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The Future of Digital Cinema
prostoalex writes "This article on ABCNews talks about two different technologies, aimed at bringing the cinemas up to the standards of this digital age. It points out some interesting information regarding the status quo such as "of the more than 35,000 movie screens operating in the United States today, only 60 are digitally equipped, largely because of the technology's $150,000 price tag"."
Hanging: Two problems with this... First of all it's boring. I mean, God, there's no excitement in just hanging there! Second, it could be somewhat painful. Choking to death doesn't exactly turn me on. Of course, I could auto-erotically asphyxiate myself to death, I suppose.
Shooting: This seems to be the way I will likely go. It's quick, it's (hopefully) painless, and very messy which means very exciting! The only problem I have with this is that everybody seems to go out this way these days. Kurt Cobain, Vincent van Gogh, Ernest Hemingway... the list goes on. Do I really want to be known as just another guy who shot himself?
Jumping: Again, two problems... It's not certain unless I jump from something really high, and in my area, the tallest buildings are only two stories. Second, even though I am clearly highly suicidal, what if I suddenly change my mind right after I jump? At least with the other two, I don't have time to think about it!
Please, give me your suggestions, and I will take them to heart. Then, I will finally have a happy and successful suicide.
Regards,
klerck
DTABN
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He began to eat the sheep feces. In fact, HE FINISHED EVERY LAST BIT! My brother ate sheep shit!!!
But the funny thing is, I don't even have a brother! It was me! I ATE SHEEP SHIT!!!
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Netcraft has confirmed: Taco-snotting is dying.
Yet another crippling bombshell hit the beleaguered Taco-snotting community when recently IDC confirmed that Taco-snotting accounts for less than a fraction of 1 percent of all homosexual acts. Coming on the heels of the latest Netcraft survey which plainly states that Taco-snotting has lost more fag practitioners, this news serves to reinforce what weve known all along. Taco-snotting faggots are collapsing in complete disarray, as further exemplified by failing dead last in the recent Faggot World comprehensive snotting test.
You dont need to be a Katz to predict Taco-snottings future. The handwriting is on the wall: Taco-snotting faces a bleak future. In fact there wont be any future at all for Taco-snotting because Taco-snotting is dying. Things are looking very bad for Taco-snotting. As many of us are already aware, Taco-snotting continues to lose faggotshare. White ink flows like a river of bubbly, thick jizz. The circle-snot is the most endangered of them all, having lost 93% of its core snotters.
Lets keep to the facts and look at the numbers.
Circle-snotting leader Jeff Homos Masterbates states that there are 7000 snotters of the circle-snot. How many users of anal snot are there? Lets see. The number of circle-snotting versus anal snot posts on Usenet is roughly in ratio of 5 to 1. Therefore there are about 7000/5 = 1400 anal snot users. SnotOS posts on Usenet are about half of the volume of anal snot posts. Therefore there are about 700 users of SnotOS. A recent article put the circle-snot at about 80 percent of the Taco-snotting market. Therefore there are (7000+1400+700)*4 = 36400 circle-snot users. This is consistent with the number of circle-snot Usenet posts.
Due to the troubles of CowboiKneels walnuts, abysmal sales and so on, the circle-snot went out of business and was taken over by SNOTi who sell another troubled Taco-snot. Now SNOTi is also dead, its corpse turned over to yet another gay whorehouse.
All major surveys show that Taco-snotting has steadily declined in faggotshare. Taco-snotting is very sick and its long term survival prospects are very dim. If Taco-snotting is to survive at all it will be among heterosexual hobbyist dabblers. Taco-snotting continues to decay. Nothing short of a jizz-soaked miracle could save it at this point in time. For all practical purposes, Taco-snotting is dead.
Fact: Taco-snotting is dead.
- posted by poopbot: crapflooding since 7/8/02
DcKshN3mwr Post #261
DTABN
I'm not gon give up
I'm not gon stop
I'm gon work harder
I'm a survivor
I'm gonna make it
I will survive
Keep on survivin'
DTABN
In the early 1870s, Francis Zefran became the first penis bird breeder in North America. He started his famous Penis Bird Ranch in Canton, OH. At the time, not much was known of the penis bird's nutritional value, but the Penis Bird Ranch changed all of that. Not only did Francis Zefran raise penis birds to sell their colorful plumes (a VERY lucrative business), he also set up the world's first research lab dedicated solely to the study of the penis bird.
The lab found many interesting things. First, it was discovered that thepenis bird was actually semi-sentient. Second, the scientists found that the meat of the penis bird was high in protein, vitamin A, vitamin B, and calcium, while low in fat, cholestorol, and sodium. Never before had such a nutritious meal been had without supplement or fortification. The scientists of the lab recommended immediately that the penis bird become a part of every American's daily diet.
When the news of the penis bird's usefulness reached president Rutherford B. Hayes, he was absolutely ecstatic. You see, President Hayes owed a number of favors to Francis Zefran because as I said earlier, the penis bird plume trade was an extremely lucrative business and Mr. Zefran was important in getting RBH elected through a number of monetary gifts. President Hayes immediately asked Congress to pass what we all know today as the Hayes/Zefran Penis Bird Consumption Act.
The act did a number of things to make the penis bird a daily meal, most important of which was the requirement that for every four people in a household, one penis bird must consumed every day. Another thing the act did was create an artificial monopoly for Francis Zefran's Penis Bird Industries. The act stated that the only supplier of penis bird meat in the US would be PBI. As one would imagine, this quickly made Francis Zefran into the richest man in the world. He was soon a multi-billionaire (quadrillionaire with today's inflation). Never before had a single man seen such wealth.
Many challenges were made to the Hayes/Zefran Penis Bird Consumption Act, and several even made it the Supreme Court. It was argued that the act was unconstitutional and went against liberty itself, but once the detractors tasted delicious penis bird meat for the first time, they immediately dropped their cases and followed the law to the letter. We all know today that penis bird is the most delicious meat man has ever known, but at that time, the only meats people ate were pork and beef.
In the early 1970s, though, challenges to the act began again. Many argued that the monopoly given to Penis Bird Industries by the act was in all ways unamerican. The Supreme Court finally agreed, and in 1974, Section II of the act was struck down. This in effect opened the market to competition for all.
Today, Penis Bird Industries is almost no more. Today we have the market leader Penis Bird Meat International facing against Penissoft, a recent startup. Where will the future lead the penis bird market? Only time will tell us, but one thing is certain: penis birds are here to stay!
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The Virgin Mother appeared to me today. She was holding two baked potatoes with sour cream and chives. "They're delicious," she said, and she smiled, emanating a great white light. I took one from her. It was warm and inviting. I cut into it with my plastic fork and plastic knife and I took a bite. It was, as usual, very dry. She held out the other potato to me. "You try it," I said, "it's dry as fuck."
DTABN
I always feel like someone at Wendy's is going to help me change. It's so hard to really change--most of the time I don't even think of it as a possibility. At Wendy's, though, especially when I've ordered and I know that good people are working hard to bring me what I deserve, I know I can change. I can become something truly special, like an escaped death-row inmate or a twelve-year-old prostitute.
DTABN
I stretch ass like noone can!
In the hole where I go poop,
I can fit a can of soup!
Yes I have a wide ass-hole,
stretched out by the giver's pole!
People tell me to go shove it,
They don't know how much I love it!
Yes I am the goatse man!
I stretch ass like noone can!
DTABN
Very high on marijuana brownies, I could not speak today at the register. I kept stepping aside for other customers and staring hard at the menu. I was overwhelmed by the chicken sandwich pictured there, but had no words for it. I kept saying, "there, that one... the man dressed like a woman." It's hard to get served when one understands the signifier as a process.
August 27, 1996
Still high on those brownies, but coming down. I've eaten, in the past twenty-four hours, so very many burgers and chicken sandwiches. The Sea of Coke is heavy today with meat--its coldswells with the meaty goodness that objects to language. Some kids drift by, talking. One of them says, "that sucks dead donkey dicks," and the other agrees. Imagine.
DTABN
First I have to Thank the Lord Jesus Christ. It is only through Him that I am able to order anything at all, let alone eat it. It is only through Him, through His gift to me, that I am able to move my eyeballs from left to right, right to left, and to crane my neck the way I do. Imagine trying to live without being able to move your eyeballs or crane your neck! Imagine never being blessed with teeth, tongue, tingle!
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Today I've been saying "Schunk" every time I perform a small task. When I close the refrigerator door, for example, or put an ice-cube in my glass of Jim Beam. There are acts, though, that "schunk" cannot adequately bear witness to. For instance, this morning at breakfast I watched a video where several men came all at once in a woman's face: sheer schunklessness.
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erm.. what was that? in English.
moo
Today I was thinking that it might be nice to be able, in one's last days, to move into a Wendy's. Perhaps a Wendy's life-support system could even be created and given a Wendy's slant; liquid fries, for instance, and burgers and Frosties continually dripped into one's vegetable dream locus. It would intensify the visits of the well, too, to see that such a care is being taken for their destiny.
DTABN
Today I had a Biggie. Usually I just have a small, and refill. Why pay more? But today I needed a Biggie inside me. Some days, I guess, are like that. only a Biggie will do. You wake up and you know: today I will get a Biggie and I will put it inside me and I will feel better. One time I saw a guy with three Biggies at once. One wonders not about him but about what it is that holds us back.
DTABN
Today I've been saying "schink" instead of "schunk" as I perform the small events of my persistence. "Schink" is more precise than "schunk," indicating a narrower, shallower act. Closing the refrigerator--shink--dropping ice-cubes in my glass of Jim Beam--schink, schink. It is a tidier existence, as though things were readier to be spoken of. The erosion of the soul is endless.
DTABN
Like a bowl of fresh fruit suddenly alone in the Arctic night, like a killer under arrest for an unrelated misdemeanor, like a flightless bird thrown up into the air by a cruel child, like an abandoned car in the middle of a huge, empty parking lot, like a juggler dreaming of being tied down, like a young priest watching porn in th eearly morning, I sit in my booth and decide nothing.
DTABN
Today the restaurant was filled with warmth, a spirit of caring. The food was just right and the service was prompt. For the first time this season, snow began to fall. Parents laughed with their children. handsome employees made witty--but not inconsiderate--remakrs. Retired couples were given Extra Value coupons. I felt like getting fucked up and watching t.v. forever.
DTABN
October 15th 1996
Today I believe more than any other. That man in front - how does he cope? It is somehow supportive to be called an imposter.
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Today I had fifteen dollars worth of coffees. I got them one at a time, and dined in. The first five were leisurely, but then the leisure disintegrated. I went through the last five in about five minutes. After awhile the register girl looked at her manager as if to say: "Is there something we should do?" The manager said nothing. I said nothing. We understood one another perfectly.
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I can say without hesitation that if Wendy's ever started to "deliver" I would end my life. And in a way, my suicide would mimic Wendy's decision to "deliver." That is, I would decide that my blood, which, in my body, made sense, should flow out in to the dust, where it makes just more dust. Our homes are dust? you ask. Yes, our homes are dust. Don't pretend you are surprised.
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STanding in Wendy's is like standing naked in your own glass compartment in a room full of people similarly compartmentalized. One is free to take in the nakedness of others, if only from behind sturdy glass. It is possible to communicate, but only within a crude signaling system that makes conversation very limited. One must be satisfied with this limitation, though: one must not stare.
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I want our first time to be special. Candles, soft music, moonlight. I want everything to be just right. I don't want to feel rushed. I don't want the first time to be in some cheap motel. I want it to feel like it was completely meant to be. That way, when I suck your pussy, ease four fingers up your lubricated asshole, pinch your nipples and drench you in cum, it will be really beautiful.
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If I were royalty I would want a Biggie and a hundred plain burgers. I would throw away the buns and lay the burgers side by side on the sidewalk so as to form a bed. I would take off all my clothes and lie down in the bed with my Biggie. As people passed by, I would say, "Behold the meaty bed of royalty! Behold the final Biggie!" And I would relax there until I was arrested.
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I tried to order a Biggie coffee today. It couldn't be done. I felt sort of childish asking, like my request betrayed my ignorance in the matter. Ironically, nothing could be further from the truth; I know--believe me I do--how wrong it is to have a coffee of that size (I know too that I would have never gone through with it). It's sort of scary, but the truth is: I really don't know why I asked.
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Wendy, soon I will kiss you passionately in the cunt and hold on tight to nothing. I will tongue your eyelids and your belly like they were on and the same. I will lay my dick across your belly and ask you where your mouth is. I will find your mouth. I will escort us both into a place of disintegrating requirements. And no one will came and save us.
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If I had the money I would buy a slave, but only if I had enough money to buy a master as well. Not a master for my slave, but a master for myself. I would be my slave's master. I would call my slave "Bucket," and I would ask my master to call me "Bucket," too. The countryside would ring with calls of "Bucket!" and with the irresolute gentility of simultaneous whippings.
DTABN
used to be owned by Hoyts and was only two theaters. Being small , Hoyts only allowed second rate movies to be shown so people would go to the bigger theaters in the surronding towns. Eventually they closed it down and it sat empty for a year till a local guy took out a loan, bought the place, renamed it Welch Theaters, upgraded to Digital and charges $7.50 for a movie. That's what I paid to see AOTC's midnight premire.
It's not Digital Technology that is raising ticket prices, it is poor management. Welch Theaters is one example of why we need the little guys around.
Oh, and one more thing.
FUCK HOYTS!
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my friends at the clinic told me this was a good site for porn...why is there all this other stuff about tech and movies and old news that nobody really cares to hear?