Friday, September 14, 2007

Wii Are Freaking Old

I'm all for Nintendo's phenomenal plan to undermine the recent trends in the videogame industry by creating a game platform that appeals to a wide variety of individuals, the most publicly notable ones being senior citizens with the Wii. But something about this picture is disturbing.

I know I should be like, "Oh, aren't they cute! Look how they swing that Wiimote around like they're 62 again!" but in all actuality, this image bothers me. Maybe it's the fact that they both look like they're seriously messed up. If these were young people, I'd assume something like they were drunk, but I know that is most likely not the case here, and I'm left with a strange mix of revulsion and pity. I just want to look away, whereas I should want to hug them and praise them for being so fun and willing to try new things.

Nope, just not happening.

Also, this just in, I'm going to hell. Big surprise.

Thursday, September 13, 2007


And my MySpace page access has been restored, for those of you keeping score at home.

Strange Fantasies, Fulfilled By Old British People

From BoingBoing:

A retired British couple has taken up permanent residence in a motorway-side Travelodge motel, consummating their love affair with the chain, which began when they stayed at one while looking after a sick relative.

"There is always something going on outside our window," said Mr Davidson, 79, a former Royal Navy sailor and war veteran, in the couple's room beside the A1.

"Our room looks out to the car park and a busy slip road where lorries pass by throughout the night.

"We have everything we need here - and the staff are like family now. We only have to walk across the car park for meals.

"There is just no reason why we'd want to go home."

When I was in college, I used to talk to my friends all the time about this weird fantasy I had where I lived in a Florida motel and just, well, watched. I would go buy beer at the Circle K nearby, as well as large amounts of beef jerky, take in a little midget wrestling on TV, wear only banged-up jeans and wifebeaters, grow nasty facial hair, and sport a mesh cap of some kind, presumably with John Deere or something like that on it.

I thought about this all the time. I convinced myself it was a valid sociological experiment, tantamount to Jane Goodall living among primates. It seemed like such a great idea, it became a focal point of my thoughts for a while.

I still think about it sometimes, just vanishing, and popping up again eventually in this way. Perhaps documenting it, writing, photographing things, or just living in that state for an extended amount of time.

Monday, September 10, 2007

On The Rocks

You know what I love? Glitchy MySpace problems! I love love LOVE them. So yesterday, I am doing some things, whatever, responding to a message or two, log out.

Come back later, password does not work. Better yet, now I get sent to a screen with a captcha, which clicks back ON ITS OWN to the login page, that is still not working. So not only can I not log in, I can't even verify my account status, because the page is reloading itself too quickly.

Really MySpace?


Haven't we been getting along lately? I've been pleased with your subtle upgrades over time, and I really kind of figured we had an understanding. I wouldn't overuse you, and you would be there for me, when I need to feel like I'm not a monstrous hermit who alienates himself from everything around him because of deep-seated masochistic tendencies.

And now this.


"MySpace - A Place For Friends"...

I really thought we were. I guess I'm just stupid that way.