Really, Amazon?  I didn’t peg you for an optimist.

Or, are you being ironic?

Do you think they realize that this also means he can, if he really wants to?

I detest advertising that panders to covering up a problem rather than addressing it, and this is a fine example.  This mother’s “problem” is not how to handle a photograph with Windows 7, it’s the social shame she feels about her unruly family.

Now, to be fair, her annoying teenage daughter is so self-absorbed that she can’t be bothered to look up from her texting.  The boys are slap-assing, as boys do, and her husband is such a loser that he apparently can’t attack a problem as simple as “keep everybody sitting for 10 seconds” without screwing that up.

But, as a parent, your family is what you’ve made it, right?  Which, for this woman, seems to be heart-achingly embarrassing.

They show us how she flips the heads, snip snap, and finally, a photo she can share “without ridicule.”

Really?  There are people out there ridiculing your family photos?  Harsh!  Can Windows 7 help you get some new friends that aren’t assholes?

It’s the final line in the commercial that really brings it all home, for me:  ”Windows gives me the family nature never could.”

Way to go, you pretentious bitch of a mother.  It won’t put you on anyone’s list of all time great family matriarchs, but at least it’s honest.

So, let’s not forget the lesson learned! When you have a family that is failing at the all-important task of impressing your shallow friends, all you need is really good software.

When on the way to the theatre for a gay evening out, it’s not the best idea to take a “quick shortcut” through the shabby people while they’re outraged and protesting.

iPhone 4 image of Zoe, edited with Mobile Monet + Iris.

It poked along for about 2 months before we forgot about it, but here’s an archive of as much as we created in that time:

PALADINS OF FATE
Copyright (c) 1981, 1982, 1983 PoF, Inc. All rights reserved.
PALADINS OF FATE is a registered trademark of PoF, Inc.
Revision 88 / Serial number 840726

West of House
You are standing in an open field west of a white house.
There is a small mailbox here.

>open mailbox
The mailbox opens to reveal a colorful postcard.

>Read postcard
(taking the postcard)

The postcard features a photograph of a large arab waving a piece of cheese and has the words “Greetings from Wisconsin!” emblazoned across the picture.

The back of the card is white, with a vertical black line dividing the white space into halves. The right half is addressed to “Creed” and has a postmarked stamp in the upper right corner. One of the corners of the stamp is rolled up and it appears to be slightly loose.

On the left half of the card is scribbled, “For the 440.”

>Inventory
You are holding:
a colorful postcard
a creased and worn brochure
a no. 2 pencil

>Take stamp
As you pull on the loosened corner of the stamp, you notice the surface of the postcard start to rip. You relinquish your grip on the stamp so as not to damage the card.

>E
The white house blocks your way.

>Examine house
The house is a little clapboard construction which could stand a new coat of paint, but otherwise looks quite cozy. Immediately in front of you is what appears to be the back porch, a small concrete slab with stairs cut into it leading up to the closed doorway.

Pathways lead northeast and southeast around the house.

>Read brochure
The brochure, entitled “Being a Paladin,” seems to have passed through many hands before ending up deposited in your pocket. The once slick color glossy paper is now creased and worn white in several places, obscuring the full text.

From what you can make out, the brochure extolls the virtues of belonging to a cult.

>Take brochure
You are already holding the brochure!

>score
You are scoreless, dead broke, devoid of pointage, and on the downside of 0.

> enter house
The door blocks your way.

> open door
The door is locked.

> x porch
A closer examination of the porch reveals nothing besides a few cracks.

> climb porch
What do you think the porch is, Mount Everest?

>Poke crack
The crack resists your attempts at penetration.

>Look

West of House
You are standing in an open field west of a white house.
There is a small mailbox here.

>Go NE

North of House
You are on a pathway leading around a small house to the south. The pathway continues to the southeast, and a larger walkway leads north into the woods.

>SE

East of House
You are in a grassy clearing east of a small house. There are paths leading northwest and southwest around the building.

The only window on this side of the house must be broken, as it is covered with wooden planks.

> Pull planks
You find a small purchase on one of the planks covering the window and pull with all your might!

At first, nothing seems to be happening, besides slipping a disk in your lower back, but after continued pressure the plank comes free from the window in a riot of squealing friction. The nails holding the board in place rip straight through the aging plank and stay rooted around the edges of the window.

The board is too bulky to carry while holding anything else, and it clatters noisily to your feet.

Examining the window now, you can see that one board has been removed, revealing the edge of a broken window underneath. A quick glance at the rest of the planks assures you that there will be no way to remove any of them without substantial leverage.

> Examine window
The dusty glass reveals little besides the etched legend “PoF Magic Annealing Company.” The window is broken and much of it is missing. Shards of glass dot the sill and a few larger pieces stick up out of the grass below the window.

> Look around
East of House
You are in a grassy clearing east of a small house. There are paths leading northwest and southwest around the building.

The only window on this side of the house must be broken, as it is covered with wooden planks. One of the planks has been removed.

There is a large wooden plank lying in the grass.

> Head north into the woods
(You return to North of House and follow the walkway north.)

Wooded Lane
You are standing in a well cultivated arboretum. Dozens of varieties of manicured plant life surround the area, each with a plaque of title and description. This section of the collection looks to be representative of North American species.

Giant redwoods tower overhead, creating a dappled ceiling of foliage for the area, and you can easily pick out a buckeye, a box elder, and the common saccharinum.

The aboretum stretches off to the west, and a sandy trail wanders north.

You hear rustling and a *clunk* coming from behind a Catalpa.

> take plank
There isn’t any plank here!

> examine Catalpa
As you approach the Catalpa, you hear a rustle and a clunk once again. Looking behind the tree you observe a teenage boy wearing a baggy sweatshirt and jeans kicking absently at the plaque for the Juniper.

> Talk boy
The boy jumps away from you violently, startled at the sound of your voice.

“i thought i was alone i couldn’t find no one.” He eyes you suspiciously. “r u here to take me away again? i have been gone too long already except for my little brother who is 3.”

He looks down at the slightly damaged plaque, then back at you, searching for any signs of anger. Seeing none, he shrugs and shuffles absently from foot to foot.

And that’s as far as we got.  There is such a fascinating story there, but the world may never know the end!

I sincerely wish that all people are basically good, and systems designed to help the good people will succeed.  I expect that people will act like garbage toward one another, and the systems will be exploited to the point of uselessness.

It is my hope that it’s really just an oversight for most people when they leave dog poo behind at the ballpark. I expect that actually doing the math, as I dodge between the piles, would require near 100% amnesia for many people.

When I turn on my blinker well ahead of my intention to change lanes on the expressway, I’m putting pennies into the bank of human courteousness.  I expect that I will lose my shirt on this investment, as the guy 6 car lengths back suddenly floors it to close the gap.

I trust in the favor earned, as I bring my own tools to the corporate office to assist on that project that will help out the group.  I expect a sinking feeling, watching the cordless drill falling from the second floor towards the sidewalk in slow motion.

I don’t think I can count how many times I do this in the course of one day.  I can’t tell if I’m any better or worse off constantly rotating through this yin-yang cycle every day, but I do know it is damn tiring.

I’m in the same hell space with my whole business right now.  Ask me about our purposes and goals and I can go on for hours about all the potential of our various enterprises, but in the same breath tell you that I fully expect that we are living during the fall of the empire.  We’re probably all headed towards rougher times more likely than better, and we need to think about things like where does our food and water come from, and how do I maintain some supplies in case of public strife?

…

But, then I take a deep breath and say “let’s get back to it” – and I work my ass off towards the dreams of flight.  So far, it seems to work, but I wonder what tough choices might lie ahead, and what kind of person will I be?

I dream that I am the best I can be, but I expect…

The Non-Elitist Group is colorblind, all specs are embraced here.

The Non-Elitist Group enjoys taking frequent breaks while you get the lawn mowed.

The Non-Elitist Group thinks it’s still funny the fifth time you wipe the group because you had Tigger on aggro.

The Non-Elitist Group feels that six months in the same raid dungeon is “a darn good start.”

The Non-Elitist Group thinks you people all look the same.

The Non-Elitist Group’s bar of entry is whatever includes you, but not the next person behind you.

The Non-Elitist Group knows that /flirt always trumps math when things get tough.

The Non-Elitist Group is a myth.