Gaming institution Redwood has
closed his eponymous page. The site was one of the foundations on which the old,
better Quake community was built and made significant contributions to whatever the hell
it was that made the community and its benevolent, dandyish overseers so freakin great.
Before the rejoicing starts, I should point out that Redwood, like Michael Myers
before him, is not dead. He has teamed up with the people who run Stomped
and the people who recently purchased the people who run Stomped, Internet Entertainment
Associates, LLC, to create a new megasite still haplessly called Stomped. It's
mission? Unclear. Like most of you, I'd never been to Stomped proper before
the Redwood consolidation; so I'm not sure what they did prior to this recent tragedy.
Since Our Friend In Space figures so prominently in their vague plans, I can only
imagine that a substantial portion of the "new" Stomped's reporting will focus
on what is wrong with Redwood's computer, "what up" with his car audio
situation, and where and when he first sees "Varsity Blues" on DVD.
In an effort to generate excitement among their confused readership, the straight
shootin', street talkin' Stomped editors in conjunction with a majority of the governing
body of Internet Entertainment Associates, LLC have this to say about their new staff
member:
So if you thought he ripped it up working on his site part-time,
you ain't seen nothin' yet.
I think by "ripped it up" they mean to evoke images of
the Three Stooges "ripping up" some socialite's fancy townhouse as they try
incompetently to install plumbing. Otherwise, it doesn't make any sense. And
speaking of not making any sense, here is a description of one of their boldest new
features:
On the left you'll see a section called "Stomped
Chronicles". These are subjects that are generating a lot of interest or news, but
only a bit at a time.
James Vipond, if you are reading this, please avert your eyes:
Sweet Jesus, what the fuck are you Stomped people talking about? Unlike the
staff of Stomped, Redwood in particular, the employees of Internet Entertainment
Associates, LLC, and any of the temps they hire to type Jason Hall's name and address into
Access so they can later send him a fruit basket, I didn't graduate from high school.
But most of our smarty-pants readers did - many of them went to college - and my
informal polling shows that they don't know what you're talking about either. Maybe
you've all got some post-tertiary degree that's necessary for understanding your secret
purpose, or maybe it's just "wack."
For our young readers who may be missing already the life lessons
freely distributed in Redwood's "State of the Wood" diary pages, let me pass
along one of my own observations from something I experienced just yesterday:
Someday you'll have a girlfriend. You'll argue with that girlfriend; sometimes
heatedly. In the passion of battle, do not scream hysterically, "You
know who loves me? Mommy!"
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