Day Four

This was our last day in New York, before we moved on to Washington DC. In the morning we went to the Museum of the Moving Image, in Queens. The reason we did this was so that we could all use it to help us with our Media Studies learning. This was a Media Studies trip, but only half of us took it (I didn't take it), because as there weren't enough people who wanted to go on the trip, they opened it up to everyone. That was pretty cool. They had a showing of how early video technology worked by taking pictures really quickly so that they can go onto a flick book. The idea in this is that you actually do something that would be funny as having in a flick book, like dancing, or having a pretend kung fu fight. Alas, this was not what our feeble minded Joe decided to do. He donated his set of pictures to me, because he didn't want them. But they really are artistically profound in every sense of the word.

Notice how he doesn't move, at all. The brilliance of the man; he knows that this technology is nothing to him, it is inferior to his very being.

They also had a device where you get to choose a famous movie scene, and dub over the original lines with your own voice. The idea is that you copy the original lines, and watch back as the characters magically speak with your voice all of a sudden. But, no. This was no challenge for our brilliance. We did the Wizard of Oz, where Dorothy first meets the Oompa Lumpa/Hobbits/Whatever the fuck they are things, dubbing over every one of her lines with 'Maatttt Dammonnnn', varying the tone depending on the emotions she was trying to convey, such is our acting talent. We recorded it, and George has it, and it is hilarious, but he hasn't uploaded it... if you wish to see it, please hassle him. It's a shame, because we appear to have now missed the Oscar ceremonies, and I was sure that this would be a shoo in for best short picture.

After that we had lunch at some random Mall thing. It was ok. (I know, right, gripping stuff)

Then we left New York once and for all. It was probably the saddest moment in the history of the world, perhaps only surpassed by that bit in Titanic where that rich guy ends up not getting his diamond back. Or maybe the fact that Troy and Gabriella don't get shot in the face by a Sniper, causing their inevitable deaths, during High School Musical. Yes, it was that sad. Sadder than all the teen girls on twitter tweeting about He Who Must Not Be Named (Bieber) hoping he follows them because they are so insecure about their very being that they constantly need reassurance from a pathetic mimic of an idol through the most trivial manner possible. Sadder than when Vegeta dies on Dragonball Z. Sadder than when you lose to the Lance in the Elite Four, when you were so close to doing it, and one revive would have saved you.

The coach to Washington DC was four hours, and I listened to Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, naturally, and lots of the Doors and RATM. We stopped off at a Burger King for dinner, where we bet George that he couldn't down a cup of what would be a mixture of Iced Tea, Coke, Dr.Pepper, Lemonade, Ice, Fanta and lots of other stuff in one go. Alexej is an idiot when it comes to these things. He genuinely bet him $50, and only managed to escape on the formality that George didn't finish off the Ice Cubes.

The Washington Hotel was really nice. It was much smaller, so inevitably Elevator Riding became impossible, which was a great shame. But other than that it was good. They even had free internet on the two computers they had in the lobby. "What is the internet?", I hear you ask. I didn't know either. But believe me, I sure relished the opportunity to see how many Facebook notifications I had. "How many?", I hear you ask, with a sense of excitement and admiration for my brilliance, well let's just say it was approximately 31. It was that moment when I realised that I truly was the master of the internet. Nothing could stop my plans for world domination, as I updated my status like a true god of men. In an entirely unrelated note, I enjoy using sarcasm, I don't really take myself that seriously.

That was basically our day. I would like to reassure you that I genuinely don't think I am God of all men... or master of the internet. But one day, maybe. But I did die inside without the internet, in fairness. It's probably more important to me than breathing. I haven't checked, but I'm fairly certain that somewhere there is a wire that keeps me running connected to the internet.