A camera: Once a beautiful and fascinating instrument used to capture light onto film to preserve life's most precious memories, now commonly used to take pictures of food for Instagram and of passed out friends with Sharpie-drawn penises all over their face to pad your Facebook "like" stats. Cameras and photography have come a long way from the clunky box days that required the subject of the photo to remain near lifeless for almost five minutes (sometimes up to 15 minutes) just to produce a grainy, colorless image. By today's standards, you can snap at least 300+ pictures of your "AwESoMe NigHt AT SeÑoR fROgS" in the same amount of time.
Lookin' good, fellas.
And those pictures don't have to be "developed." Twenty-four shots was usually the maximum a film camera could handle before having to delicately switch rolls of film WITHOUT exposing the old or new roll to the sunlight. God save the Queen if you did. The last SD I purchased had the capacity to hold almost 4,000 pictures (167 rolls of film) with a 6MP quality. Hell, I've previewed and deleted more pictures off that camera than it would ever hold.
Yesterday I was in a unique situation to just happen to wander into the middle of a Macklemore concert already in progress. "What the fuck?" you ask. Microsoft opened a new store in the St. John's Town Center, a 200-acre upscale outdoor shopping center built specifically for WASPs, and sponsored a free concert featuring Macklemore. Do I like Macklemore's music? Not particularly. I don't know what the hell popping tags is, or why he would buy a skeet blanket (something guys jerk off into) at a thrift store. I have no idea why the ceiling can't hold him, that just seems like poor carpentry. I can respect fighting for gay rights, but at the end of the day, he should take a hint from Asher Roth and disappear already; Eminem is the only white rapper allowed. At the very least, stop looking like Miley Cyrus.
But who was performing doesn't concern me, the fact that I couldn't document my presence there does. How else can I walk into work on Monday with a pretentious smile on my face, raising my voice to my co-workers, "What did you do this weekend? Bet you didn't fucking see Macklemore, FOR FREE!" before waving the photographic evidence in their defeated faces. Yeah, I could have take a picture with my Samsung t139 if I wanted to show them something that looked like every Instagram filter had been applied, then then image printed on a sheet of tissue paper, rolled up and eaten, then shat out with some left over bratwurst. Seriously, the camera on that phone sucks — I've seen less blurry pictures of Bigfoot. So keep snapping away on those smartphones. Just a little words of advice: Nobody is fooled by those MySpace angles anymore; we all know you're fat.