I think I’m developing scoliosis from improper leaning. There is a good chance that the tightness in my hands signals carpal tunnel syndrome. Voices haunt me in my sleep, urging me to go upstairs and play the bongos with them. Still, I cannot help myself and I continue to play the video game that will eventually bring about my demise: Donkey Konga.

For those of you who have not yet been exposed to arguably the most addictive form of procrastination since man’s discovery of woman, Donkey Konga is a game in which you play along to popular songs on a set of glorious, plastic bongos. The beats are demonstrated by Diddy Kong, accompanied by a clearly homosexual elephant and a group of birds that bear a strange resemblance to tropical fruits.

This is not necessarily an all-star panel of judges, but the bongo player is nonetheless helpless in his or her search for their rhythmic approval. The musician is judged, quite leniently in this writer’s opinion, on the ability to keep tempo on approximately 30 sweet tracks. The music selection is eclectic to say the least, containing mid-’90s hits (“The Impression That I Get”), classical pieces (“Hungarian Dance No. 5”), novelty holiday songs (“Stupid Cupid”) and some of the greatest songs of all time (The B-52’s’ “Rock Lobster”).

Like so many good boys this year, I found Donkey Konga underneath a Christmas tree, and I played those bongos till the wee hours of the morning. In two days’ time, it was time for me to leave for tour, knowing well that I had to leave Donkey Konga behind. It was difficult to say goodbye, as I sat in a darkened room with bongos on my lap, playing to ease my pain.

Salt was poured in my wounds when I called home only to hear my mom struggling to get through “Diddy’s Diddies.”

When DK and I reunited, it was joyous. I began to preach the good word, bringing some of my friends into the warm light that is Konga. So many of them have now been hooked, calling my cell phone at all hours and asking for a “tap tap clap,” but none can compare with the love that Julie Lake ’05 demonstrates for the game, which makes her scream and cry. Lake exhibits an enthusiasm and commitment level unrivaled in the Yale Konga community.

I encourage everyone to try Donkey Konga for themselves, but know that it is not exactly easy to go cold turkey. I have met only one person who has dared to speak ill of Donkey Konga, and that would be Brian Reed ’07. Rumor has it that although Brian hates the Konga and tries to sabotage people from playing it within his suite, he has failed to give one reason for such misdirected aggression.

Brian Reed … is not to be trusted.

For those of you who simply cannot get enough Konga in your lives, know that my door is always open. I will challenge anyone to a bongo match, for this game has allowed me to realize that I am a prodigy (along the lines of the 4-year-old Amadeus Mozart) on plastic percussion instruments.

More importantly, know that a sequel has been announced. Donkey Konga 2 is scheduled to be released later this year, featuring a much wider selection of songs that is rumored to include old-school television themes. One can only hope that this version will also include the natural beauty that is Dixie Kong, the gorgeous ape with long blonde hair whose hair flip rivals that of a young Bo Derek.

Still, this is most likely a pipe dream as the knockout cartoon continues to undergo ongoing court battles concerning some “revealing” pictures that were fraudulently published last April.

Justin Noble would have made a clever pun about ‘Don Quikonga,’ but he was playing with his bongos.