Pope Benedict has gone to the moon to be Space Pope Emeritus. I think the final straw for him was agressive tweet wars with 14 year olds. Here, for no real reason, his first tweet and his final tweet.
Dear friends, I am pleased to get in touch with you through Twitter. Thank you for your generous response. I bless all of you from my heart.
Thank you for your love and support. May you always experience the joy that comes from putting Christ at the centre of your lives.
I can only imagine the horrors that occured between those two reassuring word pillows.
Walden: The Video Game. Living deliberatelly virtually – feeling the fan blow stale air around your room as you hunch before glowing screen, back aching, eyes straining, soul dying. It’s exactly what Thoreau was talking about. What could be better to teach children, who are already not getting enough contact with the terrifying reality of nature, than condensing the meaning of Walden and then coding it into a virtual world so that they can enjoy it from the safety of their squalid condominiums? Everything could be better than that. Beating them to death with a paperback copy of the book would be better than that.
“When I wrote the following pages, or rather the bulk of them, I lived with my parents, in their basement, a mile from the nearest Dave and Busters, in a house which I did not own, on the shore of my own self-loathing, and earned my living by the answering online questionnaires.”
It would be a reasonable thing to assume that the above, a butchering of the opening sentence of Walden; or, Life in the Woods, would have been the real opening sentence if Mr. Thoreau had, instead of living in the, admittedly faux, wilderness for a year, had remained indoors, in an energy saving light bulb lit room, playing this video game.
How is it possible to approach the notion of living deliberately that Thoreau espoused by playing a video game? My short answer is that it’s not.
It is however hilarious bullshit, pleasure excuse my earthy language, and brings to mind this wonderful comic below, written by the inestimable Grant Snider:
Living deliberately is difficult and worthwhile. Yet even as we attempt to embrace nature we crush it. Even as we try and escape and control nature we lose our essential selves. The Slow Suicide of the Human Race. Happy days, folks!
He wakes up. He tastes wine in his mouth. He is late. He runs but he can’t run far or fast because he has a bag. He spends all day at work drawing a picture of a lorax and being satirical. Then he drinks some more wine. He plays some Mario Galaxy 2. It is an elegant game. He is not an elegant man. He sends an email even though he shouldn’t and he doesn’t expect a reply. He goes to sleep and wakes up to Lawrence O’Donnell at 1am.
He wakes up. His alarm from the week is still on and it wakes him up on Sunday and he cannot get back to sleep and he is annoyed at this. He watches some television and then plays some board games and then goes out for a walk and it is cold but fresh and refreshing then he learns that the woman he loves was accidentally texted by the woman he doesn’t love and then there was an exchange of words and this happened a few weeks before the Trip so he starts to whirr and click and think maybe that made the whole trip a failure, maybe it was these unknown texts but he knows that it is not but he wants to rationalise his madness and hope for his fantasies and live in a Reality that he lost last year with his cowardice and the choices he made to have to pick between selfishness and selflessness and he picked the latter and he goes to bed thinking that he hated that he had to make that choice.