Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Why PaRappa the Rapper is the Greatest Dating Guide Ever

Forget consulting one of those dime-a-dozen pick-up-artists on the Web - if you really want to slay the ladies, take your cues from this 20-year-old PlayStation game instead.


By: Jimbo X

Long before Rock Band, Guitar Hero, Donkey Konga and even Dance Dance Revolution (the mass shooter inspiring dreck it isthe PS1 cult classic PaRappa The Rapper introduced American gamers to what would eventually become known as the "rhythm-action" genre - i.e., games that fundamentally are nothing more than slightly churched-up versions of Simon Says, albeit, with really bitching soundtracks. 

In hindsight, PaRappa is a remarkably primitive game. You can beat the entire thing in less than 40 minutes and unless you have an arm missing or something, it's next to impossible to not get a "perfect" rating on every stage. The beauty of PaRappa, though, is that the game itself is really just an excuse to watch the downright Dadaist story unfurl, which sorta' feels like an episode of Doug directed by John Waters on an acid trip.

Having played through the game recently, a rather strange thought hit me. Yes, even factoring in the surreality of playing as a wigger puppy who has to rap battle his way out of shitting his pants in public, the game itself seemed to represent an almost perfect guide for picking up women. If you can overlook the Rastafarian lizards selling toasters at the flea market and the kung-fuing onions, you'll quickly realize that PaRappa is actually a super-secret guide to getting laid. Forger Ross Jeffries and all that neuro-linguistic programming bullshit, this game HAS to be the best resource ever designed with the end goal of getting socially-awkward dorks and nerdlings some poontang.

Don't believe me? Well, howzabout we fire up our old PlayStation units and take a look at what PaRappa the pimp has to say, you naysayer, you?

Tip One:
A girl wants to know she'll be safe, so learn how to kick everybody's ass.

It's a scientifically proven fact: all women love senseless, macho violence at random intervals.

PaRappa the Rapper begins with the eponymous pup at the cineplex, watching some B-movie called Jet Baby with his three best pals - among them, an anthropomorphic sunflower named Sunny Funny, whom PaRappa is hopelessly in love with. Now, from the get-go, we learn that PaRappa is poor as fuck (which is why he can only order a free glass of water when he's at the burger shop, where everybody just pretends the woman at the counter isn't one of the most horrific black caricatures in any medium), so he certainly can't razzle dazzle his object of desire with financial security. So, after watching super stud dog Joe Chin rescue everybody from getting beat to death by a gaggle of stereotypical hick rapists (primarily, through a maddening torrent of logorrhea), PaRappa decides to hit up the Fruites Dojo and learn how to karate the fuck out of everything from Chop Chop Master Onion (an aside, but goddamn, does this game hilariously double down on the offensive cultural stereotypes.)

Now, this is a pivotal lesson to be learned in the real world of human dating for several reasons. First, by learning the martial arts - and if you call yourself a man, by the time you are 30 you ought to know about half a dozen of 'em - you learn not just how to choke people unconscious and yank their bones out of the socket, you learn a little thing called confidence. Through rhythm, technique and leverage, you're able to control your temperament when under duress, so when shit gets real, you won't panic and you can just walk on over to what's giving you trouble and coolly deal with it. By nature, women ain't too good responding to crises - by they major or minor - so they definitely flock to men who represent protective, stable and yes, dare I say it, patriarchal attributes (fuck, George Michael didn't sing "I want to be your mother figure," did he?) If you're not comfortable with your own abilities - by they the ability to hold down a steady job or beat the fuck out of an entire bar, Shenmue QTE-style - your love object will certainly pick up on it, and really, what girl in this day and age wants to waste her time on a guy who's always kvetching about his shortcomings? 

Tip Two:
A girl wants an independent guy who can take her places she's never been before, so don't be some homestuck putz who never goes anywhere.

Seriously, you would be surprised just how often women forget to close the door while driving. VERY surprised.

While you and the gang are hanging out at Flat Donut, along comes Joe Chin in his dick-shaped stretch limousine. He says he's taking all ya'll to the beach, but the bitches have to sit up front while you and your autistic squirrel buddy have to pretty much ride on the rear bumper. Thanks to a carbon monoxide spawned hallucination, PaRappa soon realizes that if he had his own mode of transportation, HE could drive Sunny Funny wherever she wants, and that increases his likelihood of getting his two-dimensional penis sucked at least 80-90 percent. Naturally, the leads to PaRappa going to a driving school, where he seeks instruction from some sort of moose woman who sounds like a sassy, morbidly obese African-American church singer who is too stupid to close her own door while critiquing her pupil's steering wheel handling technique.

This one has a lot of nuance to it as far as general dating applications, so listen up. First, women like guys not because they have cars, but because they have something that can easily move them to and fro. That means instead of being stuck inside all day or having to wait on, ugh, public transportation, you can crank up your own ride and go wherever the hell you want. That's the personification of consumer freedom, and the womenfolk love, Love, LOVE even the rudimentary idea of being able to go anywhere at anytime they please. Also, women are creatures of extreme habit, so anytime they are exposed to anything even remotely unique or foreign, it generally makes their panties wet. So, if you don't have a car, you're stuck hanging around at your place all day or her place all day being boring together, and before long, she'll start hating you because you've become part of the unbearable stasis of her everyday life. Thus, the absolutely necessity of some means to travel far, far away at any point in time - i.e., the ability to whisk her away from something that isn't part of the mundane, hyper-predictable hellhole that is her very existence. And as PaRappa demonstrates: if you can convince a girl you are her escape from the banal, odds are, she'll prolly fuck you at some point. 

Tip Three:
A girl wants a guy that can make his own way in the world, so if you're not able to fiscally support yourself, don't even think about getting laid. Ever.

Until I played PaRappa, I had no idea that you could make all 60 payments on a car from just one morning of flea market sales.

Just 10 minutes after getting his driver's license, PaRappa borrows his daddy's car and takes his pals for a ride through and over the mountains. Unfortunately, he starts daydreaming about drinking apple cider and sucking on Sunny Funny's supple stem, and OOPS! He winds up crashing his pa's car, and oh fuck, that nigga still had 59 payments left. Alas, ever the stand-up kinda' guy he is, PaRappa decides to pay off the balance by getting a job at a flea market, where he helps a Jamaican lizard sell all sorts of (presumably stolen) merchandise, like mounted skunks and bottle caps. And that's not me being a smartass, that's pretty much canon - how else do you explain his stanza "I made a lot of bucks and now I'm on the run?")

You see, that old trope about women only wanting guys with money is a myth. Yeah, they'd prefer to date a millionaire over a guy who's homeless, but overall, a guy's overall wealth isn't as high up on a woman's hierarchy of needs as you'd think. What's MORE important is that you have steady employment, consistent pay and some sort of plan/process in mind to climb up the S.E.S. ladder. The same way females want a guy who can keep 'em safe from physical dangers, they also want somebody who can keep 'em safe from financial dangers, like going into debt or having their car repossessed or having to take out massive loans just to buy groceries each week. As long as you can prove that you and you alone are economically propping yourself up, occupationally you're a safe bet and as the years roll behind you you'll definitely be making more money instead of less money, a woman will prolly give you the time of day. Fail to nail any of those three prerequisites, though, and it looks like you'll have to make do with Old Lady Thumb and her four daughters for the foreseeable future.

Tip Four:
A girl wants a guy who is a natural problem solver, so being resourceful and ingenuous is your shortcut to poontang-town. 

...but women do still love huge cocks, though.

After losing a game of Janken (what we here in the States call "rock, scissors, paper") PaRappa has to buy a cake for Sunny's birthday. This is all nice and dandy, up until that show-off sonofabitch Joe Chin ambles into the equation with a sky-high 42-layer cake representing how badly he wants to pound Sunny's ovaries. Of course, this eventually results in PaRappa falling face first on his own baked goods, but wait a sec: instead of going back to town and buying a back-up, he says "fuck that, I'll just watch Cheap Cheap the Chicken's cooking show and make my own homemade seafood cake and that'll show all those motherfuckers what's up."

I think you'd be surprised just how far pragmatism can take you in the quest to get inside that funk, that sweet, that nasty. Sure, being able to play rock and roll guitar and catch a couple of touchdown passes might get your ding-dong through the front door, but what happens when she realizes you can't do all the basic shit in life, like fix an overheated car engine or unclog a toilet or even put in a new fucking window frame? Trust me, NOTHING rankles a woman more than when her man can't do super standard shit she thinks everybody ought to be able to do, and the moment she realizes you are incapable of this mundane feat, pretty much your entire aura of intrigue and invulnerability fades away forever.

Tip Five:
A girl wants a guy with a gruff exterior, so you better be willing to throw down with anyone, anywhere, anytime and under any circumstances.

...women get SO moist whenever a guy has to hold his shit in. Or, at least, that's how they do it in Japan.

First the good news: Sunny Funny really, really liked your perch, shrimp and clam cake. The bad news? You ate too much of it and now you have to take the largest shit you've ever had to shat in your whole life. Strangely enough, Sunny thinks it's sexy when you hold in your feelings (in this case, the feeling of a chocolate log trying to escape from your sphincter on the car ride home), and thankfully, the need to refuel your ride also gives you a fairly convenient excuse to hit up the bathroom. Just one catch - all your previous rap mentors are waiting in line, too, and you have to beat them in a hip-hop-off to go first.

Deep down, all women hate their fathers, so what they're looking for in a male mate is some sort of paternal stand-in that represents all of the fatherly characteristics they wanted in their own pa. That's why in every Disney Princess movie, the father is alive and the mother is always dead and the prince/hero figure always serves as some sort of complementary foil to the princess' daddy. And women don't want some goofy ass dad that's always walking around in flip-flops with socks in them, they want a stern, solemn, staid, stoic and respectable male protector. It's not so much that you can beat the shit out of people for your girl's honor as it is the fact she knows you would try it if it came down to it. That sense of tough, paternalistic emotionlessness is a way for her to feel that reassurance, that if shit got real, you would make lots of things hurt, bleed and possibly die for her. So basically: just act like you have to take a big shit all the time and you'll prolly get laid much sooner than later. 

Tip Six:
A girl wants a guy with a gravitas, so you better be able to captivate an audience somehow.

Never discount the power of positive thinking. And if that doesn't work, there's always Roofies.

After getting an invite to an underground rave, PaRappa decides to pick up Sunny Funny for what could rightly be considered their first real date. Also, let's try to ignore the fact that Sunny lives in a giant lemon and her dad appears to be an S.S. officer with a potted plant for a head, just 'cause. So, you and your gal pal get to the party, and what's the first thing you notice (aside from the caribou wearing a U.S. Navy sweater, for some reason?) That's right, the mass sea of indiscernible people. No girl in her right mind wants a guy who is content with just being another face in the crowd, so PaRappa decides to grab the mic and go to fuckin' town on stage, absolutely bringing the house down with a celebratory anthem I'm so going to play at full volume when the Raiders win the Super Bowl someday.

Needless to say, women don't want some guy who fades into the background. They want a guy who stands out, the kind of guy whose presence is unmistakable every time he walks into a room. You've got to have a certain air about you - a sense of authority, a mystique, an unquestionable charisma - that is conveyed without uttering a single word. It's the way you walk, it's the way you make your way across a sea of people, and it's the way you make your presence felt amid waves and waves of humanity. She can't put her finger on it, but there's just something different about you - a sense of confidence, a sense of respectability. And nothing - I mean NOTHING - gets a woman hotter than a guy who can take center stage in a room full of people and just take control of it. You know why women always want to fuck singers and politicians and college professors? Because THEY are the ones who control the crowd, and the womenfolk want them to control their bodies the same way they work over the audience. I'm not entirely sure what happened after PaRappa got done tearing the house down, but this much, I am certain: Sunny Funny prolly sucked his dick for a long time afterwards.

...of you not getting any pussy, if you paid close enough attention.

Well, if you planned on enrolling in one of Mystery's super-secret seduction school seminars, don't even fuckin' bother because PaRappa The Rapper just told you everything you need to know about picking you up some hos. Granted, there are prolly more straightforward, Cosmo-friendly ways of getting the same points across, but when it really comes down to it, there's no way to argue against the effectiveness and sheer practicality of what PaRappa tells you. Now, keep in mind, these tips aren't for maintaining a significant other but simply to get you in the barn door to knock boots - if you want tips on nurturing a long, successful human relationship, keep a lookin'. Still, I've yet to encounter a single pick-up artist technique or tome whose inert knowledge surpasses the mad "game" of PaRappa - which gets me to thinking: what kind of incredible truths about existence have I been shunned to because I never rented 'Unjammer Lammy' when I had the chance?

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