The Wonder of Teh Internets

Today's Martin Luther King day down in the states and as such they're showing all sorts of black and white videos of protests and rallies.  To clarify, the videos were in black and white as were the people.  While I was watching these b&w videos I started to thing about just how far we've come.  Not in a civil rights sense or how far we've come as a society or any crap like that, no, I was thinking about how far we've come with technology.

Back in the day I had a 14.4k modem that I would use to login to BBS's.  For those that don't know, BBS's were the precursor to websites.  You had to know their phone number, dial in with your modem, and pray to God that nobody called your house while you were downloading Tie Fighter or Doom 2.  The first time I went on teh internets was in 1995 when I convinced my parents to purchase a CD at the CNE that came with 3 months of internet access for $20.  Best decision of my life.  Now, 13 years later, I spend roughly 8 hours a day on teh internets, sometimes more.  When I try to think back to life before teh internets it's quite hard to do.

Remember when the Yellow Pages was the tome of knowledge that you routinely turned to for knowledge?  When you had to stop by CAA to buy maps that would tell you how to get to Florida, or when you would plunk $0.25 into a video game at the local donut shop/pizza parlour to get your game on?  (GAME ON!!... sorry).

Now, I've got a Mac and a PS3 that talk to each other when I'm not home.  It's mental.  I can turn on the PS3 and look at any of the photos or videos on the computer or listen to any songs that are on the hard drive of the computer.  If I choose to allow others to view the splendor of my vacation photos, I click on the photo album on the computer, select the web layout I want, and presto, it's on teh internets.  It's crazy.  I'm surfing the internet using the ol' PS3 sixaxis controller, and it's 100x faster than when I would surfer from my PC in the 90's!  Even without a keyboard!

iPhones and Blackberry's are getting to the point where you don't really need a laptop anymore, thus giving us unlimited access to nearly unlimited information.  It really is mental.

I'm not going anywhere with this, it's just a little f*%ked up when you think about it isn't it?  Technology is actually more awesome now than I ever thought it would be in my lifetime.  That said, I do have a pretty shitty imagination.  

What's next?  I really don't know.  Could you please tell me?  Seriously, maybe in the Comments section below this article you could let me know where you see this whole 'technology' thing going.  Are we going to revert back to the point where lo-tech becomes cool?  I hope so, because I've been playing cup and ball like a muthafucka and when it comes back I'm gonna get so endorsed it will be sick.  

TMTOYH

TMTOYH, or Too Much Time On Your Hands, is a global phenomenon that seems to manifest itself primarily in young school-age males and older living-at-home-when-it's-no-longer-socially-acceptable males.  Basically it affects the socially retarded.  And yes, that will be my last acronym/title for a while (sorry TCBY, my rave of your delicious treats will have to wait).

I hear what you're saying - "but Dave, what the F*%k are you even talking about, can we have some motherf*%king examples?".  First off, settle down, you don't have to swear, and two, I've got your examples right here biatch.

Behold, example number A - a trailer to a movie that doesn't exist.

I can only image the number of dateless nights it must have taken to put this trailer together.  Absolutely amazing (waste of time).  In all fairness though, it is definitely worth a watch.  This dude cgi'd Thundercats paint, hair cuts, and costumes onto actors in other films.  Pretty mind-blowing stuff.

Exhibit L:

Some nerd built a millennium falcon completely out of lego.  And yes, it is to scale.  Lego is cool and all, but c'mon, somebody has tmtoyh - big time.   Oh, and by "Lego is cool and all", I mean Lego is cool and all, when you're 8.

And finally, behind door number Dave, we have this pathetic waste of time:

The only thing more pathetic than wasting your time building something lame and mildly entertaining (vis a vis the examples above), is wasting your time building some less than mildly entertaining.  At least the other examples were original and showed some sort of initiative, this dude just picked up on a trend that was cool 4 years ago, popular 2 years ago, and completely lame now.  What a wanker.  Whatever you do, don't give this guy any candy.  Or Beer.

Hey, that blog looks kinda like... awww crap, what a crappy time for my backspace key to stop working...

PLEASE DISREGARD THAT LAST EXAMPLE.  Blogging is cool and people still do it, so there...  whew, good recovery Dave.  You deserve a beer.  And some candy.

TMI

What's TMI?  It's an acronym, standing for too much information.  It's been far too long since my last post, as I haven't really had much to say as of late, so I decided to pour myself a beer, a tall glass of scotch, and a tumbler of port and talk about whatever was on my mind as the room started to spin.  And here's something that's been bothering me for some time - hearing TMI from those around me.

Over the past year this has happened to me on a few occasions and it's really getting me to question modern taboos.  To put this in context for you, let me lay out some of the things that have been shared with me over the past year:

1.  The consistency of a co-workers bowel movements.  I don't care if you've got a clever euphemism for it (hard-boiled eggs vs. uncooked eggs with bits of shell in them) - I don't freaking care.

2.  Your preferred porn niche.  As far as I'm concerned, if you're related to  me or if you ever want me to look you in the eye again, the only porn you enjoy is watching that guy with the beard on the discovery channel.   Thanks to the overly loose lips of those around me, I now know that my friends and relatives enjoy a wide variety of pornographic styles - from barely legal teens, to asians, to girls with large breasts, to those videos where you find out that the chick was a dude all along - nobody should be cursed with that information.  I don't tell you that I like to squeeze into a pair of Superman underpants, tie a towel around my neck, and run around the house screaming "Come and get me Lex Luther, Superslut is ready!!" out of respect for our friendship, and I would expect the same courtesy from you.

3.  How much money you make.  I don't care, and no, just because you told me yours doesn't mean I'm going to tell you mine.  

4.  Who you would leave your wife for.  The only exception to this is if the answer is a celebrity that you will never in your life meet and that you would have zero chance of getting with.  That's fine, we all do a bit of that, but I don't want to hear about the hot chick at your work that you know is a superfreak because of the way that she looks at you or what it is that you want to do on her glasses.  That is something I don't need to hear.

5.  How many times you've wanked it today.  Either you're trying to impress me or make me jealous, either way I'm not interested (3 times?  What is this, amateur hour?).

So what's wrong with us?  Of course by us I mean society and not me and you, I'm fine - you're the one with problems.  Go back just 80 years, which is really no time at all in terms of societal evolution, and you'll find that people didn't talk about this stuff back then.  What happened?!? 

I'll tell you what happened - we became weak little wimpy pansies that felt the need to share every little thought in our demented little minds.  I blame psychiatrists, psychologists, talk show hosts, your parents, and everybody else that encouraged you to share your thoughts.On top of that, I blame everybody that told you that it was okay to cry, that it's healthy to 'get things off your chest', and everybody that thinks that they need to be everybody's friend.  As a society we're becoming pathetically weak little blabbermouths that can't keep our feelings to ourselves and I'm sick of it.  I hate to sound sexist, but we need to buck up and stop acting like little girls.   

And I'm not just talking about the dudes out there, I'm talking about the women too.  When did it become acceptable to talk about the symptoms you are experiencing due to 'the change' at an executive team meeting?  Or how many pads you've had to replace while I'm trying to spread raspberry jam on my morning slice of toast?  Two words, guh-ross.

So please.  Pretty, pretty, please.  Don't feel the need to share anything with me.  And not to be too controlling, but please don't share anything with other people when I'm within earshot.  It doesn't matter that you're not talking to me, you're talking, I'm hearing it, and I don't want to, so respect that.

Okay, that's all for now, glad I got this off my chest.  Shit.  Disregard that last part would ya?

Oh ya, and I promise to post more frequently over the next few weeks... sorry about that.

Edit - Thanks to Chris N. for providing this incredibly relevant bit from Geekologie.com - a toilet seat that will let you figure out the weight of your dumps.  Click the image for the article.