I'm a gadget, gadgety, gadgetman, and I've had enough of it.
I belong to that remarkably intelligent and preternaturally good looking late Sixties not quite 1970 generation that, despite the odd wonky tooth and a liking for nicotine based tubes of delight, has more or less scooped the Pools.
We had the early gadgets (I'm thinking Shenmue on the Dreamcast here, not the Apple Newton) and got first dibs on the new stuff before the KIDZ could afford it. Them were the days when education was free and complimentary booze and fag vouchers were afforded by local Government.
We arsed about the late 80's and 90's before waking up in the late Noughties despising ourselves and everything that we created. Except we didn't, because we've still got most of our teeth and we don't walk about txting like twathead Twitterers.
The legions of the damned are upon us; illiteracy stalks the corridors of the imagination as the demise of Christendom expresses itself in the furrowed brows of the outcast generation raised by Beelzebub that will rise up and smite its elders.
Not that I'm worrying. I'm looking forward to pornographic holographic Skype.
Either that or a good book.
3 comments:
Don't forget free miniskirts, NHS brown ale and disposable Amstrads. But an evening sitting by the phone wasn't much fun.
As I don't even play so much as solitaire online, I haven't a clue.
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