for a 50's B-movie using a SNES, and it is glorious. I defy you to not smile while you're listening to this. I want to have babies with that SNES theremin sound effect, beautiful vibrato babies that make the world a better place just by existing. Okay, you're probably not smiling now.

That's it for part two. Part one is here, and perhaps one day there will be (gasp)... PART THREE!

GOOMBAS, GOOMBAS, GOOMBAS!

The Super Mario games, I think it's fair to say, have some of the most iconic videogame enemies ever created, with only Pac-Man's ghosts or Space Invaders', well, invaders matching up to the likes of the Koopa Troopas, Bullet Bills and Boos in the hearts and minds of gamers. Of all those famous critters, one in particular stands head and shoulders (or at least they would if they had heads and shoulders) above all the rest: The humble yet mighty Goomba.

It occured to me the other day that there are almost certainly millions of people out there for whom a Goomba was the very first thing they ever killed in a videogame. Millions. Personally, the first thing I ever destroyed in a videogame was a lime-green wireframe tank in Battlezone for the Atari 2600, but the first unambiguously living creature I digitally dispatched was a poor ol' Goomba in Mario Bros. The best thing about the original NES Goombas was the fact they looked so damn serious, which must be a difficult expression to maintain when you walk in such an adorable, wiggling manner.
Anyway, some Goomba facts: In Japan, they are called Kuribo, which apparently means "Chestnut People," although they are based on shiitake mushrooms and not chestnuts. They were put into the original Mario because the developers thought that Koopa Troopas were a bit too tough an opponent to start the game with. Yes, the Goombas are simply cannon fodder, placed into the Mushroom Kingdom to give Mario something on which to hone his bloodletting skills. What poor little bastards they are. One assumes the name Goomba comes from the Italian-American word Goombah, which I'm sure will be familiar to anyone who's watched The Sopranos, and it fits in nicely with Mario's Italian-ness. Finding out they are called Kuribo finally settled what was a great childhood mystery mystery for me. In Super Mario 3, there is one level which features a Goomba riding in a green wind-up boot that Mario can steal and ride himself. This boot is called the Kuribo's Shoe, and all through my childhood I wondered what the hell a Kuribo was, imagining it to be some kind of never-seen giant monster who has boots large enough for a lardy Italian plumber to ride about in. Now I know it just means "Goomba's Shoe", I have to admit to a certain amount of disappointment.
Another thing that confused me, Goomba-wise, were the Goombas in Super Mario World. Instead of the standard mushroom-shaped Goombas, there were these strange spherical fellows:

All through my childhood, I had no idea these guys were supposed to be Goombas. No idea! I don't know what the hell I thought they were, but when the internet rolled along and I noticed that other people were calling them Goombas, it all fell into place. Apparently, they are a slightly different species called Kuribon, but Goombas they be, and it's nice to know they hadn't been ignored in the SNES days.
According to Nintendo, the Goombas are a seperate species from the Toads, and both races lived in harmony in the Mushroom Kingdom. Awww. Until Bowser came along with his plans to take over the country, and the treacherous Goombas switched sides and joined up with the Koopas (except some Goombas didn't). Now, let me suggest to you an alternative version of events. The Goombas are a slave caste within the Mushroom Kingdom, forced to do all the dirty work while the Toads live in luxury, close to the brutal, autocratic monarchy led by the brainless Princess Peach. Along comes Bowser, with promises of removing the corrupt monarchy and establishing some kind of worker's collective, and the downtrodden Goombas sign up. However, they are sadly unaware that the royalty have on their side some kind of super-warrior, a plumber who sure is good at jumping on things. Bowser is defeated, thousands of Goombas perish and the ones that survive are cast out of society. I personally would like to believe that is the true story of the Mushroom Kingdom. It gives you a whole new perspective on the games, that's for sure.
And finally, I happen to own this little fella:

He's a Goomba that came with a McDonalds' Happy Meal. He's got a little sucker on his chin that you stick to his feet, and after a while the sucker somes loose and the Goomba does a backflip. I looked at the base and he was made in 1989, which means I've owned him for 21 years. He still works, too, and if my house was on fire, you can be sure I'd make a real effort to rescue him.

Anyway, that's enough about Goombas. Long may they continue to waddle around in a fairly useless manner!
BONUS:
Do you want to see a stomach-churningly cute crocheted Goomba, complete with Kuribo's Shoe? Sure you do.

MARIO PAINT MASTERPIECES

Da Vinci. Rembrandt. Van Gogh. All the most widely-recognised master painters in history. What do they all have in common? That's right, they all chose to stick with the same tired media of paint and canvas, instead of utilizing the mighty technological power of Nintendo's Mario Paint. Yes, they may be know as the true masters of their art, but think how much better they could have been has only the SNES been around during the Renaissance. To prove this point, I have selected five masterpieces and re-created them using that most powerful of expressive techniques: Mario Paint. In case you are such a phillistine that you don't recognise these works of art, I have included the (vastly inferior) originals at the bottom of the post. Prepare now to have your minds blown and for artistic wonderment to flow into the fleshy mass within!

(Click for a larger view)
First of all, I know Mario Paint has a limited number of colours, but this doesn't matter. A truly visionary artist will use this to his advantage! Notice how I have improved on the original with some truly vibrant colours, as well as the fact that the subject now resembles Dr. Wily from Megaman that much more. The use of perspective when rendering the chair is what truly elevates this to masterpiece status.


Have you ever seen fruit painted so beautifully as this, so real you want to reach into the picture and take a bite? No, of course you haven't, you uncultured swine. The depiction of the sea surpasses even the works of Turner, and the figure is so perfectly formed that his shrivelled left hand becomes a beacon of hope, not a hideous disfigurement. Salvador Dali once said "I myself am surrealism," but he was obviously wrong. Because I am.


The world's greatest masterpiece. Ah, those haunting eyes, that half-formed smile. All my own work, of course. The original was just some dowdy woman with no eyebrows. The shading of the jawline gives her a real sense of strength, and it certainly doesn't look like a five-o-clock shadow. That overly-fussy background had to go too, and I'm sure you'll agree my new one is far superior.

An artistic statement of a world in anguish, and what could fill a man with more anguish than trying to draw anything with the SNES mouse? The noodle-y hands of the original did not go nearly far enough for my liking, so have replaced them with what is essentially spaghetti. Imagine the anguish you would feel if you had spaghetti for hands. Also, another perfect depiction of the sea.


Ha ha! Screw you, Mario Paint! I win! If only the SNES had a printer, I could knock a few of these out, glue them to canvasses and sell them on the black market. I'd be a millionaire in no time.
Well, I hope you feel suitably cultured now: I'm sure you'll agree that Mario Paint is the only true choice for creating works of such ground-breaking importance. If you feel like recreating a great work of art using the divine medium of the SNES, email it to vgjunk@hotmail.co.uk and win absolutely nothing.