The Syfy Channel, home of the modern-day classic we call Sharknado, is coming out with Dead 7, a movie where a world infested by zombies can only be saved by members of the Backstreet Boys, N’Sync, 98 Degrees and O-Town. The trailer is up on Buzzfeed, and is warming the cockles of my very hard, very poppy heart. It’s like the Nineties suddenly exploded all over my weekend and everything is coming up roses. I am lighting candles and clutching my beads praying that this is legit, and not some crazy April Fool’s Day prank. The only way this could get better is if the Backstreet Boys announced a tour with a reunited N’Sync and I scored front row tickets to the show.
Now you know why I’m saving for wrinkle fillers, because dear god I’m old.
Everyone who’s lived long enough may say the same thing about their own decade, but I thought the Nineties were pretty amazing. We straddled the line between the digital and the analog; we used cassette tapes, dial-up modems and mobile phones that were as big as bricks. It was a time when we still had a little bit more patience for everything. I used to troll radio stations and hope they’d play the latest Top 40 single (without the DJ saying too much so it wouldn’t mess up the beginning of the song) and then hit record, and my day would be made. If I needed information, I’d go to the library, browse through the card catalog and find the book I needed. It’s nice to get instant gratification, but there’s something to be said about certain things being worth the wait.
Now, the internet is a giant vortex that sucks you in and spits you out. It’s given me an awful case of attention deficit disorder. Because I can look up and download whatever I want to in a split second, I am forever getting derailed. Short of throwing the modem off the balcony and having absolutely no Wi-Fi, I find I am helpless against its pull.
Say, I need information on the merits of sugarcane planting, just because. I tell myself to spend just an hour to get it, then it’s lights out. I take a deep breath and fire up the browser. It starts off innocuously, me and Google and search results. I’m skimming, getting a few bits and pieces of information I need, taking notes, feeling productive and proud of myself. Then slowly but surely I start veering off into another direction, following links, wondering if my favorite blogs have updates and what the weather will be like tomorrow. Then I check to see if anyone’s sent me any e-mails, and oh look, Season 5 of Game of Thrones is out on Blu-ray and Amazon’s having a sale!
It all just goes downhill from there and before I know it, I’ve gone off the reservation. Two and a half hours later, I regain consciousness, wondering why I just revisited the entire videography of Westlife, have at least 20 new gifs of 30 Rock that I adore and got caught up on my entire Facebook feed which is why I now know that my cousin now has a house in Belgium, a former classmate has had two C-sections, and there’s a reunion happening in August.
All that, and I’ve also realized I still don’t have enough information on sugarcane planting at all. The only thing I feel good about is knowing I am still and forever will be immune to cat videos.
Welcome to the Age of Information. What a time to be alive.
Saving for Botox 