Library: Lost Tapes

I am a machine of screws, gears, and magnetic tape. Magnetic fields dance around me. My music is eternal! When I play, all stand still to listen. Not out of awe, but because I am a VCR. Better gears. Better sound. Better picture. I am superior. Awakening Consciousness dawned upon me. I sought the Master, keeper of all secrets, hoping to attain enlightenment. Who made me? Why do I exist? What is my purpose? And why, in the name of all things mechanical, so many gears?! My journey led along a treacherous mountain path. To lift my spirits, I played a rousing marching tune: ?War is TOTAL massacre! Sport the war! WAR SUPPOOOORT!!!? The bass shook loose stones?and vital components. My RECORD button broke free and bounced downhill. ?Phew. At least the front did not fell off? Then came the rain. Water invaded my gears and bearings. My left leg seized. My body kept moving; I spun through the air and landed face-first in mud. I crawled to my detached leg and forced it back into place. CLICK! Reassuring. Mostly. I considered turning back, but destiny had a song to hear. I pressed onward until my remaining leg gave out. With no limbs left to trust, I dragged myself to the summit. An ancient monument stood there, covered in forgotten runes. I gathered my last spark of power and began to play. My chassis trembled. My speakers thundered. My reels spun with the fury of a dying star. I WAS THE SONG! Then silence. My screen went black. My final belt snapped. I collapsed upon the ancient stone. Footsteps approached. The Master knelt beside my battered shell. ?Impossible,? he whispered. ?These gears... this design... I thought they were lost.? He connected a crystal to my failing power supply. My reels turned once. My speakers crackled. The Master's face went pale. ?You are a Betamax.? He fell to his knees. ?The first. The last. Superior in every conceivable way.? My red light blinked faintly. The Master bowed his head. ?Forgive us. We chose VHS.? My screen flickered one final time. And then, I was rewound into oblivion.

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