A Post on Matters Electronic

While I won’t be party to proclaiming death knells from mountaintops like the rest of the internet, I find the amount of PS3s scattered about my town pretty disconcerting. Maybe everyone’s just too po’ right now. I’d say it’s the severe lack of games worth playing, but Nintendo also only has a thimble full of purchase-worthy titles (though they do have more than Sony’s one).

I was particularly surprised at the massive stack of homeless Playstations at Best Buy. In my quest for the elusive Wii (fuck everyone ever), I spied a stack of Sony’s systems sitting in the middle of Best Buy’s main aisle. In the two double-stacked rows, I guess there were maybe 24 consoles total. They looked kind of sad, and if I were a richer and/or stupider man, I would have taken one home and made it some (joey) cocoa.

On both sides of the stack, a large printout was stickied for all to see; something of an apocalyptic foretelling to the tune of, “these are not the PS3s that come packaged with Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby.”

I think we’ve found the secret ingredient.

An Unu∫ually Brief Treati∫e Upon ∫elf-gifting

Time after the holidays tends to find me mulling over olde yarns of wisdom. These kernels that stick in the teeth of your brain are at worst unpickable, and at best unflickable. This year, the loot Saint Nick procured for me was fairly vast, though not infinitely so. Despite the enviable sheen of my spoils, I still felt something was lacking. In a bout of soul-searching, I turned to a reliable adage:

Though turn, turn ye do
Through pinning tyles of teeléd bone
Clamping pence-pure from hand to hip,
Thine weathered greave collape
In concert with cracked cobbletone
Exhaution bruheth cloer this grail acros your lip.

And so did I emerge from Best Buy victorious.