Ah, the Nintendo DS — the handheld console that looked like a tiny laptop for cartoon spies and made every kid in 2004 feel like a tech mogul. “Dual Screen” was the big selling point, as if one screen wasn’t enough chaos for your eyeballs. And let’s not forget the stylus, a tiny plastic wand you lost within 48 hours, destined to be replaced with chewed-up pencils, greasy thumbs, or pure, unfiltered rage. It was the first time a video game console encouraged us to poke Pikachu in the face and blow into a microphone like we were trying to resuscitate Mario.
But oh, the library — from “Brain Age” tricking us into doing Sudoku for fun, to “Nintendogs,” which let you adopt a digital puppy and then ignore it until it ran away in shame (relatable). You had classics, weird experiments, and that weird guy on the bus asking to trade Pokémon through local wireless. The DS didn’t just sell games — it sold an experience: one part childhood joy, one part touchscreen confusion, and one part “wait, this game wants me to yell ‘OBJECTION!’ out loud in public?” It was clamshell chaos at its finest.
