"Sorry but prayers
and giving your kids hugs fix nothing; only having the balls to stand up to our
insane selfish gun culture will."
--
Bill Maher, author, philosopher... believes a hammer can think
*****
Remember when the Super
Nintendo came out? It was incredible. I remember standing with my nose inches from
the screen (my nose allowed for mere inches back then) while my brothers and I
marveled at how round Mario’s hands were.
“Would ya just look at em?! They aren’t square
anymore, they’re round! ROUND HANDS!" It was a
16-bit, Japanese, Christmas miracle.Remember when Mortal Kombat came out? I sure do. I remember riding my bike to Ferron Funtime Video to drop a cool $2 so I could spend 48 hours of “me time” making Sub-Zero remove Kano’s head (along with some central nervous system). But it wasn’t always such fun.
 |
I remember where I was standing in the Sinclair gas station in Orangeville when I first saw this image. Nintendo would never be the same again.
|
Remember when the game would cheat? Oh boy I do. I hated that! It didn’t matter how fast my reflexes were (and I remember them being cat-like), the computer could somehow always make Goro (who had four arms, FOUR ARMS) pummel the life out of my character until I got to hear Shang Tsung say, “Finish Him!” (or something) and then he’d say, “You Lose!” Freakin’ game cheats right?! Cause I was doing everything exactly right until the game cheated.
Well, it wasn’t always the game’s fault. Sometimes it was the paddle. Mario’s hands may have been (super) round but boy did those paddles need some work. And when the paddle didn’t work properly, it was important to try and fix it. My brothers and I became experts at blaming and fixing paddles. We must have fixed a handful of those paddles just by slamming them against the wall or the television screen until they fell apart (shoddy Japanese craftsmanship probably). Yep, faulty paddles. It couldn't have been our timing. No our timing was perfect, and we always knew which combination of buttons to push. If we failed to save some princess or another, and it wasn’t because the game (a computer) cheated, it was definitely the defective paddles.
 |
Just look at it. Sitting there. It even looks defective. No not defective, evil. Doesn't it look like it's planning on helping you get all the way to Ganondorf only to stab you in the back by making you miss your shots and run out of silver arrows? Yeah, I see it too. I totally see it.
|
These are some of the mental gymnastics a highly-emotional tween is capable of when he wants to protect himself from seeing his own inadequacies. Remarkable isn’t it? Well it’s a good thing we grow up and stop blaming inanimate objects for our failures. (Look at Bill's tweet again.) Well, some of us have grown up.
Our kind friend Bill (America's sweetheart) hasn't grown out of the habit of blaming objects for human frailties or behavior. After this most recent human tragedy, Bill made sure – within hours – to shift the blame to inanimate objects (and lovingly remind us how stupid it is to pray/meditate and show love to our kids... boy do we look like idiots).
But Bill is no idiot. You see, Bill is an intellectual. He doesn’t like the idea that people pray to some religulous God. He’s too smart for that.
Instead, Bill believes that objects (like Nintendo paddles, cars, or toasters) have free will. He thinks that objects can make plans and then carry them out. Cause that’s what makes sense to Bill. Hey, when I was ten and I failed at Nintendo, I knew who/what to blame. And when Bill hears about people failing at life and committing unthinkable acts of horror, he isn't fooled either, he knows where to find the real culprits: not the people, but the things they use. Bill is no idiot, oh goodness no, he's an intellectual.
 |
"Don't blame me. I'm just a person. I don't think and make choices like some common... um... like a blanket or something."
|
My thirty minutes are spent, more to come…
