DAN MCGLAUGHLIN

ACTOR/VOICE ACTOR
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Saturday, December 18, 2010

My Dinner with Andre








ANDRE: Okay! Yes! We're bored! We're all bored now! But has it ever occurred to you, Wally, that the process that creates this boredom that we see in the world now may very well be a self-perpetuating, unconscious form of brain-washing, created by a world totalitarian government based on money? And that all of this is much more dangerous than one thinks? And it's not just a question of individual survival, Wally, but that somebody who's bored is asleep, and somebody who's asleep will not say "no"? See, I keep meeting these people, I mean, uh, just a few days ago I met this man whom I greatly admire, he's a Swedish physicist, Gustav Björnstrand? And he told me that he no longer watches television, he doesn't read newspapers and he doesn't read magazines. He's completely cut them out of his life, because he really does feel that we're living in some kind of Orwellian nightmare now, and that everything that you hear now contributes to turning you into a robot!


You see, actually, for two or three years now Chiquita and I have had this very unpleasant feeling that we really should get out. No, we really should feel like Jews in Germany in the late thirties? Get out of here! Of course, the problem is where to go, 'cause it seems quite obvious that the whole world is going in the same direction. You see, I think it's quite possible that the nineteen-sixties represented the last burst of the human being before he was extinguished. And that this is the beginning of the rest of the future now, and that from now on there'll simply be all these robots walking around, feeling nothing, thinking nothing. And there'll be nobody left almost to remind them that there once was a species called a human being, with feelings and thoughts. And that history and memory are right now being erased, and soon nobody will really remember that life existed on the planet!

Sunday, December 5, 2010

The Whiskey Nerd Manifesto by Shawn Elliot

The bottom of my computer desk feels like braille to the finger--a cave ceiling, stalactites and such, but all boogers.
I stick em there while waiting for maps to load and while watching cutscenes, so blame the game, not the player.

I swish my legs through Taco Bell wrappers, leg high, and some stick to my soles like toilet tissue on a shoe.
I suppose I have myself to blame for that, however, hygiene's never been my strong suit.

There's not a dish in sight, though, and that being because while I can ratatou a ratatouille and souffle a souffle like nobody's business—all with limp-wristed Wiimote gestures--I can't actually cook.
I take out and order in.
Damn it, I need a USB powered hot pocket heater. Slash-pizza ain't a punchline, it's a lifeline.
Throw me a chicken bone here, as long as there's meat left on it. And don't go feedin' em to the dog: they splinter and the sharp ends hurt something fierce on the outbound and damn it, I don't need the howling in the background as I talk to buddies in Teamspeak.

In the future scientists will prove my Zboard made me 16.2 percent faster. It's luxury it's lightning it's been signed by Fatality. In pizza grease no less. Problem is its a Guild Wars Zboard brand Zboard so when I press the cast spell key I throw a grenade or hit a handbrake or throw a Hail Mary pass or make some other hot shit move that isn't casting a spell.

And I type on it, I'm typing this on it. And I know that when I press “items” then “mini map” then “skills” it comes out F T W and that way the message board champions know I'm a message board champion, too. I script whole words to single keystrokes. I hit “call target” and it comes out “confirmed”. With those four keys alone I can pretty much contribute to any conversation you can have. That is unless you're a lady.

If your FPS screenname is Princess PMS you better believe I'm asking A S L (no hot key makes me hotter). I might not know you but I already love you. Let me buy you nachos bel grande, baby. Or better yet, a 7 layer crunchwrap supreme and baja blast. We'll attack it from either end until our mouths meet in the middle like Lady and the Tramp only remade for today's brandscape. Living the good life of El Presidente. Make it mild or hot or fire, no matter to me. We'll lay in the wrappers and make snow angels maybe.
Just don't look up at the bottom of my computer desk.