Tuesday, 24 June 2008
(The Random Review) Claire Fitzgerald is back ... with ... something ... um.
~
The Random Review, FAQ
Q. WTF??
A. Ah, I'm so very glad you asked! The purpose of Random Reviewing is to broaden the horizons of the average internet rant, muse and burble. Regrettably, most people seem to review only things they happen to be interested in. I think this leads to a distressing lack of pointlessness, and also fails adequately to reflect the reality of cultural life in a mass-consumer age. Let us face it: any given 99.5% of the population couldn't give a monkey's about 99.5% of stuff.
Q. I have no idea what's going on. What's going on?
A. What's going on is that I have acquired a little beeper device like a pager that goes off at random. They are designed for psychology experiments, like the experiment to find out how annoying it is to carry round a little random beeper device all day. (Answer, moderately, rising to very if you were planning on spending all day in bed sleeping and watching X-Files.) Apparently, most phones can also be programmed to emit random beeps, so you can play too. I, however, just like playing with the beeper. I pretty much stole it out of a bin, and now I have to think of something to do with it.
Q. So what, exactly are you planning to do with this...beeper?
A. I am going to use it to review things at random. Basically, when the beeper goes off, I shall review the last bit of culture I experienced, even if I originally experienced it as background blah that just bounced off the surface of my brain making no impact whatsoever. The purpose of this experiment is to find out whether the 99.5% of stuff that automatically gets flushed straight down my mental waste disposal pipe is actually as crap as I think it is.
Q. Can I play too?
A. Yes, of course! The more the merrier! But you have to get your own damn beeper.
Random Review, Edition One
Time: 16:12, Monday June 23rd
Location: The Pub
Subject: Sexual Healing, by Marvin Gaye
According to VH1, this song is the second smoothest groove of all time. Leaving aside the inevitable yet hilarious observation about competitive intimate waxing (which would be childish), I can't say I agree. It's a very nice tune and all that. But have you listened to the lyrics? Because they scare the living hell out of me. Obviously anything that starts with the line "wake up" does that to me. But if your opening is "wake up wake up wakeupwakeup!" then the next line had damn well better be "the whole F***ING STREET is on F***ing FIRE!" or I, and most of the women I know, are not going to give you any sexual healing at all. Unless by "healing" you mean "cursing". And by "sexual", you mean "vicious". Also not remotely smooth, and a million miles from groovy, is the phrase "I got sick this morning". Marvin, Marvin, Marvin, let me tell you, only two kinds of woman are not going to get up and leave at that point. The first is six years old, and as long as you are also six years old, and can follow it up with "yeah, and it was green! And it had all carrots in it and I hadn't even eaten carrots! And some of it came out of my nose!" then she might just be impressed. The other kind has Munchausen's Syndrome by Proxy. I'm guessing that you don't want to go down either of those roads. So just...just go back to sleep, Marvin, okay?
Time: 12:56, Tuesday June 24th
Location: Home
Subject: Chuzzle
Now, as gaming sensations go, I'm not really all that worked up about Chuzzle. It doesn't have a storyline, let alone a developmental narrative arc that confronts the gamer with the moral and practical consequences of all her actions, or immerse us in an exquisitely detailed nonlinear virtual world, as favoured by some of my fellow ferrets. No. You have to match up little coloured monsters. The monsters aren't very sophisticated. They're like those little promotional sticky-footed funbugs you get with ribbons coming out of their arse, to advertise Family Fun Days and discount car dealerships and sales at the carpet warehouse. They're cute. They squeak. When you've matched them, they go into a little bottle and squeak some more. That's about it.
The question which Chuzzle does pose - and it's a profound one - is more of a psychological conundrum. It is: why, when the sun is shining and the birds are singing and I have about ten zillion things to do, have I been matching rows of coloured monsters for two and a half hours? Because it's the most addictive thing in the universe, that's why. It's like crack cocaine flavoured Pringles. It's like smoking gummi bears. Seriously kids, say no to Chuzzle.
Q. WTF??
A. Ah, I'm so very glad you asked! The purpose of Random Reviewing is to broaden the horizons of the average internet rant, muse and burble. Regrettably, most people seem to review only things they happen to be interested in. I think this leads to a distressing lack of pointlessness, and also fails adequately to reflect the reality of cultural life in a mass-consumer age. Let us face it: any given 99.5% of the population couldn't give a monkey's about 99.5% of stuff.
Q. I have no idea what's going on. What's going on?
A. What's going on is that I have acquired a little beeper device like a pager that goes off at random. They are designed for psychology experiments, like the experiment to find out how annoying it is to carry round a little random beeper device all day. (Answer, moderately, rising to very if you were planning on spending all day in bed sleeping and watching X-Files.) Apparently, most phones can also be programmed to emit random beeps, so you can play too. I, however, just like playing with the beeper. I pretty much stole it out of a bin, and now I have to think of something to do with it.
Q. So what, exactly are you planning to do with this...beeper?
A. I am going to use it to review things at random. Basically, when the beeper goes off, I shall review the last bit of culture I experienced, even if I originally experienced it as background blah that just bounced off the surface of my brain making no impact whatsoever. The purpose of this experiment is to find out whether the 99.5% of stuff that automatically gets flushed straight down my mental waste disposal pipe is actually as crap as I think it is.
Q. Can I play too?
A. Yes, of course! The more the merrier! But you have to get your own damn beeper.
Random Review, Edition One
Time: 16:12, Monday June 23rd
Location: The Pub
Subject: Sexual Healing, by Marvin Gaye
According to VH1, this song is the second smoothest groove of all time. Leaving aside the inevitable yet hilarious observation about competitive intimate waxing (which would be childish), I can't say I agree. It's a very nice tune and all that. But have you listened to the lyrics? Because they scare the living hell out of me. Obviously anything that starts with the line "wake up" does that to me. But if your opening is "wake up wake up wakeupwakeup!" then the next line had damn well better be "the whole F***ING STREET is on F***ing FIRE!" or I, and most of the women I know, are not going to give you any sexual healing at all. Unless by "healing" you mean "cursing". And by "sexual", you mean "vicious". Also not remotely smooth, and a million miles from groovy, is the phrase "I got sick this morning". Marvin, Marvin, Marvin, let me tell you, only two kinds of woman are not going to get up and leave at that point. The first is six years old, and as long as you are also six years old, and can follow it up with "yeah, and it was green! And it had all carrots in it and I hadn't even eaten carrots! And some of it came out of my nose!" then she might just be impressed. The other kind has Munchausen's Syndrome by Proxy. I'm guessing that you don't want to go down either of those roads. So just...just go back to sleep, Marvin, okay?
Time: 12:56, Tuesday June 24th
Location: Home
Subject: Chuzzle
Now, as gaming sensations go, I'm not really all that worked up about Chuzzle. It doesn't have a storyline, let alone a developmental narrative arc that confronts the gamer with the moral and practical consequences of all her actions, or immerse us in an exquisitely detailed nonlinear virtual world, as favoured by some of my fellow ferrets. No. You have to match up little coloured monsters. The monsters aren't very sophisticated. They're like those little promotional sticky-footed funbugs you get with ribbons coming out of their arse, to advertise Family Fun Days and discount car dealerships and sales at the carpet warehouse. They're cute. They squeak. When you've matched them, they go into a little bottle and squeak some more. That's about it.
The question which Chuzzle does pose - and it's a profound one - is more of a psychological conundrum. It is: why, when the sun is shining and the birds are singing and I have about ten zillion things to do, have I been matching rows of coloured monsters for two and a half hours? Because it's the most addictive thing in the universe, that's why. It's like crack cocaine flavoured Pringles. It's like smoking gummi bears. Seriously kids, say no to Chuzzle.
~
Comments
I'll play - I'll review the next cultural artefact in my vicinity when my phone makes a noise.
at 16:43 on 2008-06-24 by Kyra Smith
Nifty! I may well be too lazy and disorganized to play, but I look forward to reading future installments.
at 18:49 on 2008-06-27 by Jamie Johnston
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