Daily Archives: July 8, 2001

It's pronounced, "Clee-ay"

Okay I went to the mall and found the new Sony PDA. I have never really had technolust this bad for anything ever before. I know I don’t need it. But I want it. There are reasons why I shouldn’t get it. One of them being that I don’t need it, and the other being that my current Palm IIIxe does just fine.

But damn, it’s sexy. I mean, look at it. LOOK AT IT! Higher resolution screen, it plays mp3s, movies, can run applications off of the memory card now, and has the simple Palm OS that does exactly what I need it to do.

It won’t make my life better. It won’t shorten my commute. It doesn’t do windows. It will not get me women. It is, put quite simply, a gadget, a mere toy that replicates a function of another toy that I already own and yet I want it. Argh.

Need, not want. Need, not want. Need, not want. Want is the wallet killer. Want is the little death that comes to all paychecks.

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Life Advanced

Well, I went to the mall and saw this:

(game boy ad: Life Advanced

Interesting, is it not? Advertising never ceases to amaze me. Yes, I own one, but it’s certainly not the second coming. I mean, this sign is at least, twenty feet tall. And what’s this bit about “life” being advanced? Please. I picked up Dodge Ball Advance today, and it’s just like the NES version, but better graphics. And it seems a bit slower, but it is a lot of fun.

And yes, I carry a digital camera around (one of three) wherever I go. They’re all cheap and disposable, and sub megapixel. Which is fine for my purposes. I’m not printing out any of these things, just taking memories composed of digital bits and reflected light.

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Cats & Dogs

Okay, I went and watched Cats & Dogs last night. Yes, cute movie, very cute. Not Blade Runner or even Casablanca in the least, but it did have a storyline (albeit a nonsensical plothole ridden for god’s sake it’s based on talking animals storyline) that remained consistent throughout the movie. Unlike a certain other movie about Synthetic Reasoning.

Also, went out to a diner last night where I would guess that the waitress paid us the amount of attention that a hyena gives flies on a rotting corpse. That is to say, the amount of attention given to four young lads who ordered only dessert. Four young lads who would have tipped handsomely, had she actually paid us any fucking attention. Normally, this place is pretty good, but I guess she was too busy to actually ask us how we were doing in the twenty minutes we were waiting for three milkshakes and an apple pie a la mode. No prepared food, just drinks and pie with ice cream slapped on it.

Ah, let’s see, things to do today. Find DDR for my brother and myself.