The Great Geek Manual

Why has laser tag never risen to become a professional sport? That’s a sport I could watch. Who wouldn’t?! It would beat the hell out of football.

You know those lines they chroma key onto the football field to explain the progress of the game? Line of scrimmage or whatever? How long do you think it’s going to be before some industrious television network starts projecting little video advertisements onto the field during the game?

I rented Knowing last night. Damn Zardoz! I’ll never be able to hear Beethoven’s 7th Symphony without thinking about that retarded movie again.

According to my parent, the best part of old age is that, never being able to remember if you’ve seen something before, everything on television is new.

I came across this rant surfing Tumblr:

“Dammit why are girls so sneaky? They’re like ninjas. SEXY ninjas.”
Source: DelaCroix

I knew the economy was bad, but I guess I didn’t know how bad until the other day. I got a flier from the local community eduction center. On the cover, the brochure had a few examples of the art courses on offer in the upcoming semester: Glass Fusing, Mosaics, Silver, Clay jewelry, Swedish, Weaving, Culinary Courses, Photoshop Elements, and… the Art of Down Sizing.

Shit. This is going to be a bumpy ride.

So, I was flipping through the channels looking for something to watch last night and the best thing on was The Matrix Reloaded. (I know, it’s a sad commentary on cable programming.) Only, when I turn to it, I realize that the movie in on WZPX, the local ion affiliate, which is best known for constant Reba re-runs and the occasional Lonesome Dove marathon.

It was like realizing that I’d just stopped on the Lifetime channel.

So, I start flipping again. I find Stargate. Only, it’s on AMC!

Completely depressed, I turn to the On Demand menu for my nightly SFF fix. Know what’s on? Ads for the teenie-bopper-pleasing Twilight!

Then it hits me. Oh my God, I’m getting old.

Depressed and rejected by my own television, I retire to my bookshelves for the night with a quarter of a chocolate cake and some vintage Bradbury to reinvigorate my inner child.