Bill Gates has a pair…

… of testicles. At least, that’s what the rumors imply.

Note: I get pretty much all of my gaming/tech news from the wonderful folks at www.evilavatar.com.

Engadget.com reported some surprising rumors today about Microsoft’s entry in the portable media market. Only the tenderest of quotes follow:

To attract current iPod users Microsoft is going to let you download for free any songs you’ve already bought from the iTunes Music Store. They’ll actually scan iTunes for purchased tracks and then automatically add those to your account. Microsoft will still have to pay the rights-holders for the songs, but they believe it’ll be worth it to acquire converts to their new player.

There it is: proof that Bill’s gonads exist. They’re going to buy your fucking music for you. Get a Microsoft media player, get your whole iTunes collection with it. Forget the royalties they’ll have to pay, or the fact that they probably won’t make money from song sales to begin with. Daring, dangly move, Bill.

So what does this mean to you, the consumer?
1. Microsoft has too much god damn money
2. They’re looking to beat Apple with better features and customer rewards
3. If you have tons of iTunes music, buy one of Microsoft’s devices

Think about it – if you bought 500 songs through iTunes, Microsoft is willing to swallow that cost. Even if you don’t have a great need for a new portable media device, buy it for your girlfriend or pool boy or inside man at the FBI. They’ll love you for the gift and admire your excellent taste in music.

There’s no mention of it, but if Microsoft is willing to buy your music, they may be willing to buy your videos, too.

Remember that competition is good in any business. Let Gates and Jobs battle it out Godzilla-style. They’ll one-up each other’s accomplishments and features until there’s two super bad ass music services. And it’s all thanks to Bill’s testosterone drones.

So rock on, dear readers. Rock all night long on Bill’s dime. You’ve earned it.

The greatest video ever made

On this day, the 4th of July, all Americans should be watching this video on a permanent loop. Gather round and learn about our first president, the beloved George Washington.

He’ll save children, but not the British children.

On a related note, the genius behind the George Washington video also created an alternate soundtrack to Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.  I loathe hyperbole, though it is unavoidable here: this is the funniest thing I have ever heard.

Thank you, Brad Neely. You are a god in a world full of second-rate comedy.

PlayStation 3: The Brain Atrophy, Part 1

By way of Next Generation, Sony’s CEO Howard Stringer tells us like it is. See, the PlayStation 3 is worth the $600 price tag. Stay with me here. For $600 US dollars, you’re paying for potential.

The article is short, but for those too lazy to click the link, here’s a couple of moist bits:

“The price of the PS3 is high, but you’re paying for potential… Do you go for a cheaper transitional [product],” Stringer inquired (ie, the premium Xbox 360 for $400 or the Wii at $250 or less), “Or do you take a chance on future-proof, higher technology which will keep you going for many, many years?”

Let’s tear this beautiful fantasy apart one yen-covered brick at a time. Apparently, the PS3 is full of potential, like a nubile 18-year-old sorority girl ready to burst into womanhood and sexual exploration. It’s the things the PS3 might do that should excite you. It’s the dream of an ubiquitous development platform, complete publisher support and a force-fed high-definition movie platform that nobody wants. It’s that sort-of-cute girl you remember from math class. She’s a 5 now, but next year … when she blossoms …

In all likelihood, she’ll end up looking like every other overweight middle-aged housewife. She had potential, sure, but potential won’t get you far. I had the potential to be the first astronaut pirate. I ended up a self-centered asshole who takes pot shots at millionaire CEOs from the safety of my internet connection.

I’d like the PlayStation 3 to succeed. I hope they come through with all the promises of incredible graphics, stable online play, movies that age like wine and the best developer support. It’s an incredible vision.

But I heard all that shit before. I heard it before October 26, 2000 when the PlayStation 2 launched. I heard it when the PlayStation Portable was in development. I saw the EyeToy ads, the Final Fantasy commercials, the articles with Ken Kutaragi slinging hyperbole and pure speculation as if it was fact. It’s the same as that last years of my childhood when my mom tried to convince me Santa Clause was still real.

And future-proof? Are you kidding me? The comment is beyond ridicule. It’s asserting a state that cannot exist in the world of electronics. Where’s your PlayStation 1? How about your Super Nintendo? I hear the Bee Gees have a great new album out – grab your 8-track player.

I want a piece of this pie. Such blatant disregard for reason allowed Howie to rise to the rank of Chief Executive Officer at one of the largest electronics manufacturers in the world. He’s my idol, my mentor. So here we go.

I’ve got a business proposition. Listen up, gather close. I’m going to let you in on the ground floor, primo seats to this rock concert of fiscal success.

It’s not a piece of paper. That’s like saying an electric guitar and a pound of marijuana were Jimi Hendrix’s hobbies. It’s more than a piece of paper. It has potential. This paper could accommodate:

• a priceless work of art
• blueprints for a time machine
• phone numbers of celebrities

Let your imagination do the rest. Some may say there are comparable products out there, even identical pieces of paper that can perform the same functions. But I assure you, this is the most advanced piece of paper ever created. It will provide you many years of paper-related service.

Sony, please stop with the marketing dreck. No one is falling for it. Give us facts, show us screenshots, let us play your console, and I’m sure we’ll love it. You’ve made two successful consoles with many great games. Be honest, be optimistic, be as excited as we are. But don’t be lying pricks.

An unbiased review of Adam Sandler’s new turd “Click”

How many more Adam Sandler movies must we suffer through?  Can't we stop him somehow?  We're a democracy, dammit.  Let's call an emergency session of Congress and get some laws passed.  Call your local representatives.

I'm sure Adam Sandler is a great guy when he's off the set of his latest cliche and emulatory goofy-guy-with-a-good-heart comedy.  He's a millionaire and an alumni from Saturday Night Live's better days, so he's probably got a lot of friends who will stick around as long as he's B-list or better.  But his shtick is wearing thin.  His movies are either: crappy remakes, comedies based on a sport, or a gimmick-reliant black hole of laughs.  "Click" falls into the third category.

Hopefully you haven't seen the previews.  I have, because I have too much free time and my landlord pays for my cable TV.  Let me run down the plot for you.  As an interactive bonus, narrate this in your mind with that deep-voiced movie announcer who does every preview.

"Every once in a while, a movie comes along that changes everything.  It shatters preconceptions, exceeds box-office estimates and mates with the sweaty concubine of hilarity.  This summer … stick your tongue out … and C-LICK the bottom of the barrel!

Adam Sandler in the role he was born to play: Adam Sandler.  He had a mediocre life.  But one day, everything … Clicked.

Time is flying by.  Oh, shit!  It was comical at first, watching the bouncing, voluptuous breasts of a jogger in slow-motion, muting a conversation or increasing the bass channel for a powerful fart.  But now it's out of control.  His young daughter is suddenly a teenager.  His wife is old.  Probably a friend died in the interim. 

The once jocular situation has become serious.  The nature of time and its importance and preciousness becomes glaringly apparent.  He regrets messing with the delicate balance and pines for the moments he lost.  Now he must fix the situation, maybe by finding a secret button on the back of the control, or maybe it gets hit by lightning or some shit.  You're too stupid to remember this preview anyway, so we don't mind spoiling the movie for you.

Prepare to get …

… CLICKED!"

It's going to be the same one-liners, slapstick crotch shots and clumsy accidents that we saw in the rest of his movies, only in slow-motion.  And the audiences are going to eat it up.

I haven't seen the movie.  I'm not going to.  And if nobody else does, maybe he'll go away.  Or get accidentally deleted by a magical Tivo remote. 

That sounds like an awesome plot for a movie.

“I’m important!”

The next few years should be as fun as they are overwhelming.  I'm on the verge of an honest-to-god career.  I'll own my apartment soon.  My friends are getting married or divorced.  My siblings are graduating from school, becoming adults. 

It's all frightening.  And I do not enjoy change.

I don't really know what to post here.  I don't know why I have this blog.  And who the fuck are you?  How did you find me here?  Are you the one going through my garbage can at night?

An introductory note: I'm a mid-twenties male living in Utah.  I work as a PHP/MySQL Programmer and Systems Administrator for a small company.  I enjoy my job.  When I'm not coding, I'm reading, playing videogames, working with computers, watching TV or surfing the web.  I'm incurably boring and dangerously handsome.  If you stick around, maybe I'll tell a little more about myself.  But don't get all weird and clingy.

You might be asking yourself where I got this site's name.  It's from Tool's song Stinkfist:

"Now how can this mean anything to me
If I really don't feel anything at all?
I'll keep digging
Til I feel something"

"Curiouser and curioser!" cried Alice.

Hi there

I took the plunge and signed up for a blog.  I don't expect anybody to read it.  It's my virtual outhouse, my digital slop bucket.  I'm going to squat over this page and do a bit of housecleaning.

I hope you get my point.  This is an exercise in discipline and unchecked creativity.  I want this to stimulate my brain into the writing mode I used to enjoy.

 Leave a comment, or don't.