Editorial Archives — Page 64 of 79

Lagswitched by Anonymous

Today, gamers everywhere were unable to get totally pwnd by flying lagswitchers who use auto-aim scripts to score headshots every time. Anonymous has taken the age old rivalry between hackers and gamers to the largest possible scale and blown it for both sides. In what is spun by Anon Propaganda Sources as an act meant to defend hacker freedom, Anonymous has revoked the internet for all Playstation 3 consoles. For some who are too afraid to jailbreak their console and too dumb to use a PC, PSN is the only way to access the internet. Gamers have been left with no other recourse but to failtroll AnonNews and AnonOps.

Don’t get me wrong. The problem that Anonymous faces is not the minor hypocrisy of denying PSN filtered internet to mindless joystick jerkers. Anon has become confused and DDoSed when they really meant to lagswitch and grief, along with other long proven methods for ruining games. Maybe PSHome is in need of some poolside Afro loving. But no, thanks to DDoS fixation, Anonymous has committed the vile hypocrisy of ruining griefing for their own kind. I encourage all Anons to flood PSN with real ruination and hate. Get some true lulz out of this horse before it dies. Sony is scum.

Sony’s team of flunky executives has decided they will get a good profit margin on their attorneys’ salaries by going after the genius of George Hotz. Because GeoHot’s academic pursuits have defeated all software piracy safeguards, he is to blame for all piracy and must pay for every game ever pirated. When Apple claimed that they own your iPhone forever, it just did not stand up in court. Big businesses have become so crooked that they no longer want to sell you a product that works on its own. They just want to rent you a product that rents you more products. George Hotz took it upon himself to expose this farce and now Sony wants him to pay up. Any reasoning person can conclude that Sony owes George Hotz millions of dollars for his research. Sony is responsible for making PSN so shitty that the LOIC is more fun than Call of Duty: Black Ops. Point and shoot. Point and shoot. Point and shoot. Point and shoot.

Fucking Pseudonymous Pwnd!

Depression

I think it’s springtime, but I’m not sure. The weather forecast is three days of rain at fifty degrees. My forecast only goes out three days, so it could be more than that.

I was thinking about the holocaust, Judas sampler when four priests approached me to explain the sins of our fathers on a rainy street corner. They said he’d give me eternal life if I just repent, and I told them that’s not long enough. Of course, I don’t buy their lies anyway. It’s cheaper to think alone.

I mean drink alone. That’s what I do, maybe an unequal amount of either. Of course, then again, we all know the truth about alcohol. What makes us forget is the reason we want to forget anything at all.

Demon poison! My only issue sometimes is that I wake up, that I can’t drink myself into an eternal slumbering stupor. Just forced to suck in the rain, the grayness and fog when I wake up at 8 p.m. and my body wants to watch TV and my mind craves the Internet and neither are satisfied by the actions of the other and I can’t drink anymore and there’s only a bit of weed left before I run out and my paychecks aren’t deep enough to sustain this habit. I may just move out. Live in the truck.

Just a fantasy. I can’t live in a vehicle. I enjoy private restrooms too much.

And then I’m back to where I started. God damn. I can’t deal with it much longer. I feel like I’m going to go crazy, man. Literally crazy, like madness and all.

I suffer from a genetic malaise of general complacency, a lack of desire to come up any higher than I am – not desire, but will. The right, or rather the wrong, instincts to drive forward instead of parking to nap. Drive, always driving. When I get in that mindset I am all gears turning. The next day, one turns. Some days, no turning at all. Some days, only depression. Others, mania. Up and down, I go back and forth and I used to think writing my way in and out of these problems was both cause and solution but I see now it’s a condition that follows me always. I will never make it out alive. Never.

I have to! But I won’t.

People die, dreams undone – will that be me? Is it already? Who am I? Who wasn’t I?

Jesus God! Will it ever end? This depression, I want only to sleep. I crave peace and comfort, warmth and tranquility. I need her shoulder back to lie on, where I felt so strong without it, but when I had it – now there is only weakness.

For all the money in the world I would give up to live the life of subtle zen, of marijuana and videogames and rejecting good sex because I was more obliged to my sloth-like tendencies from which I now suffer endlessly. I am just tired and weak nowadays, like a sickness has grabbed a hold of me and wants to make me its bitch.

How can I work around it? How will I come out of it?

I need a nap.