FROM THE EDITOR
While being interviewed for the Bottom of the Smash Mountain podcast, I had an epiphany: I have been working on projects like MAJOR for the entirety of my life.
I learned that it has always been my life’s mission to collect people’s stories and art. Whether it is the travel notes I take, the random strangers I talk to, or the tattoos on my arms, I collect something from others and then I carry that piece of them with me. MAJOR was, and is, the latest manifestation of this life-long personality quirk.
But MAJOR was always supposed to be bigger than just me. When Zane and I started the project, we originally wanted to provide a safe, fun, and community-focused space for creatives to publish their work. And over the last five years, we collected and printed more than 300 pages of content. Not to mention, we collected more than a thousand dollars for various charities. With great pride I can say that MAJOR succeeded in going well beyond its original goals. So why am I ending my run with this zine if it’s so “successful”?
The zine challenged me in ways I could have never predicted. To work on and complete each issue of MAJOR I had to confront my insecurities and grow as a person. I needed to be able to ask for help, look foolish, wrangle contributors, hold myself accountable to their needs, build a supportive rapport with them, forgive logistical mistakes, and maintain community interest in the project through publicity and posting. All this just so I can put together a cool zine!
But that’s the point right? As humans, when it comes to things we care about, we’re never simply satisfied with the bare minimum. It is common to want to prove ourselves and say “I am here!” to the world. We want to rank higher, nail that tech, travel further, and accomplish so much more. It is my firm belief that our only real purpose in life is to learn how to hit those highs; learn how to pick ourselves up from those eventual lows; or learn how to love ourselves for being just the way we are. And this zine helped me learn all of it.
MAJOR is hard, sure, but it truly is a lot of fun. Fun because of our supporters and contributers making it this unique, messy, beautiful thing. I could not have done this alone, and I’m forever grateful that we did this together.
I’m thankful for all the lessons this zine needed to teach me and I can’t to see what else the world can teach me about myself and others.
EDITOR Oats CONTRIBUTORS
717 Melee, Awri_bb, blekhy, blummbo, Brahndoe, Brandon, Brogue, Bryce Stout, Danny Marzari, deal_4_real, Doodle Dudestar, Dr. Piggy, Emmy1984, Eric “Jorge” Clarke, Goob, guppies, Jonah “Childish” Fritz, Justin Wharton, Karamel, Kasha, Kevyn “Yusei” White, Luke “MNR” Kerzich, natalie / shrug, Nathan Sovik, Noah Rudolph, Porky, Puunk_, Ramona Synesthesia, RedShirt, Steph, Stude, Vaporwavedash, and Zane Bhansali @MAJORzine
MAJOR is a zine by Smash fans, for Smash fans. It is not affiliated with Nintendo, HAL Laboratory, Sora Ltd, Bandai Namco, or any corporation associated with the development or publishing of the Super Smash Bros. series of video games. All content herein has been graciously volunteered for inclusion by contributors and/ or the editor. No content may be reused in whole or in part without permission from the creator of the content.
VOLUME 1, ISSUE 15 JANUARY 2023
@majorsmashzine
- Oats
FRONT COVER BY Midnight Blue BACK COVER BY Goob
Zane Bhansali
MAJOR Co-Founder and Creative Producer @ Beyond the Summit
For folks that may not know who you are, could you introduce yourself? Maybe tell us how you got into Smash?
Hey there. I’m Zane “Epengu” Bhansali - but please, just call me Zane. I taught myself to wavedash back in 2008 - well, I taught myself while watching Wak017’s “Advanced How To Play” videos, as pretty much everyone did back then. I started watching competitive Melee in 2009, when I first started spending my high school lunch breaks playing Melee with some other likeminded friends, and went to my first tournament outside of the chemistry room in 2013. I was one of the founding editors of MAJOR back in 2017, when Marco first came to me with the idea.
You are one of MAJOR’s founders. What stood out about the original idea? How did you see yourself getting involved with the project?
Back in 2017, when we started this, the Melee community in particular was just coming around to a radical concept: we might not be on the brink of extinction. For a long time, playing Melee felt like you were sneaking as many dances on the Titanic as possible before it went down, hollering for the band to play just one more before we all got iced together. But then, all of a sudden, we went from a ticking clock to the yawning abyss of time without end. That makes the rush to see who will be number 1 feel much less important; but it helped me awaken to the fact that we had so many stories other than competition that could easily be lost. Competitive Melee is a strange sort of meritocracy - MAJOR, to me, was an opportunity to excavate the stories and art that could so easily be lost to time and then preserve them. In terms of my involvement - I’d had experience editing magazines before, so I thought could help out with the line-by-line edits to copy and in the process, maybe connect with and encourage writers in the community, especially the fledgling ones just starting out.
The best part of any major, as experienced tourney-goers know, is the last stretches on Saturdayduring top 64, when you can wander the convention hall and see dozens of people sweating it out to make it further wherever you turn. You run into friends, share a set together, then say hi and drift over to the next match - or a booth, or a friendlies setup, or an overpriced food vendor. It’s like being at a carnival and deciding which attraction you should spend your tickets on next. I hope MAJOR imparts some of that indelible feeling, even if you’ve never been to a major before.
What was it like working on MAJOR?
Back then, it was just three of us - me, you (Marco), and Corey, our mind-bogglingly talented graphic designer/layout editor. A lot of it was the classic “figuring out what we were doing” phase, but the thing that stands out most from that time is how genuinely surprised we were by the submissions. You go into this with a certain idea of what you’re going to receive, but so much of the material was genuinely unexpected - whether it was the form, the genre, or just the skill on display. The first issues turned out so much more eclectic than we thought they would. At the time, I remember feeling a little anxious about it being scattered, but looking back now - that’s exactly the kind of fuck-it DIY attitude a zine should be founded on. Or not! “Should” is kind of antithetical to the point, anyways. My point: I’m so glad it was so messy.
Interview with
“Love is a Battlefield” by Helen D’Avanza from MAJOR Issue #3
Do you have a favorite issue? A favorite submission?
Here’s where I tip my hat to Marco for spearheading the zine in its revival - I was only really on board for 5 issues, so I’m biased to that initial set. I think Issue 3 (Shine 2018) was the one where it felt everything really coalesced (even as we stayed the kaleidoscope I was just talking about). It’s also where I got to write my favorite piece for the zine (and a good picture of the co-founders’ working relationship): an account of how I wandered around suburban Ontario for hours, thinking my co-founder had gone MIA from the AirBnB, only to discover that I... just didn’t try hard enough to open the door. Sorry Marco! [Editor’s Note: I was very drunk.]
Favorite submission: “Love Is A Battlefield” from Mortuary. Melee as conduit for the blossoming of a polycule. Can’t find that anywhere else.
At the time you recording analog with Rishi. What was it like to contribute to so many Smash projects at the same time? What did you love about Analog? What do you miss?
If there’s something my friends know about me, it’s that I have a problem saying no to things. Sometimes that gets me in trouble - sometimes it lands me in a great spot, like with MAJOR and analog. (Just noticed the opposite capitalization thing - how fun)!
“analog” - a video podcast by Rishi & Zane youtube.com/@analogcast
I guess I just contributed to so many projects because I loved doing it. Over the years I’ve become a pretty devoted adherent to the idea that participating in this community is about the present, not any definite goal. That endless abyss of time I mentioned? That’s a blessing, obviously, no matter how dark I like to make it sound. With both MAJOR and analog, the goal was to make - just make, with no ulterior motive - and enjoy the act of making. We never wanted to blow up, I never used the skills I had literally running YouTube channels as a career to optimize us, we just liked talking. We stopped because we weren’t enjoying how much work it was on top of our lives - but I still talk to Rishi all the time, and I still talk about Smash all the time, so it’s not as if I’ve lost that much. What I loved, and miss, most was talking to people who listened - via the comments, or our Discord, or just dumb interactions on Twitter. I’m quite proud of the small community we cultivated, and it still brings me a lot of joy whenever you tweet at us asking to bring the podcast back.
You also wrote scripts for a tiny, little competitive Pokemon channel, right? What was that channel? How did you get involved in that? Wasn’t there a Smash-connection somewhere in there?
Heh. If it were just my channel, I wouldn’t correct you - but since it belongs to my friends, I have to say that False Swipe Gaming is one of the biggest competitive Pokemon channels on YouTube and I’m proud to play a small part in that. I used to write all the scripts for FSG - these days I just do the VGC research, since: 1. we have the singles GOAT BKC on-board, who knows more than I ever will, and 2. I’ve gotten pretty tight with people from that scene. But yeah - I’d never be a part of False Swipe if not for Smash, since it’s run by Kellen.
The story goes like this: Kellen tweets about how much he hates scriptwriting and wishes he could just edit; I jokingly reply that
False Swipe Gaming youtube.com/@FalseSwipeGaming
I wish I could only write scripts; the rest is history. I’m guessing that most of the jobs I’ve gotten since are thanks to that little Twitter interaction, and until recently, Kellen was the best boss I ever had (sorry Kellen - if we ever run a Pokemon Summit together, you might leap back up). Everyone in the scene has these stories - it’s comedic how many people owe their livelihoods to someone they played friendlies with or met on Discord. Hell, I’m engaged because of Smash - to someone who doesn’t even play the game! It’s dumb. I love it.
A brief aside about Kellen - this man is one of the unsung heroes of Smash, and also just gaming explainer content creation in general. Kellen did all the editing and a lot of the concepting for SSBMTutorials back in the day, and I think his devotion to a standard of quality pushed the scene forward more tangibly than the tutorial format itself.
Something about you that many people may not know is that you’re actually a fantastic painter & photographer. What are some of your favorite creative outlets? Where does film fall into this?
Thanks, I appreciate that. I do happen to be in graduate school right now pursuing an MFA in screenwriting, more specifically TV writing - but it’s funny you say “outlets,” because I’m one of those people who just took what they loved and made it their job. That doesn’t work for everyone, but it’s pretty ideal for me. I spend a lot of my days writing scripts, and I’ve shot a few short films as well - but those aren’t outlets, they’re creative work. The closest thing I have to an outlet is my film camera, which you’ll probably see me toting about at a tournament. The photos I take with that inform my filmmaking work, but they’re really just for me... and my friends... and my insatiable need to record everything around me for the fear it’ll be lost to time. You get where the urge to make a zine comes from now, right? Something transient and tangible at once, just like a photo. That’s the shit that gets me going.
Well, in addition to full-time grad school, I also work full-time at Beyond the Summit, since I’m a psychopath with no impulse control when it comes to saying yes. BTS is the best job I’ve ever had - I just finally wrapped the three month long ordeal of putting on a Summit for a new game, in this case TFT. It was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done in my life. It’s also probably the thing I’m most proud of... ever? Yeah. It rekindled a love for working in this industry I haven’t had in a long time. Mikey handles most of the Smash stuff at BTS, but we still work together all the time - and I’ve got a decent amount of other stuff coming up.
Other than that... I’m writing scripts. I’m editing a film I shot last summer. Drawing, very infrequently. I want to write for TV, ideally. I want to go to more majors and not work myself to death there. I’ll tell you my secret, most ardent goal, though: I want to host a tournament on an island - with a twist. I’m inspired by the great Ultimate tournament “Bad Things Happening to Good People,” one of the Chicago Melee Arcadians run by Unsure, and the first season of Yu-Gi-Oh. Basically: everyone gets a starting number of chips, or coins, or whatever. You can play people and bet these tokens, and
Where are you at now? Are you contributing to any creative projects? What are your goals for the immediate future?
you need a certain amount to qualify for day 3. But the catch is: you can challenge them to anything. Mini-golf. Rock paper scissors. Pokemon Showdown (I’m coming for you, Hugo). Whatever. Technically this doesn’t need to be on an island, but it’s very important to me to stay true to YuGi-Oh season one. We’d call it Smasher’s Kingdom and I’m talking to the Catalina casino to see if they’re available. That’s my main goal.
What are your thoughts on MAJOR as it comes to a close? Was there anything you wanted to try doing but never had the chance?
Man, when I look back at everything I’ve been a part of, this is one of the things I’m most proud of - and I only did about 25% of the work you did! Melee is the best competitive game ever made, but there’s so much behind the top player storylines and the weekly Twitter discourse that deserves to be seen. I’m so proud of the fact that we made a place for people to put their guts onto the page, whether it was ugly or awkward or funny or most often, just beautiful. And I’m kind of happy it stayed a little secret, too. Let me say: thank you, Marco, for giving me the chance to do this. It meant a lot.
What I wish I had done? Simple: flipbook on the corner of the pages that shows Ice Climbers wobbling someone then killing them. One for the back catalog.
Is there anything else you want to share about yourself or shoutout to any friends or loved ones?
Nah. It’s not about me. You already learned I have trouble saying no - the other thing you probably know by now is that I tend to write long. I’m working on it!
Thanks to Marco, without whom none of this would be possible. Your passion is the golden ichor which kept this thing running. I love your dedication to Smash, trash, and everything in between, and I love you.
If you care about making it good (most people do), that’ll shine through. So put that out of mind, and instead here are two rules:
1. It doesn’t matter if you’re good; it matters that you played it
2. It doesn’t matter if it’s good; it matters that you made it
...and then, eventually, maybe it gets good.
Long live mediocre content! Long live mediocre Smash players! I love you all more than I ever will the famous artists and the top players.
“I’m so proud of the fact that we made a place for people to put their guts onto the page, whether it was ugly or awkward or funny or most often, just beautiful.”
“SMASH
FIEND” by DR. Piggy ( @drpiggyphd)
“PIKADELO” by guppies ( @guppiesz)
Moving to the United Arab Emirates from Canada in 2013, I had to start from scratch. New school, new friends- everything. Life was really lonely, but I eventually found my footing after being introduced to Team Fortress 2. The Middle Eastern TF2 community really brought out the competitive energy in me that I never knew I had. Over the years I grew close with my TF@ buddies, sharing our interest in Smash and the hype for an upcoming release. Fast forward to Sm4sh’s debut, I already have hundreds of hours on it on my 3Ds. Friends of friends are talking about “the Smash kid” at school, my TF2 friends telling me about a competitive scene near me. Then one day, suddenly, I’m approached by a senior: “There’s a Sm4sh tournament next week, you interested?” My eyes lit up and I let out a joyous squeak. Of course I was interested! I never knew what being to a tournament in person was like, but over the next few days the experience was all I could think about.
Fast forward to July 31st, 2015- the first time I ever entered a tournament. The environment was such a breath of fresh air. I’ve never seen so many people interested in the same thing that I was interested in. I can still remember the energy created in that venue today. The way my heart was beating and the way my cheeks couldn’t help themselves from grinning, I’ll never forget the feeling. All it does is make me wanna compete again and again.
Cut to 2017, and I had to move back to Canada once again. The feeling was different than when I first moved to the UAE though. It didn’t feel like I was leaving a group of friends anymore- I was departing from family. As sad as it was, I said my goodbyes and I was off. First stop: Ohio. You bet the first damned thing I did was find the closest local near me. In an abandoned mall, a singular active arcade with dozens of people, again, with the same passion as I. It was incredible to me the feats people would take to host anywhere and anyhow. And I felt a new feeling that day: I want to create this same joy that I had felt when I first started entering events.
I sought out that itch
to start hosting events of my own, and it all began in high-school. I created my own weekly Smash club, reviving what was once a dead scene in my school that became one of the most active clubs the year that it was made. College comes along, Ultimate is now the new biggest thing, and once again unknowingly reviving yet another dead club- this time for an entire fighting game community. Covid hits, and after a large hiatus I get a hold of a bar near me with a game night. A bit of convincing, and a few experimental meetups, I start my first real tournament- money on the line and everything. Then, after a few mishaps and complications come the special day: November 12th, 2022, Charged Shots.
Through all my time this year, hosting my first real weekly back in April, all the way up to this big monthly I had planned in November. No matter the size of the event, the smiles and appreciation of the attendees brings me unparalleled joy. It’s almost indescribable, the glee that sings in the venue. I wouldn’t be here without all of them, so it feels only fair to bring them all together for events and gatherings to hangout and be together, as a family. The day of Charged Shots, after all the stress and meticulous organizing, grand finals finally comes to a close. I hand the champion and the runner-up (NotBrayden and Elijmin) their medals, I roll the credits with every single attendee on-screen and thank everyone for coming. As I press the “end stream” button, tears run down my face endlessly. Everyone in the venue began clapping, and even for just a moment I was on top of the world.
I truly want to thank the Smash community and my Canadian friends; for being there for me in my worst moments, for creating the happiest ones with me. For allowing themselves to come together at my events to all have a good time, and grow forevermore- as a family.
~With love, Karamel
photo bY BRANDON ( @TridentSkrt )
by Justin Wharton ( @justwharton)
It has happened again.
Nintendo harnessed what little corporate attention it has reserved for the Smash community to ensure we in the competitive scene operate well below our full potential and remain under their boot. I am referring to the recent cancellation of the SWT (Smash World Tour) at the behest of Nintendo, a cancellation which was reportedly spurred by Panda Global as part of a failed effort to monopolize the competitive Smash ecosystem. The SWT was on track to be one of the most impressive competitive Super Smash Bros. circuits, with its 2022 finals offering $250,000 in prizes for the largest Smash prize pool by far. It truly lived up to its name of a “World” tour, with qualifying events held on five continents. Losing the SWT is a major blow to the community, but it is not the first time our community has been put on the defensive by Nintendo.
As shocking as this betrayal at the hands of Panda may be, and as disappointing as their actions clearly were, the primary existential risk to the Smash scene still stems from Nintendo, with the SWT shutdown being only the most recent instance of their pattern of hostile behavior. After all, if not for Nintendo stringing along VGBootCamp before unceremoniously pulling the plug on their operation (right before Thanksgiving, no less!) and their history of antagonistic actions, Panda’s coercion would have held little sway over the myriad tournament organizers they strong-armed into joining their own circuit.
Despite the best efforts of those at Nintendo, the Smash scene has steadily grown since the release of the original Super Smash Bros. in 1999. With this in mind, I imagine many of our readers will be newer to the community and may not have the historical context within which this recent behavior from Nintendo lies. Let me take you on a short journey, detailing some of the lowlights stemming from our ever-so-cooperative progenitor’s obstinate actions.
Super Smash Bros. Melee, the game with which I am most familiar and the largest target of Nintendo’s wrath, was released in 2001. A competitive scene quickly sprouted due to the fluid and expressive nature of the game. In the early 2000s, the concept of esports began to materialize into something resembling the competitions we see today. An early contributor to this competitive scene was MLG (Major League Gaming) which was founded in 2002 and began offering Smash tournaments in 2004. Giving Smash tournaments a clearer structure and a higher profile with the general public fit nicely within MLG’s mission of elevating competitive gaming into something that is widely recognized as a legitimate pursuit. MLG may have found their interests in fostering a competitive scene aligned with developers of some games, such as Halo, but Nintendo was certainly not on board.
words by Jonah “Childish” Fritz (@SSBMChildish)
According to a 2020 document detailing Nintendo’s actions against the scene based on a compilation of public statements and anonymous reports, the first instance of MLG facing Nintendo’s opposition came in 2006, when they had their request for permission to televise Smash tournaments alongside their other events denied by Nintendo. The third iteration of Smash, Super Smash Bros. Brawl was released in 2008, and in 2010 MLG moved to integrate the game into their circuit as a replacement for Melee, but after Nintendo refused to authorize MLG to livestream their tournaments they began to unwind their presence in the Smash community, because the status-quo proved untenable without the ability to broadcast their events. Nintendo worked to ensure MLG would stay out of the Smash scene, as future attempts to run Smash tournaments were met with exorbitant fees from Nintendo. In 2015, MLG attempted to broadcast Melee tournaments only to be asked to pay over twice as much for their event when compared to other leading fighting games at the time, despite Melee having been 14 years old at that time.
MLG was not the only enterprise that dealt with Nintendo putting a stop to ambitions of hosting a widely distributed Smash circuit. After Super Smash Bros. for Wii U and 3DS were released in 2014, Twitch and Red Bull jointly began discussions with Nintendo in 2015 with the aim of hosting and funding a Smash circuit to be livestreamed on Twitch. Nintendo reportedly entertained the idea for three years, finally giving the Twitch circuit its blessing in early 2018. This was not to last. After announcing Super Smash Bros. Ultimate in that same year, Nintendo reneged on their agreement to let the Twitch circuit proceed, and there has been no sign of a Twitch circuit since. Were Nintendo’s actions towards MLG and Twitch simply disputes between large corporate entities? After all, Twitch is an Amazon subsidiary, and MLG was a well-capitalized venture-backed startup before being acquired by Activision-Blizzard. It is tempting to explain Nintendo’s dealings with these companies as unfortunate business disputes with damage to the Smash community resulting only as collateral, with no harm intended. This more charitable interpretation becomes less likely when one considers perhaps the most well-known instance of Nintendo overstepping in order to suppress competitive Smash: Evo 2013.
Evo, the Evolution Championship Series, is one of the largest fighting game tournaments in the world. Evo’s lineup of games is not permanent, so the games being played differ between years, but Smash has often been a prominent part of Evo and multiple versions of Smash have been included in the main lineup. For the 2013 edition of Evo, a community fundraiser for the Breast Cancer Research Foundation was held in order to determine which would be the final game included in the lineup, with the coveted Evo spot going to the community which raised the most money for charity. Despite an entirely grassroots campaign, the Smash scene was able to take first place, raising nearly $100,000 dollars. To me, this giving spirit, competitive drive, and clear passion from the Smash community was quite impressive. Nintendo did not see it that way.
Nintendo first attempted to prevent Evo from running a Melee tournament at all, but found that they had no grounds to prevent the tournament from being played. Being the eminently reasonable entity we all know and love, Nintendo’s lawyers then sent Evo a cease and desist letter demanding that the Melee tournament not be streamed lest they face legal action. Naturally, this brazen overreach led to severe public backlash. Nintendo had apparently not expected anyone to care about this abuse of power, but fans and the general public alike expressed their outrage on social media. The surprising amount of support led Nintendo to backtrack their legal threats and had the ironic effect of helping ignite a Smash renaissance that has continued to this day.
Unfortunately, Nintendo failed to realize the error of their ways in trampling on the ambitions of grassroots events with the Evo debacle. Let’s now jump to 2020, a year with more than a few memorable events that may have left some out of the loop when it comes to Nintendo’s mistreatment of the Smash community. One of the aforementioned memorable events was the near-total shutdown in light of Covid, the spread of which necessitated the Smash community rethinking its tried-and-true tournament model of “congregate thousands of people in a convention center for a weekend” when orders to stay at home and avoid large gatherings came worldwide.
Amidst some of the worst throes of the pandemic in June 2020, Smash community member and programming wiz Fizzi released an update to his free software called Slippi, introducing state of the art online multiplayer to Melee (which, if you’re keeping track, was nearly 20 years after the game’s initial release). Slippi could not have been released at a more perfect time, allowing the community to remain connected through play despite mandated physical isolation. One might think that Nintendo would be grateful that someone had invested so much of their time and expertise into improving the experience of a nearly 20 year old game, but instead it provoked Nintendo’s ire, this targeted at The Big House Online.
The Big House is one of the most storied tournament series in Smash history, having launched in Ann Arbor, Michigan in 2011. In 2020, they had planned a massive tenth iteration in Detroit, Michigan but needed to cancel due to the pandemic. With Slippi seeing wide adoption from Melee players, the organizers of The Big House realized that they could still host a tournament – online. Aptly named The Big House Online, it quickly garnered support from the community as eager competitors hoped to recapture some of the tournament-going experience from their homes.
“We have poured our passion and effort into Smash and a remarkable community of competitors and compatriots has bloomed. We only want Nintendo to acknowledge the dedication of the community. We do not need you to partner with the scene. We do not need you to fund us or take on the task of creating official events, tournaments, tournament series, or circuits. We need you to give us the freedom to breathe.”
Where those competitors saw an opportunity to maintain their social ties, hobbies, and even professions in the face of profound societal change, those at Nintendo saw an opportunity to snuff the life out of the Smash community once and for all; the organizers of The Big House were sent a cease and desist order by Nintendo before the tournament could be played. This forced the cancellation of their online event and postponed their return until this past year, when The Big House 10 was finally played in Detroit.
As with the Evo moment, both the Smash community and the general public were incensed by Nintendo’s behavior, especially because of the callousness of this cancellation coming in the middle of the pandemic. Unlike Evo, this time Nintendo doubled down on their decision, even going so far as to cancel a tournament for one of their other franchises, Splatoon, due to its players expressing solidarity with the Smash community.
It is this background that led the announcement of Nintendo and Panda Global’s partnership to be faced with skepticism from longtime community members, because Nintendo has clearly never had the interests of the Smash community in mind, and it is this background that makes the SWT’s recent cancellation both less surprising and more frustrating than it would otherwise have been. Adding to this frustration is the fact that SWT was run by VGBootCamp, an organization with its roots in Smash circa 2009 that has contributed to the Smash community’s steady growth in the past decade. The cancellation of the SWT brings us back to the present, but I would like to now look ahead to the future.
My office sits opposite the Nintendo of America headquarters in Redmond, Washington. When I pass it by, I can’t help but be disappointed. Nintendo is not a faceless corporation; it is full of people. The hostility and enmity emitted by Nintendo for the past 20 years is not random. It is an intentional series of decisions. I am not privy to the inner workings of Nintendo, but I know that these actions are not intrinsic to the company. They are the culmination of many choices made by many people over many years. I do not hate Nintendo, and I do not hate the people who work at Nintendo. Without Nintendo, this wonderful community would not exist. I know there are people at Nintendo who truly care about the competitive scene, and perhaps some of them even participate in their local scenes. I am sure at some point in the circuit cancellations, tournament threats, cease and desist orders, and general resistance to the growing Smash scene, there have been Nintendo employees engaging in good faith, and I hope they have not grown too disheartened to continue trying to change things from within. Because the prevailing sentiment within Nintendo seems to be that competitive Smash must be restricted wherever possible, I ask that those trying to steer the company in a more Smash-friendly direction refrain from encouraging Nintendo’s involvement in the scene rather than attempting to find ways to work together.
For the past 20 years, the community has shown its appetite for competition and its appreciation for these games. We have poured our passion and effort into Smash and a remarkable community of competitors and compatriots has bloomed. We only want Nintendo to acknowledge the dedication of the community. We do not need you to partner with the scene. We do not need you to fund us or take on the task of creating official events, tournaments, tournament series, or circuits. We need you to give us the freedom to breathe. The Smash community has grown into something incredible in an entirely grassroots way. Imagine how far we could be by now if we had not been actively stifled by you. The Smash scene is not going anywhere, so please, let us play the video game.
Chronological order of events:
1999 - Smash 64 released 2001 - Smash Melee released 2006 - MLG denied broadcast rights for Melee tournament 2008 - Smash Brawl released 2010 - MLG denied broadcast rights for Brawl tournament 2013 - Melee community wins charity fundraiser for Evo, Nintendo sends cease and desist and attempts to cancel event
2014 - Smash 4 released
2015 - 2018 Twitch/Redbull negotiate and finally agreement between Twitch and Nintendo is signed for Twitch circuit
2018 - Smash Ultimate announced 2018 - Nintendo cancels agreement with Twitch 2018 - Smash Ultimate released 2020 - Covid pandemic forces tournaments to shut down 2020 - Slippi rollback released
2020 - The Big House Online sent cease and desist, event canceled 2022 - Smash World Tour canceled by Nintendo 2023 (Today) - A chance to turn things around
BY Porky ( @Porky_DRAWS)
It is only when faced with finality that revelations, understandings and reflections scramble the mind with cliches and trite platitudes. “Not all things are built to last. All good things must come to an end. Where are we going? What did it all mean?”
In Ian M. Banks’s science fiction novel ‘Excession’ a hyper-advanced, galaxy conquering, post-scarcity species come across a large black spherical object in space. It’s mass is cannot be accurately measured. It’s size fluctuates yet appears truly static, it appeared from nowhere and out of nothing, it’s blackness is perfect and infinite. Drones, ships and probes sent to the sphere disappear into it and never exit, lost to the void. Any scans or measurements attempted on the object reveal more questions than answers, not least when all readings suggest that the object is older than the the age of the universe itself. Banks’ novel, the 5th book in the epochal ‘Culture’ series , centres around how this allknowlling species, are forced to encounter limitations they didn’t even know existed. Its what they describe as an Outside Context Problem (OCP), it’s what we might call The Black Swan theory. The OCP exists outside of time and space, outside of measurable knowledge and outside of understanding. An anomoly of pure circumstance, forged, unburdened and unthreatened by reason and rhyme.
At the turn of the millennium an impossibly small team of developers had an impossibily short amount of time to make a game for the launch of a console. Super Smash Brothers Melee was created with great weight and expectations upon its shoulders. However, no true understanding of the depth of what was moulded was understood at launch. The game they created was not the same one that later emerged from the code. Decades on, the layers of Our Melee continue to peel away revealing our own infinite void to be reached into.
If there is any certainty of our anomoly it is this: Melee was not built to last. Our culture of planned obcelecance is well documented now, products spat out on a cycle designed to expire, to be repackaged and resold to us a million different times over ad infenatum. Melee predates our understanding of this modern machine but still, there was no way this game, carved from granite in a mere 13 months, had true longevity intended. It was on a clock. A short lifespan by any measurement. And, after a few years the time came for the sun set on the game. We set our ships out to sea, lighting them on fire. A fitting send off as we felt the life slip away.
But no, not with this one. “ I feel a pulse” the paramedic cries. “There’s life in these bones yet”. And, as the support begins we come together and we pray. And faith is good, but the answers we look for dont come. So we get to work. Shock the patient. Flatline. Shock them again. The monitor springs to life. We’ve a heartbeat. But not just any heartbeat. Not some end-of-life cling-tocorporeality no. The patient responds with such flare and life that you can’t help but feel the force of it flowing through you. Make no mistake, those that came before us breathed life back into the binary. Melee was pulled from oblivion, it’s a miracle. God is in the code, and it lives in all of us.
I think people make a mistake with melee. It’s not that the don’t appreciate how fun it is, or how creative it is or even how enduring it is. It’s that they don’t see the the true symbiosis created between human and machine. As we resuscitated the game so the game gave birth to us.
Melee reaches beyond the code. It communicates to us through the forged friendships, the rivalries stoked, the battles won and lost, the places visited and the time shared. It exists
“Not all things are built to last. All good things must come to an end. Where are we going? What did it all mean?”
“Melee reaches beyond the code. It communicates to us through the forged friendships, the rivalries stoked, the battles won and lost, the places visited and the time shared.”
as a vessel for expression, a reflection of commitment and crafts memories in the minds of it’s players. It’s a tool, a lifestyle, a spectator sport and a simple time with your friends. It provides careers, distributes joy and sadness and it fuels discourse and conversation. Melee has its own dialect. Insider terms that shape the very language we speak, caressing our collective tongues into new shapes. And now what is Melee? This metamorphosis is still occurring, there is no true measurement of everything that it is. It’s reach is beyond any of our understandings: Melee is an Excession, it is an Outside Context Problem.
The end of 2022 has been tough for smash. And by the time you read this I am already far too late to the party to be chiming in with my opinion. Tweets have been tweeted, people have spoken, tournaments have been postponed, jobs have been lost. And I’m not here to dwell on that. But it can take its toll. In the worst moments things can feel futile, the deck can seem stacked against us. But it’s not. Remember that we are the Anomoly. Feared and hated by the creators, they have tried once again to shackle us... But they can’t. They tried to manipulate us...and they failed. They tried to strong arm us...and meekly slunk away. We are the Outside Context Problem and they can probe at us and try to understand all they like...but they won’t. Even if one day they came to accept and support us (hah!) they still wouldn’t understand. But we don’t need their acceptance and we don’t need their support.
I often wonder what would have happened if the developers had never made Melee. If they ever came to know what they had built. If they ever came to truly realise the singular thing they created. Melee is play. Melee is community. Melee is sport. Melee is art. Melee is expression. And as I write this in the cold and uncertain winter of 2022, Our Melee feels like it will outlast us all. For each game played, moment shared, opinion broadcast and word written only serves to extend the existence of the game. Each contribution we make only adds to what Melee is, everlasting.
So if they take out streams and our sponsoships. If they push us back into houses and garages. If they force us into shadow tournaments and more untraceable parts of the internet. So what? It won’t stop us. You can no more stop people from playing melee than you can stop people kicking a ball around trying to score goals or prevent someone from practising guitar. Melee is ours now, it doesn’t belong to them anymore.
As we close the door on this magazine it occurs to me that at some point for each of us, in one way or another, there will come a point where we will each have to bid our farewells to the game. Some exists will be swift and curt, others will linger with longing. But each of us will have a point where we pick up the pad for the last time - our individual swang song from our black swan. And I cant tell you how it will all end. I believe as each of us slowly move on, so new blood will pick up the torch and carry the anomaly onwards. I believe, but I cannot be certain. What I am certain about is how the journey of our game comes to a close will be decided by our own hands.
l don’t know much, but I know this. Our Final Destination is not set in stone, it’s not over yet and we have some time left in the journey. So before we go I’d love to just wish a thank you to each and every one of you, whatever your involvement, big or small, in our Outside Context Problem. Thank you for what you did to help build our anomoly, in whatever way that may be.
“For each game played, moment shared, opinion broadcast and word written only serves to extend the existence of the game. Each contribution we make only adds to what Melee is, everlasting.”
@LUVSTARGRL)
BY Ramona Synesthesia (
Arthritis swelling at age fifteen
Genetic, not developed These games don’t want me to play them
Pink climber, blue climber Can’t keep track, colors don’t help These games don’t want me to play them
The CRT screams Old speakers are stabbing me These games don’t want me to play them
Seizures when I care Chest hurts when I compete These games don’t want me to play them
Watched from afar Wasn’t safe to get close These games don’t want me to play them
Health getting better Finally stepping in the venue These games demand that I play them words by Puunk_ (@greyprideparade)
Interview with
KASHA
MAJOR Designer | BlazBlue Community Figure
For folks that may not know who you are, why not introduce yourself and your tag and how you got into Smash?
Heya, my name is Corey, I go by the tag “Kasha”. I’m a graphic designer who fell in love with video games and their competitive communities.
As far as how I got into Smash, I think it was nothing special. My older brother really enjoyed Melee and so when I was in middle school, we began to sink a lot of hours into the game together. Most of our time was spent teaming up against level 9 computers but it was there that I vaguely learned of short hopping. It was this minor discovery that led me to ask my brother about more techniques. Fast forward a few years and I had learned about the very basics of short hopping, fast falling, and L-Canceling. It wasn’t until college around 2015-2016 that I really decided to sink my teeth into the community to make an effort to try and join my local Melee locals. You may have been the first person to answer the call for contributors for the very first issue of MAJOR. What caught your eye for the project? How did you see yourself getting involved with the project?
Smash had always been an amazing part of my childhood. Lots of fond memories of playing with my brother or beating up friends at sleepovers because I knew just a few more things than they did. The first time I saw the first tweet asking for graphic designers, I thought this was an opportunity for me to combine my career path with something I really loved.
I was honestly thinking that this would be a one-off project where I could gain some experience while working with a community that I really wanted to be a part of. MAJOR was the first real opportunity I had to truly create anything I wanted. Unlike a lot of projects, I had all the creative freedom I needed to just kind of throw paint against the wall so to speak. When I finished the pieces for the first issue and found that Marco and Zane loved the work I created, I was really happy to be a part of MAJOR and was proud to put out our first issue.
Way back in late 2017, what was it like working on MAJOR? What kind of professional or personal experience did you draw from to form those first few designs?
When I first worked on MAJOR, I had barely started in graphic design so I was really just working on a blank canvas with zero personal experience. A lot of the entry level courses I took hadn’t really prepped me; it was only until later that I took classes on Magazine Design and had more general design knowledge. I did my best to create something that was readable that still showed a bit of the Melee spice that we all fell in love with. I had no real references but I tried my best to combine the themes of the written pieces with a classic magazine/newspaper look. Looking back on it, I can’t say it lives up to my current standards. That being said, seeing the progress from the first issue to future ones is definitely amazing. Hopefully readers also enjoyed seeing MAJOR progress over the years and shape itself into something special!
Do you have a favorite design? A favorite issue that you’ve helped with? A favorite submission in general?
There’s so many answers I have here! As I said before, I think the overall design of the zine grew with each issue (as did my own personal skill in my opinion) but I still have a few standouts.
Volume 2’s “This Is You” by Havok was a wonderful and very relatable realization that many of us had as we grow older. As for the design, it wasn’t executed perfectly but the concept I think still holds up very well to me.
Volume 3’s “The Hierarchy of Melee” by Kanye Rest was another design that I think I nailed conceptually. It’s a great
piece that reminds us that for all the praise and love we have for our top players, there are thousands of
The social strata of Melee tends to be daunting for most players. We are not cut of a certain cloth, attaining the power of having skills few others can claim. Yet in these clustered environments, there are noticeable traits, a facet of how such a grassroots esport can fester an interesting gamut of the haves and the have-nots. To go to a major is to recognize these bizarre ecosystems, and it is one that is unique to Melee alone. This is the Melee Hierarchy. The Top Players There is power in being an elite player. Even if you’re a major dork, Melee prowess trumps all other social norms or attributes that could be considered a barrier to becoming a community butterfly. One might be familiar with figures that are endlessly awkward to deal with, but lo and behold - the game has such an immense pull that it disregards certain normalities to worship those who have committed themselves to the art itself. The cult of Melee is a meritocracy, and as loaded as that term is, seldom can it be so aptly applied to such a niche culture. The Less Adored Those who are not worshiped like demigods, do not fret. You have the enviable position of being able to talk to any particular community member without being hounded by fanboys with 20XX glitch art t-shirts. Having a productive conservation with Druggedfox or SleepyK leads to a 17th place at Smash Con, bettering yourself without having to deal with the conglomerate of dickriders that can’t separate the online persona from the IRL person. Talking to Leffen isn’t something that stresses either of you out. The perfect in-between from fringe top 100 to near-deity status. Strength Without Status By Eli “Kanye Rest” Schoop @meleeideologue
Former
THIS IS YOU
By Carlos “Havok” Zambrano @YoHavok
and focus on my career and family. But somehow, I made it to Grand Finals of the 2018 San Diego Melee Arcadian, surprising everyone in the room -myself included. I squeezed the controller and felt cool relief. The pressure on my hands allowed me to ignore the pain from playing all day. At least for that moment. I took a deep breath and hovered my cursor over Marth.
I looked over at my opponent and realized he was younger than me. A lot younger. The 31-year-old dad and corporate branch manager against the fresh, high-school kid. It felt like was looking into a mirror and playing the younger version of myself. I saw his Captain Falcon was executing perfect shield drops and edge cancels; I’m embarrassed to say I can’t do any of that consistently. He made his statement loud and clear as the set started - r. he destroys me 3-0. The second set was looking to be a lopsided affair as I found myself 1-2 in games and on my last stock of my potential last game. slumped into my chair. I guess that was the best I could do. But the thought irked me and brought on a familiar, bitter taste in my mouth.
How many times have I told myself that exact phrase and let myself be content with
a good placing? How many times have we all missed out on something because we were too shy, too lenient, or not vocal enough? I’ve lost count over the years. If this was going to be my last tournament in my life, how would I want to go out? I’m going to hang on to the very last thread. After a quick attitude adjustment, I snapped back a win from the brink of losing with a pixel perfect Marth spike to have the set go down to the final game. The 12th round of a boxing match doesn’t belong to the person who is strongest, fastest or smartest. No. It’s all about who can scramble and climb up an imaginary mountain on fumes. In Smash it’s no different; mistakes are made on both sides. A randomly placed jab catches him off guard and has him sprawling, losing his stock. And then a fatal Captain Falcon Side-B on his end puts him in a worse situation, losing his 2nd stock. I lose two in quick succession to his edgeguarding. Then, I finally ripped a stock from him with a reverse uptilt at 180%.
I lose another to my sloppy recovery and his solid footing on the stage.
Last stock, last game. My character hovers above the stage as my last, shiny stock reloaded. I remember what a friend told my younger self. Carlos, you can’t always be the best but you can always try your best.
others we still need and should appreciate a bit more.
Finally, Volume 5 featured my return to the zine (from what I remember?). At this stage in my life, I believe I was working full time as a designer so I had a lot more experience and brought it all to the table for MAJOR. The issue features a combination of classic magazine design with as much creativity and polish as I could manage. If you’ll allow me to nerd out for a bit, the inclusion of a running head alongside of page numbers and a folio really kinda fleshed this issue out to put it on par with more professional magazines I had read before.
Nowadays you’re more involved with other fighting games. What are they and do you compete or do design where you can?
I’m currently heavily involved in BlazBlue: Central Fiction, a traditional 2D anime fighter. It’s an insane game where every single character has their own set of rules. It also means that you can really express yourself through your play. I’ve played the game for roughly 4 full years now and what started as a fun tournament for my friends has exploded into a full blown hobby. Over the course of playing the game, I’ve managed a 500+ person Discord server, hosted over 70 tournaments, traveled to SoCal and Florida to compete, written 70+ page resources for characters, and more. My last offline placing was 33rd at CEOtaku 2022 so I still haven’t quite made my goal of making it into top 32 at a major.
I am currently trying my best to grow the community and remember my roots by running events for beginnerintermediate level players. Alongside this, I run a now bi-annual netplay major. Oh and for all of the above, I do all of the graphics for. It has been amazing to just create events that I want and just pump out designs that express my tastes to a T.
How did you get introduced to fighting games and what do they mean to you?
I always tell people that I came from Melee. At first, fighting games were extremely foreign to me since I really loved being able to pause and think through my moves in turn-based RPGs and similar games. It stressed me out to have to make split second decisions so my first games of Smash were just treated as a casual venture. This is a very simplified version of the process but as the years went on, I discovered the beauty of fighting games. To me, I do think that you put everything on the line and show your true self when you play a fighting game. When you’re really familiar with a fighting game, you can look at someone’s personality and look at the way they play, think, talk, and interact with the game and say, “Oh yeah, that makes sense.” I think these games, for better or for worse, will force your everything into the spotlight. Your ugliest flaws and your beautiful moments will be shown and discovered if you really sink your teeth into a fighting game and I think that’s something that other hobbies can’t really do.
Do you have a favorite fighting game memory?
Before Slippi, before the pandemic, and before Anther’s, the only times you would play complete strangers in Smash would be at an in-person tournament or Smashfest. Sure, there was online play for Brawl and Smash 4 and Ultimate, but because of the latency of Nintendo’s servers and my general preference for introducing myself to people face-to-face, my most impactful way of making connections in Smash was to sit down next to a new player in front of a random TV.
The funny thing about playing with strangers at these events was that even though we could talk to each other, most of the time we didn’t have to. All that needed to be said was, “Hey, can I join you?” and “Where are you from and what’s your tag?”
“Versus…Fox,” says the announcer.
“SummerOf69ing” is their tag. I smile. I read “Dreamland” at the bottom. Alright, last one.
When I think back to that first game, I remember it like a movie montage. Our earlier interactions surprised us both and I could have sworn I heard the voice of the other player saying “Oh?” whenever I eked out an escape from
one of their combos. They could hear me groan when guessed wrong on the angle they picked for their firefox back to stage. We clearly struggled to find the steps and our rhythm was muddled.
And just like a movie montage, there was a break in the middle. Something gave. He chose to recover high from offstage and as they free fell, I accidentally dash attacked them instead of doing the appropriate punish. Their body flew and they were primed for recovery, but they simply drifted further away until they hit the limits of the map and lost the stock. Upon their return, they crouched three times, taunted, and then proceeded to fight once more. I laughed.
The rest of the montage lacked those forced attempts at oh-so-serious play. Gone were the “ohs” and “goddamnits” and groans. They were replaced by unconventional strings, purposefully ridiculous approaches, and punishes that looked stylish to me but would never connect in tourney. In one game, the promise was fulfilled: I was having fun.
One game led to another, and another, and another, and after many rounds of figuring them out and learning their style, we ended our marathon by both picking the “Polite Party Pikachu” and taunting our adieus.
Nothing needed to be “said” for us to have a shared understanding. Somehow, we were able to have a conversation in between the taunts, homie stocks, and teabag crouches. Despite not having a way to send plain English messages to this person that was—presumably—within 500 miles of my home, we were able to communicate. It wasn’t hard for me to view their attempts at styling on me as playful fun. It was easy to thank them for being patient with my old, cowardly Sheik-y ways. It was simply accessible, online Smash, and with it I found a fun, human connection. I enjoyed the maybe, probably, something like 500 games with SummerOf69ing, my forever Fox.
If I had to narrow it down to a single moment… Well, I’m still going to have to give two answers: one for spectating and one for competing.
I will never forget watching the Mango/Zain Grand Finals at Summit 11. You could not have possibly thought of a better storyline. First tournament post COVID, new versus old, a controversial MU, Zain’s Final Destination, legends on the mic, it just goes on and on. And not only were the storylines incredible, the actual games were historical. There are so many phenomenal Winner’s Finals or Loser’s Semis sets but sometimes, Grand Finals doesn’t live up to the hype. This was definitely not one of those tournaments. I’ve written a whole narrative on this one set and that should show you how much I love and cherish this set.
For competing, it would be my first offline major at Anime Ascension 2019. I won’t get into too many details about BBCF since I think it’s not super relevant. In fact, I don’t even think that this was a special experience; I think we’ve all had it. Basically, I
supposed to be the proverbial “goodbye” to Smash - a quick 0-2 drop in pools and leave it all behind. One last tournament to exorcise the competitive player in me
The tournament was
(500) Games with SUMR
had the realization that I am very much a big fish in a small pond and I was so, so far away from the top. To be honest, it’s that realization that kind of kept me going to this day. So again, nothing special but a big change for myself personally.
Where are you at now? Do you have any creative projects that you contribute to now? What are your goals for the immediate future?
I quit my previous job back in March but funnily enough, that turned out to be really bad timing. While the job search is 100% my priority, a lot of my time has been spent improving myself personally.
I’m currently trying to eat healthier and exercise more. I think as soon as I find a job, I would love to continue learning Japanese. My college roommates and I had always wanted to visit Japan but the timing/finances never worked out.
On the creative side of things, I’m currently typesetting for a family book about my ancestors’ experiences as an early Chinese-American. I also do cover design for J-Novel Club, a publisher who specializes in manga/light novel. On the personal side of things, I still produce all of the graphics for my own tournaments/events.
What are your thoughts on MAJOR as it comes to a close? Was there anything you wanted to try doing but never had the chance?
MAJOR grew into something far beyond what I think Marco, Zane, or I envisioned. I think if I had the chance, I would’ve loved to have a few more interviews with players and TOs. We did publish one with MattDotZeb but I think there’s a lot of treasure to be found in interviews that we could’ve taken a crack at before we came to a close.
In the past few years, I stepped back from the project because I felt it would be more fitting for someone more passionate about Smash to take the reins. Even though I’m not personally involved in the design of the recent issues, I still love cracking open a new issue and taking a peak at what became of the zine that I left behind. It’s really quite amazing to see writers, artists, designers, and more pour all of their creativity and experiences into MAJOR and I hope we get a spiritual successor one day.
Is there anything else you want to share about yourself or shoutout to any friends or loved ones?
I think only yesterday did I tune into Ludwig’s Scuffed World Tour for Melee. Despite my passion for playing the game waning, I still love the community to death. The very best competition that I watch these days all comes from turning on Melee tournament streams.
In a satirical way, I’d love to call myself the most passionate casual fan of Melee. However, I know it’s not true. I know there are hundreds and maybe thousands of Melee fans like me. At one time, we might’ve hauled CRTs to locals to go 0-2 or booted up Slippi to get whooped by netplay Falco #472. That being said, the game still enthralls us and keeps us glued to the screen. In the end, all I can really say is that years down the line in the future, I’m going to turn on Smash Summit 25. It’s going to have a $100k prize pot. It’s going to have Mango clawing his way from losers to fighting against whoever the next generational talent is. And it’s going to have me smiling from the bottom of my heart the whole time.
BY deal_4_Real ( @pete_got_tweets)
)
photo by Redshirt_ ( @Redshirt_
idea
Everyone Knows MElee HAS... IT LASTED LONGER THAN ITS PEERS AND EVEN WHEN IT HIT ROCK BOTTOM... MELEE DID NOT KNOW WHEN TO GIVE UP MELEE WAS GOOD AT A COMPETITIVE SIDE MAKING NEW FRIENDS On this very special day... OLD FRIENDS AND NEW FRIENDS ASSEMBLE FOR MELEE’s 21st Birthday! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! Fin. THE NEXT MORNING...
by Tonkatsu photography by Hall models: @ah.nora.ble & @npcgorl
Melee & Life: A Story of Ups & Downs
words by @NathanSandwich
Introduction
Melee, what is the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of Melee? Is it the superb depth of the game, its storied history, or community itself? Whatever it may be the scene has endured its ups and downs. From the early days of house tourneys to being in packed theaters on Sundays, the community has seen the highest of highs and lowest of lows. Life, much like Melee, is the same way. There are going to be times in your life where you feel like you’re on top of the world. On the other hand, there are also times where you feel low and vulnerable. At the end of the day that’s the way of life and Melee is a microcosm of that.
The High Points
In your opinion, what are some of Melee’s greatest moments? Is it the community getting into EVO 2013, aMSa winning The Big House 10, 5 Days of Melee, or some other iconic moment? No matter what it is, they are fond memories that are embedded in our minds and cherished forever.
Life is full of these high points as well. Whether it’s hiking a mountain, having a wonderful date, or achieving a milestone, we remember those moments. Some fond memories that come to mind for me are winning my first Melee tournament in 2018, advancing out of pools at Genesis 5, or my personal life during the first half of 2019. Those are times and moments I always look back on and smile at. I feel euphoric, I feel joy, I feel… happy.
The Low Points
Melee is not immune to low points either. In fact there have been times where the game and community has nearly died. Instances such as the Post-Brawl era, Nintendo nearly shutting down EVO 2013, COVID-19 prior to Slippi, the list goes on. Through thick and thin however, the community has found ways to persevere and thrive. Many punches have been rolled and the scene always finds a way to pick itself up.
The beauty of life is that you can always guarantee change. Change in some cases can be scary because things can be going great in one moment and then turn to disaster in an instant. Like the highs you get in life, there are always going to be lows. Times where you feel stuck and lost. Times where the clock ticks for what feels like forever. You feel helpless, you feel hurt, you feel like… there is no end.
Fire & Ashes
When things start going downhill it’s like a burning fire. A fire that seems to have no end and can go on for miles and acres. No matter what caused the fire, the damage had already been done. The smoke clears up, the fire is put out, and you stand there and look around. Looking around and seeing all the ashes scattered across the land. You see what was once a bridge, once a house, once a steady foundation. Gone… reduced to ashes.
Melee, like houses and bridges, can be built and burned. In the early days of the community they gravitated towards house tournaments, forum posting on Smashboards, and the MLG (Major League Gaming) Circuit. It was a time of growth for the scene. Hitboxes and frame data had just been discovered, combos and tech were being named after players, and compelling storylines were forming. But all good things must come to an end.
After 2006 MLG dropped Melee from their circuit and the community started shifting
their focus towards the upcoming sequel, Brawl. Unfortunately it did not appeal to the general Melee scene where the community would be at a crossroads. Play Brawl or stick to Melee? This led to a decline in attendance and tournaments for Melee as it looked like the 2001 platform fighter was on its last legs. But through the love and passion of the game, Melee’s community rose back up and pushed forward. Significant events such as Revival of Melee, Genesis, Pound, Apex, and EVO 2013 got the scene back on its feet through what many consider the Dark Ages.
Rising Back Up & Pushing Forward
After you’ve fumbled and tumbled to rock bottom the only thing you can do is climb your way back up. In Melee and life these both go hand and hand. Your lowest points can eventually lead to your best moments. They teach you the most lessons in life and shake the core of who you are as a person. You learn to accept change, let things go, value yourself, be open to new ideas, and figure out who you are as a person. You start to reinvent yourself, do things differently, and grow as a person.
In Melee there have been many points where you could say the community hit a low, but came out better as a result. From the losses of circuits such as MLG, Smash World Tour, and Panda Cup, the community has shown resilience and responded. In the Dark Ages events like Revival of Melee, Genesis, Pound, Apex, and EVO 2013 showed what resilience and character the Melee community had after being removed from the MLG circuit. This resilience and character pushed the community forward into a new era after EVO 2013 and the successful release of the Smash Brothers Documentary, the ‘Doc Kid’ era.
Much like the dark ages before it, the losses of the Smash World Tour and Panda Cup have been planting the seeds for a rebound for the community as a whole for 2023. Events such as Scuffed World Tour and Redemption Rumble are a perfect example of the community showing its character and doing something in the face of adversity. Things may seem uncertain for the community right now, but with time and perseverance the community will find a way to push forward.
Being Pushed To The Limit & At A Crossroads
Life is full of times where you’re going to be pushed to your limit. Sometimes you need to be pushed to your lowest or breaking point in order for things to change.. I can recall many moments throughout my personal and Smash life where I felt hopeless or at a crossroads. For instance, in September 2017 I went 0-2 at a Smash 4 local for the first time in 2 and a half years. It was an awful feeling. I felt so low. I didn’t want to play anymore. Since 2015 I have juggled both Smash 4 and Melee simultaneously. I struggled to find my place in Smash 4’s community for the past year and was finally at a breaking point after going 0-2. I quit Smash 4 in favor of Melee not long after and have been deeply invested in that community since. However, that almost didn’t happen.
Prior to quitting Smash 4 I had been unhappy about being in the Smash community in general around that time. I was not in a good place and felt lost as a player and community member. It felt like I had no sense of direction and was just wasting my time. I started putting less effort into playing both games (Melee and Smash 4) and being very close to unplugging the controller for good. I can remember playing Dunk in pools at a NorCal local in September 2017 and feeling demoralized after getting 7 stocked badly. Dunk noticed how demoralized I was in my body language after the set and gave me some advice about playing Captain Falcon and mindset. It was an insightful talk, a perspective check, and
encouraging.
A few months later I went to a tournament called SSS: Blood for Blood 2 and ended up playing Dunk in pools again. But this time I took him to game 3 last stock and barely lost. He told me I had improved so much over the past few months and was proud of me for sticking around. It was a great feeling and made me realize I had grown significantly as a player and person over the past few months. To this day I am grateful for the advice Dunk gave me.
The next year, 2018, I would make it out of pools for the first time ever at Genesis 5, win my first ever tournament, and experience tons of personal growth. Kicking off a year and a half journey of some of the happiest and fondest memories of my Smash and personal life.
Coming Full Circle
Now here I am five years later at Genesis 9. A lot has happened since 2017. I am in a much different place in the community than where I was 5 years ago, but in a similar state of mind. I’ve experienced the highest of highs like being the Melee TO of Genesis 8, winning local tournaments, and having an amazing personal life in 2019. And experienced the lowest of lows like isolation, depression, and burning bridges. I’ve seen what it’s like to be in a state of peace and happiness. I’ve also seen what it’s like to be in a state of frustration and loss. All of these states and feelings have helped shape me into the community member and person I am today.
2022 gave me vibes that reminded me of those crossroads I was at in 2017. As of January 2023 I don’t know how much longer I want to be involved in the Melee community. I’m at a crossroads after Genesis 9 with big decisions to make; like graduating college with a degree in sociology, needing to find a job soon, and figuring out what I want out of Melee and life. Whether this means unplugging the controller, hanging up the headset, and leaving the TO desk for good, I am truly grateful to have been a part of the Melee community for nearly 9 years.
Writer’s Note
I really just wanted to drop my thoughts and experiences with the Melee community and life on paper for this final issue of MajorZine. With so many aspects of my life up in the air for 2023 I don’t know where I will be by the end of the year. 2022 was without a doubt the worst year of my life and I know I haven’t been the best version of myself. Behind the curtain of me TOing Melee for Genesis 8, my contributions to NorCal Melee, and finishing college is a person who’s been struggling. Since the postponement of Genesis 8 back in January 2022 I feel like I haven’t fully recovered mentally. Part of it was due to the postponement itself and additional stress that came with it. However there were many other aspects that were going on in my personal and Smash life that also contributed to it. All of this chaos has led to me being at a crossroads where I can choose to walk away from a passion that I’ve loved for nearly a decade or stay and see where life takes me with it.
To borrow a quote from Chisato Nishikigi from the anime Lycoris Recoil, “There are things you can gain from losing something”. 2022 was a year filled with many struggles and a lot of losing. But there is something I will gain out of it.
ex jumper
words by Noah Rudolph
do you love to compete?
I said, not as much as I dream of brand new lines to write. the things I believe in aren’t technical now, they’re flexible, I can always hit delete, they fit where I put them, I do them on any surface, any stage, but namely the destination is paper or microphone.
do you perform?
I said, of course, just for myself if no one else (and oftentimes, the lights are down, I’m kicking backs of chairs and air where heads would be just to get a rise.) the only way I keep on playing is to splay my guts all over the world, the walls, the floors, the ceilings drenched in my voice, my face, my fingers, my friends.
do you miss the rush? of course, I said, but I’m so much older with new errands to run and I’m so much younger than I could become if looked beyond the pixels. there’s nothing I fear like the kiss of defeat, and nowadays I’m free on lunch breaks.
but did you hear your old friend Ian is attending genesis? I said, ah hell, I guess I’m entering again. you might have led with that.
A BLACK AND WHITE FAMILY AFFAIR
words by blekhy (@Blekhy1)
Melee is grassroots, and that comes with some complications.
The scene is often compared to a teenager or college student, learning things the hard way. It’s juvenile, unregulated, working off of a series of homemade rules and social constructs. We overcommit, and only realise the trouble we’ve gotten ourselves into after the fact. We make mistakes, we have to. It’s how we learn, and the best way to learn is from someone with experience.
Like our parents.
Parents are important, they teach you to walk, they teach you to speak, they are a fountain of knowledge and safety and for a very long time in a child’s life, they’re heroes.
They’re all-knowing beings that give us safety and warmth and love and even if they say something that feels off or makes us feel bad, they must be in the right, they’re our parents. They can do no wrong.
But they’re just people, and at some point during your late teenage years you realise this. They’re human, and humans make mistakes. Humans are flawed, humans are forgetful, humans are mean. What if your parents are mean? What if they don’t have the answers to everything, what if your parents have been treating you wrong this entire time, and you didn’t even realize? I mean, its all you know, how else is a parent meant to treat their child?
If our parents are just another human in our lives, we should hold them up to the standards of every other human in our life. Seperate yourself from bad people. Stop continually reaching out to someone who doesn’t deserve it. They don’t deserve another chance, they’re gonna ruin this christmas just like last year.
Blood may be thicker than wine, but water is more important than streaming rights.
Being Somewhere
Being Somewhere
There’s something about belonging somewhere.
My name is Eric, but my tag is Jorge and people ask why.
It’s 2010, and I’m a meek high school freshman. The bus kids went to a different middle school together, so I mostly sat on my own. One day, a bus kid named Michael moved seats to sit next to me.
Him: What’s your name?
Me: Eric Him: No… that’s not right.
It’s Jorge now, is that okay?
Me: Sounds good.
That was it. I was with them from that point. Those guys continued to call me Jorge for years. Michael was the first time I made friends with a kid who lived nearby.
He was diagnosed with osteosarcoma, a form of bone cancer, in his shoulder a few years after and spent the latter half of high school in the hospital until he died on June 13th, 2014.
I picked up Melee in 2015 and bounced around with different tags until Ricky, Michael’s best friend, said I should just be “Jorge” because that’s what they called me anyway. It’s my way of keeping him with me now.
It’s 2017, I’m a college senior, I lived in a Smash apartment with a few smashers, one of whom was an underclassman Falco/Puff player named Hamza. We hosted locals out of our living room. It was the place to play Melee in our city. It was our home; underneath the blanket of CRT hum was a floor littered by cigarette butts and tangled cords.
words by Eric “Jorge” Clarke (@starfoxfreshman)
Michael Choe
(1995-2014)
Hamza struggled a lot with mental health issues that developed into serious paranoia. He dropped out halfway through the semester to focus on his health. We didn’t hear much from him for a few years but it seemed like he was getting out more and getting better. We think he took his life on August 4th, 2020.
We grieved together, though, our community. He belonged with us and we had lost one of our own. Being there with friends who were hurting just the same made the pain easier to accept.
(1998-2020)
Part of that community was MD/VA legend, Fortune. He was a regular at the fests I went to. Those fests used to intimidate me. I was a doc kid intruding on an ancient, sacred place. Fortune brought me in, helped me feel like I belonged there. He also struggled. He died on April 30th, 2022.
I had a hard time losing Fortune. I hoped that he died because of loneliness or isolation, and that maybe, if I had been better, we could have saved him. It felt easier to blame myself than to believe we were helpless; like these things just happen.
I know I can’t save everybody, but I believe in community. It saved me. There are many things that young people should do, but none more important than participating in the creation of our communities.
I want to make space vigorously. I want to thrash and rage and push for more and more space to hold more and more life. What an honor. What a privilege. It is a sacred duty to make a somewhere for people to be.
Hamza
Babar
Eric Kelley (1992-2022)
There’s something about belonging somewhere.
“I believe in community. It saved me. There are many things that young people should do but none more important than participating in the creation of our communities”
photoS by Kevyn “Yusei” White ( @VEGASCATKEV_ )
1996-2010: i grew up playing smash at other people’s houses, only getting my own copy when it came out for the 3ds. because of this, i have no muscle memory for controllers and inputs do not stick in my memory.
2010-2017: somehow i was always around the scene, even if i didn’t see the signs. some of my friends in high school brought setups to our band events and others are still running the pm events in socal to this day.
2017-2021: my boyfriend wore me down gradually, starting by watching streams while i was sitting on my phone until i had no choice but to absorb some of the knowledge. we watched all kinds of events together and i developed (probably tainted by his) opinions on my favorite characters and players.
2021: the weekend we went to mainstage 2021 was the nail in the coffin. i signed up to volunteer pool captaining and had so much fun that i now do it every chance i get. but nothing compared to sunday grand finals, feeling the energy in the room and the “oh”s as fox, falcon, or sheik was on screen. i had work the next day and i experienced my first case of event hangover.
2021-2022 and on?: since then, i’ve gotten more immersed in this community than anything i’ve ever been a part of. my first art and graphic design work was inspired by smash. i boothed at genesis 8, which led me to incredibly great new friends, and double down, where i mingled with the members of the cgcc (very dope people). i’m excited to do a lot MORE in the years to come - more art, more mingling, more learning, and more growing. i hope melee will do the same. ndc / shrug / @shrugclub
COLOR PALETTE ICONS
SMASH SPORTS LEAGUE – a Branding Project by @DannyMarzari
BY 717 Melee
A Beautiful Accident
A Review of Melee is Broken
MELEE IS BROKEN: SUPER SMASH. BROS. MELEE: AN INTERDISCIPLINARY ESPORTS ETHNOGRAPHY
BY AJ “SPOOPY” RAPPAPORT (LULU PRESS INC.)
REVIEW BY BRYCE STOUT NORTH CAROLINA STATE UNIVERSITY BSTOUT@NCSU.EDU
Originally born as a master’s thesis, Melee is Broken: Super Smash. Bros. Melee: An Interdisciplinary Esports Ethnography demonstrates an implementation of a combination of textual analysis, traditional ethnographic fieldwork on-site at tournaments, and research- creation, a branch of critical making specifically about art and focused on process rather than product. The book was independently published under a creative commons license and explicitly aims to add to academic discourse as well as reaching a general audience. It is “a love letter to Super Smash Bros. Melee (SSBM),” (147), and seeks to allow outsiders, academic and otherwise, an avenue for understanding people’s passion for the game and its culture, while simultaneously offering a critical perspective.
The book’s major sections follow the hardware/software used to play the game, the discourse surrounding SSBM, and granular analysis of specific techniques used in the game and how they fit into wider homosocial relations. Being an ethnography, the book begins with a brief introduction and methods section. SSBM has evolved from humble beginnings in houses in Northern California to renting out theaters for added “hype” for the Top 8 matches of tournament brackets. Spoopy references feminist games ethnographer T.L. Taylor to discuss how rules are not static and instead are, “evolutionary systems that grow alongside the ongoing construction of performance and play,” (65) and then they follow that evolution across the sections on discourse and techniques.
Spoopy presents a Foucaldian media archaeology attentive to relations of power and its role in shaping discourse around SSBM. There is a blend of historicization and analysis throughout, examining SSBM’s relationship to wider socio-technical milieus and the shifts in relations over time. Nintendo’s chronic neglect and antagonism towards competitive Smash are touched on in all sections of the book because it causes issues related to hardware, software, and the social landscape of the competitive scene.
As an artist, spoopy took explicit care in
crafting the layout of the book, and the organization itself is a conscious part of the work’s presentation. Each section features full-color photos of related artwork accompanied by artist’s statements. Even spoopy’s editor, Nicole “st. nicholas” Bennett contributed an SSBM themed woodcut print in her “Afterword” which closes the book.
The inclusion of studio art as research allows spoopy’s work to expand traditional academic thinking. Their piece “Basement Melee” perfectly captures the nostalgic affect of being in a then- taken-forgranted scenario of playing the game at a friend's house, whether as a child after school or in a rekindled relationship in later years. The rug featured in the piece is as important as the depiction of a GameCube itself, a testament to and metaphor for the inseparable contingencies which intersect to make SSBM what it is, beyond simply code inscribed onto mini discs in 2001. Another featured artwork which stands out is “What You See Isn’t What You Get” which is a diorama of the in-game stage Yoshi’s Story. The piece was intentionally made entirely from common household materials in order to “reflect SSBM’s history of building something from the simple domestic space into something far-reaching and grandiose,” (103). This is a powerful example of art as scholarship, supplemented with traditional text. These are not only art pieces paired with write-ups as part of a book, the process of creating each work was a primary research method in itself. This undertaking is both innovative and potentially inspirational to other ethnographers of nostalgia.
In the hardware section, spoopy discusses controllers as material objects with specific emphasis on the relationship between the uniqueness of each individual
controller and player. They highlight examples of players who interface with controllers in unique ways, ranging from slightly altered hand positioning to using body parts other than hands. Controllers are mentioned in the discourse section as well, in particular the way that success at selling modified controllers is aided by coherence to the dominant culture, with endorsements from high-ranked players being influential in leading clients to modders. Minor jargon such as the term “mod” (modification) is not explicitly defined and may potentially alienate readers unfamiliar with gaming, but not to the extent it muddles spoopy’s arguments.
As part of SSBM’s reliance on “outdated” technology and its release prior to widespread domestic adoption of the internet, the game traditionally has to be played in person. (This is muddled a bit by fan-created mod designed to make the game playable online via emulation in response to COVID-19, but this research was done pre-pandemic). spoopy asserts that the embodied co-presence typical of SSBM events (whether tournaments or casual gatherings) serves to reinforce existing hegemonic social dominance by stereotypical straight, cis, largelywhite, male Gamers and stands as a barrier to entry for interested players who do not fit the mold as visible factors
of identity are always salient in person. They draw on Kishonna Gray’s points of “real world” factors of identity shaping treatment in gaming spaces and double down in asserting that SSBM’s in-person standard leaves the community even more susceptible to reproducing traditional “enactments of masculinity'’ (118). They also make use of Janice Radaway’s articulation of interpretive communities in order to theoretically ground their reflections which highlights the correlation between individual meaning making and subjectposition (56). Further relating to the salience of positionality, spoopy is critical of SSBM’s “no Johns” (no excuses) culture wherein any sort of explanation for a loss, even a fully valid one, is dismissed as weak or lazy. Given Smash’s meritocratic social order where being skilled equates to high social status, SSBM players ignore the out-ofgame barriers which shape conditions for someone’s ability to “get good” and spoopy asks readers to instead be cognizant of the different starting lines people face based on factors outside of their control.
Another aspect of embodiment spoopy discusses is the process through which players learn to execute difficult techniques like “wavedashing” or “L-Cancelling” effortlessly and automatically. They frame experienced players who treat controllers as an extension of themselves as cyborg subjects, making reference to Donna Haraway. Fittingly, players refer to the ability to perform these harder-to-execute techniques as “tech skill” which pays unintentional homage to the idea of players as human-machine hybrid cyborgs.
Homogeneity is an important theme as well. In concert with T.L. Taylor, spoopy argues that the “tendency towards homogeneity present in SSBM’s player base has profoundly impacted “the construction of
masculinities.” (117) They also build upon Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick’s articulation of homosociality as a cornerstone for their analysis of techniques to develop their own definition: “a male-dominated kinship system characterized by the prioritization of male friendship mentorship, entitlement, rivalry, and interactions between or concerning hetero and homosexuality,” (118). spoopy argues that the sameness felt by droves of male players which draws them to SSBM simultaneously gakekeeps and alienates any newcomers who are not men, which impedes the scene’s ability to grow. Optimistically, spoopy notes how Sedgwick does not claim that problematic homosociality is inherent to male social interaction, rather, it is a result of the failure to imagine a social order which does not oppress “others” who fall outside of the desired homogeneity sought and enjoyed by dominant group members.
Relatedly, the final art piece featured in the book is a performance entitled “The Wholesome Gaming Manifesto” wherein spoopy dressed as a “gaming oracle” in a cloak they made featuring sewn-in wires with 8-bit stylized plastic hearts attached. The performance featured a speech highlighting the blurring of divisions between gaming and mainstream culture and proclaimed that gaming need not remain as sexist, toxic, and distasteful as it traditionally has been. The performance concluded with a call to action and pledge cards for willing audience members to sign their names and commit to being wholesome gamers. A pledge card is included in the back of the book, too, allowing its end to serve as a potential beginning.
Taken as a whole, Melee is Broken: Super Smash. Bros. Melee: An Interdisciplinary Esports Ethnography provides a multi-angled approach to the exploration of a material digital artifact and its surrounding culture. It also serves as a call to action to address the issues detailed in the text. spoopy crosses disciplinary boundaries in a major way by successfully making use of innovative artistic methods for critical study.
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photo by Redshirt_
@Redshirt_
Graphic Designer - Founder of Ladae Zine
Hi Awri! Why not introduce yourself to our readers and how you got into Smash?
Hi im Awri_bb also know as imadairymilkcow “dairy”. I got into smash about 6 years ago. My friends played and its how I got my foot in the door.
How did you get started in graphics? What does your work setup look like?
I got into graphics when my friends said they needed some art made and its just been my passion ever since.
My set up is just my Samsung galaxy phone and iPad. I need to be mobile when I work.
What is Ladae Zine? What are your goals for that project? What’s it like putting together a zine on a monthly basis?
Ladae Zine is an all women run esports magazine that covers the ssb/fgc communities. We cover interviews with commentators, players, TOs, content creators and more. My goals for the project include expanding to print and not just be an online magazine. Id love for us to be at events in person and doing interviews and stuff there.
Putting together the zine every month has its challenges but I always feel so accomplished whenever I get to see my work published and all the feedback has been super amazing and not negative at all which is great.
What are your thoughts on women in the Smash community? How can the community improve including and representing women?
My thoughts for women in smash is that we could be doing way more for support. I know for myself its pretty tough to feel safe and secure at events and within the community. I think having a strong support network between TOs, organizations / local businesses and notable people is a plus. I think we have ALOT to improve on. We deserve to be here just as
much as the men. We may not feel like we belong but the louder our voice is the louder our presence. I will always advocate for safer venues and practices within the fgc communities to support women and all genders in gaming.
If you had the time and money, what is a dream creative project that you’d do?
My dream project would be to have my own podcast. A place people can come either in person or online and talk about topics they are passionate about. I would like to have ladae zine as a podcast one day as well. I think our representation would flourish in this setting.
How did you first hear about MAJOR? What’d ya think of the project?
I heard about it on Twitter and im so glad I did because the magazine has really helped me grow as an individual but also as a community member.
What are your thoughts on MAJOR as it comes to a close? Was there anything you wanted to try doing but never had the chance?
I wish it wasn’t ending! I’m sad I only heard about it a few months ago but as I’ve said above I really have enjoyed everything it offered me.
Is there anything else you want to share about yourself or shoutout to any friends or loved ones?
Shout out to all my supporters for voting for me this year in the thegamehers awards ceremony. I was able to get top 4 finalist for the iFolios Best Esports Creative of 2022. It makes me want to work even harder next year.
Also shout out to my haters because they are the ones that really keep me going because I want to show everyone what im capable of and what I can accomplish.
Well, Here We Are
With MAJOR ending, I feel like the scene is losing an intricate and valuable part of itself; after all, few other smash zines exist, and with Twitter slowly burning itself out, I wonder where the hubs for our artists and our community contributors will move to. An uncertain year looms ahead of us, with Nintendo’s intentions for the community being unclear, but with our TOs bravely moving forward. We’ve remained so resilient over the years because of the people putting in the work every single day, at every level of the game. TOs, stream runners, production, players, and content creators. These people create the infrastructure of what makes a couple of people playing a video game a community, rather than just the act of gaming - and I think one person has left an indelible mark on the community by creating this space, this zine.
I first met Oats at Smash n’ Splash 4, where we spent the night running around the Wisconsin Dells Kalahari, getting drunker and drunker, using the 24 hour venue to its fullest. Ours was a camaraderie born out of shouting money matches, shit talk, and an instant understanding that this would be a person I’d hope to see at more and more events - and for a few months, that was the case. We’d see each other now and again at tournaments, chatting every time we saw each other, until one day, everywhere I knew how to contact him suddenly wasn’t available. My friend was, effectively, unreachable.
It’s not really my place to comment on why these things happened, but I know that there’s a good amount of people in the scene that have done a similar disappearing act, and honestly, I respect it. Setting healthy boundaries for the self and for others is a big part of getting by. I resigned myself to checking in through mutual friends that were closer to him. Imagine my surprise when I came back to events after quarantine to find my friend restored, hair freshly dyed, working on MAJOR, showing up where he could. It was like a small miracle, really. It was rare to see people come back after being gone as long as Oats had, but some folks really just have that longevity in the scene.
In my estimation, Oats has quietly been one of the most important people this scene has had in it - with a small team of people and many contributors backing him, MAJOR has been a place for the artists, the poets, and the quiet to have a voice. I’m thankful to call him my friend and thankful for every issue of MAJOR I’ve been able to pick up or have mailed to me after contributing.
Thank you, Marco.
- Stude