About one year ago, my father sent me a link to an online game where you have to “land” Lufthansa aircraft by clicking on a given city: Virtual Pilot. The video game tallies up the distance of your chosen spot from the correct city. The smaller the distance, the more points you receive. It is a crash course in geography.
It is Friday, the Brits have a hung parliament because David Cameron is a wussy, Tory-lite joke, and many of you are looking forward to the weekend. Here is a time waster game to take you through an afternoon break: “Can you name the characters from The Simpsons?”
Having been on the air for two decades, The Simpsons has populated Springfield rather fully. However, the game only asks you to identify sixty-three faces. Cake, eh?
We are living in a time where waste and irresponsibility are celebrated and encouraged in public rhetoric and policy. In the spirit of the times, I offer an old Friday time waster—Heartgard’s I Do Dog Tricks. Simply follow the link and type whatever commands you wish for the little chap. It is cute and pointless . . . just what one needs in a time waster.
I love the internet; it offers us such a bounty of tawdry goods without end. Several years ago, I came upon the Postmodernism Generator, which is a fitting testament to the idiocy of reason’s enemies. The generator is a clever program that pieces together strings of postmodern catch phrases into something suggestive of cognitive human thought. Naturally, it must fall significantly short of logical argumentation or else the semblance to postmodern scholarship would be ruined and the parody would not hold.
Each time that you reload the page, the mindless code produces a new set of similarly senseless rubbish. You can find many precious gems. In this case, we get,
“Sexual identity is fundamentally a legal fiction,” says Sontag; however, according to la Fournier, it is not so much sexual identity that is fundamentally a legal fiction, but rather the futility of sexual identity. The subject is interpolated into a that includes language as a whole. But the premise of textual nationalism implies that class, perhaps surprisingly, has intrinsic meaning.”
The joy never ends!
The generator’s host site, Communications from Elsewhere, also links to Alan Sokal’s Social Text affair, which humiliated and outraged humanities departments for exposing them to be the misologic posers that they are.
Finally, sensible academic subversion . . .