Armagideon Time

Posts tagged ‘existential dread’

The road tree not taken

February 2nd, 2018

The Great Videogame Crash of 1983 was a industry-wide catastrophe that toppled titans, shuttered studios, and caused pennies-on-the-dollar inventory dumping on a colossal scale. The collapse seemed to confirm suspicious that videogames were just a passing fad and effectively flatlined the home console market for years. When Nintendo attempted to resuscitate the American market with […]

My relationship with the freshman sculptress lasted all of six weeks. In hindsight, it was pretty clearly doomed from the start. There were too many irreconcilable differences between us, though my raging hormones and the exhilaration of a fresh romance kept me from noticing any ominous portents on the horizon. She was a Boston Latin […]

Everything old is older again

January 11th, 2018

While last Tuesday’s post gave me no small satisfaction, I felt convinced the formula could be improved by selecting a temporal window with a higher payload of reminders of my core demographic’s fleeting mortality. With that in mind, let’s take an existentially fraught trip through SPIN’s January 1998 issue — released twenty years ago this […]

On days like today, when faced with real-life horrors perpetrated by real-life monsters, it can be difficult to indulge in silly frivolities about ghosts and ghoulies. I’ve whistled past plenty of graveyards in my limetime, but the sheer enormity of events can overwhelm even the most centered (or jaded) of us. I start wondering “what […]

All the reminiscing about the “good” old days lately has set my thoughts wandering into some weird and uncomfortable territory. Dredge a stagnant pool and all manner of stink is going to surface. In my case, it’s a lot of painfully embarrassing crap reeking of ancient regret. It’s stuff had been resolved — for better […]

Do you remember?

September 14th, 2017

Hüsker Dü filled the same niche for me that Depeche Mode or the Cure filled for other alt-leaning Gen X teens, a vicarious vehicle for the sentimental side of adolescent angst. I discovered them through an episode of 21 Jump Street, where a promo poster for Zen Arcade hung prominently in a safe-for-TV “punk rock” […]

The two months following my mother’s death felt longer than the sixteen years before it and the twenty-nine years since. The psychic wound was so raw, the trauma so unprecedented, that even the the most minute details permanently imprinted themselves into my memory. I spent the night of her death at a paternal aunt’s house, […]

By the end of the past spring, my K-Tel obsession had lost a good deal of its momentum. I’d already picked up the most obvious and essential compilations and my interest had started to drift toward cowpunk and Paisley Underground obscurities that went overlooked during my Nineties vinyl collecting days. The few K-Tel releases I […]

The autumn of 1988 was an oasis of calm before the impending shitstorm. My family’s dysfunctions had metastasized into a weird state of equilibrium. My mother was still a basket case and my father was still out of control, but there was a sense that the situation had leveled out just enough for me to […]

While 1987 had been a non-stop shopping spree of (mostly ill-advised) game purchases, 1988 ended up being very subdued on that front. My family’s dysfunctions had begun to enter their terminal phase, marked by violent outbursts which made me increasingly reluctant to have friends over. Money became tight. My brother and I lost the paper […]

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