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Thursday, October 14, 2010

Image Macros



 
        Oh, hi there. Welcome to my happy hole. That's what I call my blog silly. Why, what did you think I meant? Oh my dear heavens no, you are such a silly goose. No. I call that my passion pit.
        Today we are going to talk about image macros, but knowing you you are far too lazy and unattractive to bother clicking on the link, so I'll just tell you it's a picture with superimposed text, i.e. what you are looking at, you disgusting, indolent swine.
        Some things that are funny today will not be funny, say, a hundred years from now. I predict that in a hundred years the cast of Jersey Shore will be the subject of anthropological study, so Snooki and her gaper will have become academic and thus completely unfunny. I also predict that death will no longer be funny because they will be able to store people's souls on flash drives and we will all be effectively immortal. But image macros will never stop being funny, ever. And until they figure out this whole soul storage deal we will all be sent straight to Hell, where we will be forced to watch King of Queens.
        As the article you didn't bother to read insinuated, image macros have been around for over 9000 years. Things like the Hindenburg disaster and Idi Amin happened at least 100 years ago, and would be lucky to still be funny a decade from now. On second thought Idi Amin will always be funny. Especially if they start making image macros of him.
        Once when I was trapped in a Chilean mine for 69 days I had a lot of time to reflect on shit, and that was when it occurred to me that image macros are a form of narrative. They tell a story, and the possibilities are endless as to what kind of story they will tell. Often the story is completely different from what the picture alone says. For example, without the text this picture would probably say to you something to the effect of, "Hi, my name is Relapse-a-Trey. I just played the same few notes for 73 hours straight and I gotta tell ya I am bored as fucking tits up here!"
Relapse-a-Trey. If you get this I just lost a lot of respect for you
        But when it is transmogrified into a macro we learn that the little ginger boy in the picture has just had a mind-bottling orgasm, probably brought on by the sheer virtuosity of his own sucking, and it turns out to be a happy story rather than a sad or at least frustrating one.
        I would say that image macros are probably my favorite thing ever, other than sex, ninjas, and ninja pornography, and this one time at Great Woods when they played a sixty-minute "Runaway Jim" with "Twist" teases at the thirty-eight-minute mark. I'm not gonna lie and say I don't have some Phish shows on my iPod, but I also have DeBarge so so much for my credibility. Buenos dias putas. Merci beaucoup.



        
        

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