20 April 2010
We all know that Lady Gaga is talented, bizarre and beloved by homosexuals and my mother alike. But did you know that she was also a total video game nerd?
Check this from her new video with Beyonce, “Telephone”:
ph33r my paint sk1llz.
Astute video game connoisseurs will recognize tiberium as the sinister evil-inducing credit-creating seriously creepy element that drives the Command and Conquer franchise. My friend Rich thinks it was probably inserted by a rogue nerd, which is possible despite the arty faux-Tarantino feel of the video. But I prefer to think Lady Gaga, the Chad Ochocinco of music, enjoys a chance to sit at home and get her h4x on – and wants us all to know it.
UPDATE: From fat friend Rich:
meta-cyanide is a Dune reference. it was totally a rogue geek. she’s our age and dune is before our time
Maybe – but he knows it, so why shouldn’t Lady Gaga? I get the sense she might have had a lot of time to watch TV in high school.
29 November 2009
That’s right. Buses. Buses for sale. All kinds of buses. On the internet. You can buy a bus on the internet.
Now I don’t know about you. But I find it next to impossible to see a billboard reading “Busesforsale.com” and not go to it. So I did. To spare you, a screenshot:
You can buy school buses. You can buy transit buses. You can even buy Van Hool buses. I don’t know what a Van Hool bus is – but why wouldn’t I buy one? Maybe I’ve always wanted a Van Hool bus. Maybe that’s what been missing from my life and I’ve never known it. Busesforsale.com sure thinks so.
Actually they have Van Hool buses available started at $89,900. Which is quite reasonable. For a Van Hool.
Of course there is a little gainsayer inside me. “Why would you need a Van Hool bus?” it asks. “Wouldn’t you want to see the bus first? Wouldn’t you want to buy it from someone with a face and a name?”
The answer, naturally, is no. I find dealing with people firsthand detestable. Not to mention that I cannot imagine a bus salesman having a particularly commendable deportment.
But of course now I wonder. What else can I buy online? Snakes?
Too easy. Reptilesncritters.com lets me buy snakes, lizards, frogs, salamanders, and spiders online. And I’m talking some obscure shit. Albino banana Cal king snake? Check. Giant desert hairy scorpions? Check. Bumblebee poison arrow frog? Oh yeah. And they have a a very helpful FAQ section explaining what happens if a shipment arrives “DOA” and why it’s “very difficult, if not impossible, to sex baby reptiles or amphibians.”
That got me thinking. I do so much of my banking online: could I do my sperm banking too?
Why yes. Yes we can.
The California Cryobank is one of several American institutions that allows you to order sperm online from the comfort of your very own home. They walk you through the entire process from account creation through the “insemination countdown,” which sounds enjoyable. You can profile and select donors recruited from graduates of some of the country’s top universities. You can even comparison shop!
Too institutionalized for you? There are of course freelancers aplenty on the World Wide Web. They even include actor, musician and raconteur Vincent Gallo, otherwise famous for being fellated on camera by Chloe Sevigny in a movie everybody but the French hated. For $1,000,000 US, Gallo will “will supply sperm for as many attempts as it takes to complete a successful fertilization and successful delivery,” though he seems keen on a few, shall we say, racial restrictions. Of course one cannot be totally sure this is a good faith offer (and it certainly would require some offline preparations), but nothing else about the man’s web presence appears to be funny and the Internet, as we all know, is a deadly serious enterprise.
There are restrictions, of course. In the UK rules were introduced in 2006 to forbid “fresh sperm” sales and require six months of freezing prior to sale, largely in response to the Parliamentary Under-Secretary of State being bored at work. In the Netherlands sperm donation is no longer anonymous. But this is no real obstacle to my impulse buying as America has not yet fallen to European commufascism.
Every four year-old who watches GI Joe, of course, knows that freedom is not just the ability to create life. It’s the ability to destroy it. The internet will show me the way here, too.
This is the website of the Iranian Defense Industries Organization. On this website you can register and place orders. What kind of orders? Oh. Well. How about a Taftan Mine Cleaner? But you’ll need to protect it. We have T-72S main battle tanks for that. You’re going to want to clear the area first, so a RAAD-2 155mm self-propelled artillery piece is in order, as are some nuclear-biological-chemical protective gear and a patrol boat for water transport. Missiles optional.
In case you’re wondering, they do accept Visa.
But what will I do with all of this? I’ll tell you. I have to because that’s how movies work.
I am going to splice the sperm of our nation’s best and brightest with the poison arrow frogs. I will create a super-race of poisonous, super-intelligent frog people capable of jumping twenty feet in the air, living off flies, doing long division and loving me just the way I am. Of course the government will try to stop me, but with the help of my super-soldiers/new best friends and the finest munitions Islamic theocracy has to offer, I will fight them off – and eventually, take over the world.
Then I’m going to buy a specially-modified Van Hool bus. My frogpeople and I will start a family band. We’ll do covers of Journey and Raffi’s greatest hits. Everyone will have to watch us. It’ll be awesome.
And I will live happily ever after. On the Internet.
3 November 2009
Commercial music really has been getting better lately.
The following is from a commercial from the “You” for HTC, a relatively under the radar producer of smartphones that’s a supporter of the Android Linux-based open source OS introduced as a counterpoint to the iPhone. It’s basically designed for people who, like me, perhaps like the capabilities of Apple’s products but can’t stand the culture that comes with it. (Which, of course, is centered generally on seizing control of the Earth’s governments in the name of sleek, postmodern information technology.)
HTC’s Dream was released last year, which I wish I’d known when I went to replace my phone in May. Motorola’s new Droid is the most prominent phone to pick up the Android software so far, but HTC, with the release of their Tattoo in mid-October, definitely has the classiest marketing.
And for good measure, the climax of action staple/criminal John McTiernan’s Thomas Crown Affair, in which Pierce Brosnan sneaks a stolen Monet back into the Met, featuring the original “Sinnerman.” You lose something not having seen the whole movie, but still:
If you don’t love this, you’re not American.
1 October 2009
The topic of his opprobrium this week were Apple users and their pathological, borderline sexual relationship with their computers, contrasted with the hateful battered-wife feeling anyone with Windows Vista (or XP or that giant chocolatey fudge dragon ME) knows all too well. While bemoaning the constant evangelism of Apple users he does point out that, for better or worse, they do honestly believe. Microsoft has been forced to resort to a series of propaganda videos in an attempt to promote their new OS, the cryptofascistically-named Windows 7.
(As an aside, maybe the problem is that Windows keeps trying all these crappy names. I don’t know who would want anything called XP, much less 7. I think they’re trying to subliminally appeal to Star Trek fans.)
Nerditry aside, upon reading Brooker I actually tried to watch the Windows 7 video he talked about. It depicts a group of people – a group Microsoft unsubtly suggests you should emulate – throwing a party. But it’s not just any house party. It’s a Windows 7 launch party. In it, explained the bespectacled hipster, you and your friends who have the opportunity to get together and try out all the new features of the Windows 7 OS in a safe, fun and it’s implied consequence-free environment. And they were here to help.
I got about a minute in. It was insufferable. It was awful. If the Apple people are the kids who always got the Tamogatchi or Airwalks or Nintendo DS before you did, then this Microsoft ad featured your parents, six months later, ostentatiously showing off whatever bauble it was that vaguely tingles your memory as having been cool back before it was so downmarket even old people could have them. But it was something else, too, somehow more sinister. Like your bachelor uncle has the Tamogatchi, but he has no idea what it is, he’s just using it to get close to you even though your parents privately warn you to stay away from him for reasons that were never clear until now.
I shut off the video. I think maybe I was sweating. But then my long-suppressed Nixonian tendencies creeped in. I’m no quitter, no matter how sadistic and reprobate the subject matter. I have a college education. I took a class in propaganda with a guy who kills people for the Shin Bet. I know who Derrida is. I can handle this.
Gettin’ this party started (I’m comin’ out)
Pink? Anybody? No? Okay.
I go first to Microsoft’s designated YouTube page, cleverly titled LaunchParties. True to form, it has nearly 120 videos, all of them titled in that spastic mashed-together way thatadmitsabsolutelynospacesorpunctuationwhichhasbeenMicrosoft’sspecialtyforsomanyyears. I’m surprised they let us have capital letters to differentiate the titles. This must be the kinder, gentler Microsoft.
The screen starts all blurry with the caption “Hosting Your Party” in big white letters, because all social interactions generally begin with both title card and a load time. (Mine do, anyway.) After a few seconds, it fades away, and we have a scene of four people in a kitchen.
“H-ey! Welcome to the party,” says a young blonde-haired woman holding a cutting board with what looks like cheese. Right off the bat, I’m not sure about this. Cheese Lady welcomes me kind of like you do when you’re expecting someone and you realize someone arrives but you’re turned around and you start to greet them as you’re turning to face them and only realize about halfway through that not only isn’t it who you expected but it’s also no one you’re happy to see. I, the viewer, am a door-to-door insurance salesman who happened to stumble into this party.
But that won’t stop the kinder, gentler Microsoft from shoe-horning me in anyway. Gee thanks.
After what looks like a moment’s hesitation Cheese Lady decides what-the-Hell-he’s-here-anyway and the camera pans out to show Cheese Lady’s friends: Old Lady, Hipster and Colorful-Polo-Wearing-Therefore-Both-Hip-and-Respectable-Black-Guy. For short I’ll call him Kanye.
Now instantly I’m put at ease by Kanye. These people have black friends, and as someone who has black friends himself this is crucial to me. I don’t want to be involved with some racist operating system. I really don’t want to be involved in an operating system that isn’t cool. So Kanye serves two crucial purposes. His is a comforting presence.
Cheese Lady tells me all about how they’re launching Windows 7 with house parties and how you can actually use Windows 7 to organize it. Metaphysically I have a problem with this, as I thought the purpose of a launch party was that you didn’t have something before and now you do. I think Ocean’s Thirteen dealt with this issue. Anyway I can organize it with some special software, upload pictures – “That’s his favorite,” she says, placing a suggestive hand on the Hipster’s arm. He kind of mumbles “That’s my favorite” and they all laugh at him, even the Old Lady, whose relationship to this group of “friends” is not yet clear.
“In a lot of ways, you’re just throwing a party with Windows 7 as an honored guest,” Kanye says. “Sounds easy – and it is!” But I thought this was supposed to tell me how to throw the party, Kanye. If it were so easy, I’d know how to throw a party without Windows 7. And I don’t. That’s why you’re here. Kanye’s getting on my nerves.
He redeems himself a moment later, though: maybe I want to know “how some hosts want their party to flow.” Oooh! Flow. That’s a cool word that’s generationally-appropriate. I’ve seen it on TV!
The camera is panning back and forth and zooming wildly at this point and I start to feel an epileptic seizure coming on. It’s not helped when Hipster says, “Now the first thing you want to do is install Windows 7,” prompting a series of ‘D’uhs’ from the other guests. Man, they really don’t like him. He’s so put down by this that he had to go back and redub his next couple lines afterwords to edit out the sobbing. Other guests appear unaffected.
Old Lady says we should choose the activities that are the most fun. You’d know, Grandma. She starts going on about some “host notes” that have bonus activities on them. “Right?” says Cheese Lady enthusiastically-sarcastically. You know? I didn’t know. I feel a little stupid. In fact I feel bad for Hipster now. I totally know how he feels.
Hipster’s party started out “like any good party,” with drinks and mingling. And Sir Harold Pinter showed up. I love his plays. I’ve never seen any of them, but I like the idea of his plays. I can’t believe Hipster got him to show up. “And you know what was great?” Cheese Lady says, plowing nervously through my digression about Sir Harold. “It was totally informal, like, everyone just kind of crowded around the computer in the kitchen.” Wow! Just like us now! I’m a part of something.
But Cheese Lady still seems to have had an excessively authoritarian style to her party. When she says she led everyone in an activity immediately after producing the computer (which she stole? How she got it isn’t clear), Old Lady is taken aback. “Oh well I let everyone fool around with a Snap for a little while.” “Me too!” Kanye shouts. What’s Snap? Is that a thing? This is getting tense and I feel stupid again. I’m getting the sneaking feeling these people aren’t going to buy any insurance.
Now there’s a cockfight over how many activities we did. “I did three!” Hipster shouts pompously. No wonder they don’t like you. “When you’re close to the end -” Cheese Lady begins, only for Grandma to but-in with “Wanting everybody to leave,” provoking general laughter and shushing now that she’s got drunk on her Long Island Iced Tea and telling our secrets. When you’re close to the end,” Cheese Lady grits her teeth, we should go to Help. It’s a great way to tie everything together. So is a call to the emergency services, which I am placing now.
“Make something you’re doing personal to someone at the Party,” Kanye enjoins me. “Like the way I made Chip’s files get transferred by Windows Easy Transfer.” Ooo there, Kanye. Too personal. Way over the line. “I also found it really helped to name the first person to be first with the hands-on activity, and have them pick the next person.” Oh, like you did with poor Chip? So we can all join in on the torture, and dip our hands in the blood? You’re sick. You’re a sick fuck.
Everybody thinks this is all sunshine and raindrops, though. “On a more serious note,” Grandma says with a mock frown – this Edward Albee horror show apparently not being serious enough – “Decide what activities you want to do a day or two in advance. Some activities require -”
She stumbles for a word here. Is she lying to me? What does she want? “Modest set-up.” Phew. Thought it was serious. “Like you need two computers to do the webchat,” says Kanye. Hahahaha say all. Obvi. “None of the set-up is too hard.”
“It helped me to remember that I’m not a salesman,” Kanye chips in. But I am a salesman. Northwestern Mutual Li – “And part of the fun of a launch party is seeing what you already know.” I know how to use Vista. I knew how to use XP. Why are you replacing them, again? For that matter why is no one answering my questions?
“Can you believe that they put the launch of Microsoft 7 in our hands?” Kanye asks. “They must be crazy!”
“Crazy to let you be involved, maybe,” Hipster shoots back. He gives an all-in-good-fun smile. But they’re totally gonna have it out in the parking lot afterwards.
“Well it does make sense,” Cheese Lady intervenes, trying to save her shitty party from the indignity of violence. “Windows 7 is all about the computer user!” I think they used to call us people.
“It ought to be a party! Have fun out there!” They’re letting me leave? Oh my God. I rush to grab my bag and brochures and bolt out the house as Hipster makes some trendy devil-symbol at me with his hands. Or maybe it’s “call me”. Does he want insurance after all? Was he hitting on me?
All right, fine. Let’s see how your parties actually went. Here Hipster is hosting in a party in his dingy little apartment with his hipster friends. All the men are in open-necked collared shirts; all the women are minorities. So far, so good.
He wants to show me something new about Internet Explorer 8. He turns to “Frank” – “Hi-iii,” he crows. He’s probably related to Cheese Lady. Or maybe he just wants the Cheetos coming around the room, which have been seized by the interracial girlfriend perched on his lap. This is called web slices. Now I can keep in touch of websites on my favorites all day long.
“Oh yeah,” Frank says like LL Cool J. I think the guy sitting in the chair backwards has a mustache. How passé.
Frank shops for t-shirts on “auction sites” a lot. Do they mean Ebay? It’s the only one I know. And then we cut to the screen – I’m sorry, I move over to see the screen better at the house party – and it has Ebay on it. Frank wants a Van Halen 1984 t-shirt. Wow. Van Halen. Maybe time to move on, man.
Frank decides not to buy it and delete the page from his “slice,” which looks exactly like a favorites page. (An AC/DC poster won out – a dubious choice, but whatever.) Now Hipster takes me to show me the “Accelerator,” which clicks directly from an address that doesn’t include a map to a mapping system, shaving literally seconds off of my web time and conveniently avoiding the use of certain heretical websites which I could have just put in my “slices” anyway. Phew.
“I want the rest of you to pick a word or phrase and accelerate it, leaving a new page for the next guest.” You can do the stupid map thing here, too, apparently. I’m nervously fingering the life insurance brochures in my pocket. This doesn’t feel right. The guy sitting behind Hipster just gasped with amazement at his electronic version of telephone. “Is that a hamster?” he asks. I’m outta here.
I try to watch a couple more but – oh, what the hay, I’m so excited to have my own house party I can’t stand it. Let’s go!
Me: Oh h-ey, welcome to my Microsoft Windows 7 launch party!
Doritos Girl: Thanks! I brought Doritos!
Me: Awesome! Everybody’s just inside!
We enter a room with Old Man from Bus Stop, My Mom, and Environmentally-Conscious Co-Workers and Drinking Buddies.
Me: Everybody, this is *voice trails off*
All: Oh hi!
Me: I’m super-excited to introduce Windows 7 to you. This is, like, totally a killer app.
All: Yeah! All right!
Drinking buddies high five.
Me: And what’s best about it is it’s designed for us computer users!
Co-Workers: It’s almost like we’re people again!
Me: That’s right.
Me: There’s something wrong.
My Mom: What, honey?
Me: There’s, uh… there’s no black people here.
My Mom: Well I didn’t know you knew any -
Me: That’s not the point, Mom! God, nobody wants to use some racist operating system.
Co-Workers: That’s right! Yeah!
Me: Look, I’ll just go online and e-mail some.
Old Man: Don’t use that!
Me: Why not?
Old Man: That’s the search engine whose name must not be spoken!
Me: Oh, right. I’ll use accelerator – what the fuck is that?
My Mom: Honey, language.
Me: My computer’s shaking.
Co-workers: Why, that’s Aero Shake, the feature that let’s you clear away all your clutter!
Drinking buddies: YEAH!
Me: You mean like minimizing?
Me: Well why won’t it stop?
Old man: Charlies! In the trees!
Me: That’s irrelevant. Stop it old man, or you won’t get your $20.
My Mom: Honey, respect your elders!
Me: The computer’s on fire!
My Mom: Why that’s Windows 7′s new Burn feature. It’s designed to detect awkward social situations and start a distraction!
Me: Somebody call the fire department!
Doritos Girl: My hair’s on fire!
Drinking buddies: YEAHHHHHH!!!!
(they urinate on the rapidly-advancing flames)
My Mom: Oh, I’ll get some paper towels.
Co-workers: You know, this is really irresponsible. Fires like this contribute to the greenhouse effect, which is killing our Earth.
Doritos Girl: AAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!
(she runs away, chased by Drinking Buddies and my Mom with a paper towel)
Me: But – my launch party!
Drinking buddies (outside): The roof! The roof! The roof is on fire!
Me: You guys better stay here. I’ll get help.
Two hours later.
Me: Whelp… Windows 7 burned my house down.
My Mom: Oh honey, I’m sorry.
Me: Too bad about my co-workers.
My Mom: Oh you’ll make new ones.
Me: Yeah. But so will Microsoft.