I went into downtown Boston today to get a haircut. The chances of finding street parking in back bay are astronomically low, so I parked in the Prudential Center parking lot. This is a good place to park, but unless you get your ticket validated by one of the merchants upstairs, it costs an extraordinary $30 or so. With this in mind, and since I had arrived a bit early, I decided to go look around a game store.

I was a little reluctant. Despite loving video games, I tend to hate brick and mortar video game stores. There are several reasons why: they're usually cramped, and filled with teenagers and the noise of TVs blaring ads. I've had very few good experiences with the employees at these stores, too. They try and push high-margin items on you (pre-orders, or used copies of games) with an almost unparalleled rapaciousness. The whole experience is unpleasant, and in order to avoid it, I typically buy console games from Amazon and PC games from a digital distribution service (like Steam).

When I got in the store, I was pleasantly surprised—there weren't too many people, and while it was a tiny store, and the TV was, in fact, blaring ads, it was at least easy to browse around and figure out what I wanted to get. I picked out two games for my new Xbox 360—Resident Evil 5, and Dead Rising—and headed for the counter. This is (pretty much verbatim) the conversation that followed:

Manager: What can I do for you?
Me: I'd like to get Resident Evil 5, and...
Manager: What for?
Me: Xbox 360. And a copy of Dead Rising, too, please.
Manager (rummaging around through back shelves): Ok, I think I have used copies of each of those.
Me: Oh, that's okay—I'd like to get new copies if you have them.
Manager (grinning a little): Ah, okay, so you're one of those people who like wasting their money?

brief silence. This is a new low, I think. I consider walking out.

Me: Um, no, I just like to support game developers.

brief silence. The manager isn't making eye contact, and starts ringing me up.

Manager: Well, you know, that's okay, but I have to say, I disagree with you on that.
Me: How do you mean?
Manager: Well, I can see how it might seem that way to you...
Me: Yeah, well, what's your profit margin on used games?
Manager: I can't really give that information out, although you could figure it out for yourself when you sell us a game.
Me: I'm guessing it's over 100%, that you'd make about $20 or more instead of, say, $8 on a new copy. And the developers don't get anything.
Manager: But by being able to give really low prices on games, we can get more people in the store, and they'll end up buying new games, too.
Me: Well, I just tried to buy a new game that was released only a couple weeks ago, and you tried to sell me a used copy of it.
Manager (now a bit flustered): But I'm just trying to save you money, that's all.
Me (shrugging and giving up): Well, yeah, okay. Six of one...

(Because we all know that eventually someone will C&D garfield minus garfield)

I'm currently basking in the afterglow of deleting my MySpace account. That's all.

very bizarre.

The following is a bulletin I just posted (my first) on MySpace:

Dear MySpace Friends,

I'm writing, you see, because I kind of hate this place. MySpace feels less like "my space" than, perhaps, any other site on the internet. I'm not sure I can pick out what it is that I hate most about this website. The creators and maintainers are certainly at fault for its horribly ugly design, its buggy and sloppy interface, and the inane, often misspelled messages from Tom. AdBlock only serves to make this place a little less intolerable.

The general MySpace user, too, bears a large part of the burden of shame. In the 90s, there was a site called Geocities, whose purpose was to teach people that HTML can be used for evil as well as good. Somehow, though, the lesson wasn't learned. This is evidenced by looking at any random person's profile, though I don't recommend it. You'll subject yourself to: a five minute wait while the multimedia loads, the risk of an epileptic seizure from the animated .gif used as a repeating background image, and the inevitable slowdown of your computer as it tries to play at least five different sound or video files at the same time. I won't even get into the ridiculousness of the MySpace "wall," which is at best half of a public conversation, and at worst (and most commonly), a place for bands to post self-serving advertisements. My space indeed.

So, friends, here's my dilemma: I hate this place, but I don't hate you. I like you. I respect you. I even love you. You know, in a MySpace friend kind of way. I'd like to delete my profile here, but I thought that if anyone had a reason that could dissuade me, it would be you.

So feel free to sound off. You can write me a message here if you like, or you can reply publicly on my actual space. I've posted a copy of this letter there.

love -antares