act ten: metaphorical history
Yellow sun filtered through faded, drawn blinds and into a dusty old room, where its rays of light seemed to gently twinkle down upon the ground below and cast off a heavenly illumination to combat the withered feeling of a place left behind by man. A lone rocking chair sits, just as dusty as the room surrounding it, with a quilted blanket resting upon its back. The blanket in particular is caked heavy with dust, as if the mere act of moving it might set off a dust cloud to cover the room over... but, despite this, it nevertheless shows a hint of its former beauty.
Tattered cardboard boxes stacked on high in corners, some torn open by time to reveal their contents to the world's curious eyes. A withered basketball, a Radio Flyer wagon with a single baseball glove left within it to sit and keep it company. Relics of the past, little treasures adored by children of an age surprisingly none too long ago, seem to be scattered about these torn cardboard boxes. A wooden yo-yo left to dangle by the string from the mass of board games stuffed away in another box, old army action figures left fallen, as if taken by the imaginary wars they'd once proudly fought in.
Casual glances through the room could speak volumes of the history it held proudly within it... the stories it could tell, the visions it could bring to curious young imaginations looking to learn of a world in the past not too different from their own. An old television set sits off to another side of the room, its screen covered in that same film of dust that seems to sit upon the room as a whole, rabbit ears left probing the air for signals now blocked from them in this day and age. A jukebox sits silent in the corner, no longer operating, nor able to operate... many of the records left within the old machine now broken or simply worn out from over-useage.
Yet if only the jukebox could speak, it would not need those broken records to tell its listeners of the age it once flourished in, and of the people who relied on it to have a night fulfilled by that night's end. More cardboard boxes join the jukebox at its side... these too tattered and torn, these too spilling out relics of the past for the world to take in. Ultimately, the room could be looked upon and called a masterpiece of American culture and history.
It could be gazed at with fond memories of those who experienced those proud, golden days, just as it could be looked upon in a strange, alien-like wonder by those too young to even recall memories of the past decade. Such primitive toys, primitive means of entertainment... and yet they worked so well in their day and age, and could even still be enjoyed today, if only people might share their love of the new with a better appreciation of the icons of entertainment's past.
Within this room covered in dust, golden light filtering through... there sits, in the center, three items left untouched by time. They are not covered in dust, nor do they share a link with the iconic relics left within this magnificent room of treasures. Indeed, they remain firmly planted in the center of the room, well away from their room-mates that sit scattered against and across the edges of the room. They are representative of the present and future of entertainment, they are what will bring and are still bringing the children of today smiles worldwide, and they have even managed to capture the imagination of those from the past, who might appreciate such a room as the one they find themselves housed within.
They are video game consoles, not unlike the faded NES that sits among its peers of consoles past in one of many cardboard boxes in yet another dusted corner of the quiet room.
The first of three stands, a Nintendo Wii, within the glimmering sunlight filtering through the drawn blinds covering the windows of the room. It stands closest to the walls, closest to the relics of the past... respectful of their capabilities, and respectful of what they once meant to the generation that came before its own.
The second of three stands, a Sony Playstation 3, cast in a shadow by its peer standing beside it despite its own potential for success. It remains silent yet persistent, as if some unseen force drives it forward. It has the potential to be at the top of its industry, if only it worked a little harder at getting its name out into it. Still, despite this potential... it wastes its chances away on a constant basis.
Finally, the third of three stands, a Microsoft XBox 360, daring to challenge the room surrounding it. It is smug in its success, uncaring of its partner, the Playstation 3, which stands beside him hoping to cement its legacy within this very room one day. Instead, the 360 stands, as if taunting the room surrounding it, as if demanding that it give it the attention it deserves.
The room is mostly silent, indeed left untouched by the hands of anyone else but time... and yet these three consoles stand among this room of history with a hope that they might one day be allowed to join the ranks of those within it, with a hope that they might too one day be fondly looked back upon and called defining elements to the generation that birthed them. Around them sits the judgmental presence of the past, legends of entertainment now sitting in this dusted-over room, left humbled by their experiences and yet still glorified by the light that now shines upon the next chosen prodigy of the industry they once helped build into the future.
The noise begins as a trickle of toy soldiers, dropping from one of the tilting cardboard boxes atop the stacks within a corner of the room. This trickle soon turns into a cacophony of sound, as the crash of plastic to hardwood floor fills the air with the spiralling dust kicked up by the collapse. The sounds crescendo as the boxes soon begin to topple over in ordered sequence, their heavy weight soon crashing upon the ground and, as the pile inched closer, eventually collapsing entirely upon two of the three.
These two, caught unaware and without time to reach for safety, are crushed beneath the weight of the past.
All the while, the Nintendo Wii remains standing, watching on as the ceremonies commence, watching on as that same faded NES not unlike itself begins to tumble down the pile of ancient relics that had tumbled down upon its former peers. The NES comes to a rest beside the Nintendo Wii, and soon there is silence in the room once more... soon, there is understanding.
A brotherhood is formed, and a legacy is soon to be created... the Nintendo Wii, respectful of its past, has entered among the ranks of those who helped define the past. The NES, holding strong in its own legend, still finishing its story even today... welcoming, and accepting, this newcomer's presence. After-all, in the end... they're not very different at all, are they? For their times, they are indeed revolutionary names... and both have the potential to hold strong in the memories of our civilization's future.
One almost certain to enter the history books, and another well on its way.