Super Mario: A Philosophical Debate

To the layman, Mario is but a simple plumber—unwittingly thrust into a strange world of sentient mushrooms and militant turtles, then suddenly expected to save a kingdom he’s never known because he was accidentally sucked down a pipe.

And we never do find out whether the job he was originally contracted for paid restitution after subjecting him to an insanely unsafe workplace environment—let alone how he explained the seemingly impossible insurance claim upon returning to the earthly plane of existence.

“It says here that you were installing a toilet, and then you suddenly ended up in a mushroom kingdom, where you swam through lava and murdered a lizard king?”

Some plumbers injure themselves on rusty pipes. This one was literally sucked into a netherworld of seemingly murderous fungi—creatures we’re told, through obvious propaganda, must be killed on sight because they serve a despotic dinosaur and his idiotic offspring.

From their point of view, however, Mario is likely perceived as a serial killer.

And that’s not even taking into consideration the massive infrastructure repairs necessitated by everything he has personally obliterated. Imagine the tax rate in the Mushroom Kingdom. This fat asshole hasn’t encountered a single brick he didn’t immediately want to punch into shards.

So, let’s get down to brass tacks.

Super Mario is a mass murderer.

He kills with impunity and zero accountability because he can get away with virtually anything. Whenever the consequences catch up with him, he simply starts his life over. This is profound—but deeply disturbing in its implications. He possesses a figurative blank cheque of immorality, and he cashes it frequently.

He is also prone to bouts of excessive pyromania and wanton, malicious drug use. He regularly consumes personality-distorting mushrooms that he believes increase his physical mass, as well as a star-shaped narcotic that transforms him into a raging, near-invincible maniac—the likes of which are usually seen only in the throes of PCP.

The guy even manifests a black rubber, hammer-throwing suit, for fuck’s sake. What kind of complete pervert sadist would create this S&M nightmare?

And again, that’s not even taking into consideration his furry-fetish raccoon costume, which he wears while molesting various unsuspecting mushrooms across a multitude of terrains in this deeply disturbing world.

Let’s face it: the man has spent most of his life in a state of complete drug-induced paranoia. It explains the fantastical things he believes he sees—and only furthers his inhuman lack of empathy. He exists in a perpetual bubble of unconscionable hallucination.

The truth is, not since Christopher Columbus has there been such a cruel and soulless killer hiding beneath the guise of a hero: a man who invades and usurps the longtime homes of others, claims their land for himself, deals nothing but death and disease, and destroys entire cultures through genocide.

In closing: fuck Mario.

One man’s hero is another man’s mass murderer.

His quest isn’t even noble. He begins his killing spree in a perverted attempt to finally bed a rich woman after being cock-blocked seven consecutive times by her friend-zoned minion, who dresses like a genie with underwear on his head.

You know—that same old story.

And after all the death, destruction, and absolute mayhem, this manic, mustachioed menace even has the audacity to invite many of his surviving victims to occasionally join him in a go-kart race—as though none of it ever happened.

Absolute madness.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

I’m Sean.