Tuesday, May 19, 2009

You’ll be pleased to know I haven’t eaten any other orphaned PBJs since last we spoke, nor have I embraced the freegan lifestyle and taken to gathering my edibles from forgotten drawers and alleyways at odd hours of the day. Nothing’s changed, really. I haven’t cooked anything worthwhile. The cupboard remains bare, and the pan I find myself using most–deadpan–continues to be my most valued kitchen implement. I did eat shit at the golf course on Sunday, lots of it, but that’s another conversation.

I want to put golf aside and talk instead about my recent media consumption. First of all, the Kindle DX tempted me briefly today, posing itself as the premier way to experience books, and I eagerly clicked on the product demo. Three minutes into the video, which was basically a montage of people lovingly cradling the device in all sorts of contrived situations, it dawned on me: I don’t even like books! Why would funneling them through cutting-edge Whispernet technology–oooooooo–make them any more appealing? At one point in the clip, incidentally the same point I pushed “stop,” some douchebag wandered across campus with the DX tucked under his arm. I vowed right then and there that, should I ever find myself doing the same thing, I’d mug myself immediately.

Television shows and video games continue to engross, of course. I’ve found that Hulu has become the first stop of the day, a kind of de facto launch pad to serialized delights. Sure, an episode of The Office may have a few commercial breaks, but even then I find myself interacting, eagerly voting spots up and down in some vain hope that I might dictate the flow of advertisements. Streaming media, however, still takes a back seat to physical media.

And on that front, I’ve got two titles for you: Dead Space and Deadwood. Morbid, perhaps, but also alliterative. The first is a piece of sci-fi gaming that’s heavy on dismemberment and freakish creatures. I usually don’t enjoy horror. This was riveting, though. Deadwood, like most of HBO’s offerings, is demanding, but unlike Carnivale, which ended up feeling like a marathon church service, this series comes fully equipped. Compelling pacing. Lyrical vulgarity. Interesting villains. I’m hooked, and having this content on tangible media simply seals the deal. The same show could be on Hulu, but it just seems more real when delivered via traditional channels. Call me old-fashioned, but I still can’t wrap my mind around a bunch of ones and zeroes whizzing through the Internets. Drop those ones and zeroes on a plastic platter, however, and I’m sold.