So sometime last week I apparently tore a muscle around the left side of my ribs. For the past week I've been in some of the worst pain I've ever experienced, it's felt like my side has been on fire, I'm constantly exhausted and frequently dizzy from the pain. Thankfully it's getting better. This is unfortunate as I am now becoming more cognizant of the full weight I now bear upon me due to being an irresponsible bastard with a credit card.
I say this to add clarity to the state of mind I've been in when I made this decision.
Having recently moved out I swore to myself that I'd pare down on useless shit, broken electronics, and excess tchotchkes. I'm pretty much going broke as I severely underestimated the funds and random items required for living alone. Yet I couldn't help myself when I saw this son of a bitch sitting, buried under a pile of old turntables at the used record store in town.
I try explaining to the jailer of my wallet that I'm severely ill and in no way fit to be making large purchasing decisions. That any decision I could possibly make in his favor would be the result of exploitative and cruel coercion. He stared for a moment into the distance before glancing lustfully down at the wallet laid bare in front of him.
”I'm alright with that," he said grinning.
And then I offered him my credit card and it started raining.
So now I sit here, exhausted, nearly asleep and nigh breathless having hauled hundreds of pounds of laserdiscs in the middle of the night, up stairs, as it poured rain, my ribs feeling as though they're engulfed in napalm. I don't have the money for these, I CLEARLY don't have the space for these, and I don't even know if this damn thing works properly.
Not to mention the condition of the device itself. Apparently it's been dropped, the crack in the front is actually so bad the face droops into drive tray. Hence the cardboard wedged underneath so that it doesn't grind up against itself. Had I known this at the time I probably would have thought twice about this accursed thing. I'd test it but my CRT is still unplugged having just returned from repairs from some hack who refused to attempt calibrating it or even correcting slight flaws in the geometry. Additionally it's clearly been broken before as there's a sticker on the back advertising a local repair shop that doesn't even show up properly on google. On top of that I only just found out this damnable contraption doesn't support dolby digital output. Even if it did I'd need to acquire some kind of Star Trekesque "demodulater" in order to convert the signal to a modern receiver.
I just needed to vent. I'm fucking miserable right now and I have no idea how to store all of these things. I've literally run out of wall to lean them on. It's ridiculous.
Does anyone have any idea what a good storage solution might be for something like this? What in the hell do I even DO with this many of the damn things? A part of me thought about maybe lining the room with classic movies on laserdisc as if they were albums. How do I even care for these? How fucked am I in getting this thing to work?
Oh, and it didn't even come with a remote.
I say this to add clarity to the state of mind I've been in when I made this decision.
Having recently moved out I swore to myself that I'd pare down on useless shit, broken electronics, and excess tchotchkes. I'm pretty much going broke as I severely underestimated the funds and random items required for living alone. Yet I couldn't help myself when I saw this son of a bitch sitting, buried under a pile of old turntables at the used record store in town.
It looked broken as all hell but the manipulative shop owner tells me it works and it's only $40! "What a steal!" I tell myself. I've always wanted a Laserdisc player for some god forsaken reason. Likely because I've never found one in the wild. Let alone a goddamn working one. It's always had the air of something vintage and exotic. I don't know why I had such a fucking romantic attraction to the atmosphere of these things, maybe it was due to seeing them as a child and being enamored by how BIG AND SHINY these things are. I started rifling through the inordinate supply of movies on hand and picked a couple out to go with it. "$3 for each," he croons. A good enough deal for a small handful. Star Wars! Roger Rabbit! Indiana Jones! Then right as I'm about to check out he whispers gently, ”$50 just for these, or $200 for the whole lot."
I try explaining to the jailer of my wallet that I'm severely ill and in no way fit to be making large purchasing decisions. That any decision I could possibly make in his favor would be the result of exploitative and cruel coercion. He stared for a moment into the distance before glancing lustfully down at the wallet laid bare in front of him.
”I'm alright with that," he said grinning.
And then I offered him my credit card and it started raining.
So now I sit here, exhausted, nearly asleep and nigh breathless having hauled hundreds of pounds of laserdiscs in the middle of the night, up stairs, as it poured rain, my ribs feeling as though they're engulfed in napalm. I don't have the money for these, I CLEARLY don't have the space for these, and I don't even know if this damn thing works properly.
I lost count somewhere at around 300 individual titles. That's not 300 discs, just titles. That doesn't even account for some of the absurdities in here, like double copies, Indiana Jones on CAV, or an entire collection of Star Trek The Animated Series. What struck me the most about these bastards is just how heavy these fuckers are. Each disc alone weighs nearly a half pound, and almost every film is plastered across 2-3+ discs.
Not to mention the condition of the device itself. Apparently it's been dropped, the crack in the front is actually so bad the face droops into drive tray. Hence the cardboard wedged underneath so that it doesn't grind up against itself. Had I known this at the time I probably would have thought twice about this accursed thing. I'd test it but my CRT is still unplugged having just returned from repairs from some hack who refused to attempt calibrating it or even correcting slight flaws in the geometry. Additionally it's clearly been broken before as there's a sticker on the back advertising a local repair shop that doesn't even show up properly on google. On top of that I only just found out this damnable contraption doesn't support dolby digital output. Even if it did I'd need to acquire some kind of Star Trekesque "demodulater" in order to convert the signal to a modern receiver.
I just needed to vent. I'm fucking miserable right now and I have no idea how to store all of these things. I've literally run out of wall to lean them on. It's ridiculous.
Does anyone have any idea what a good storage solution might be for something like this? What in the hell do I even DO with this many of the damn things? A part of me thought about maybe lining the room with classic movies on laserdisc as if they were albums. How do I even care for these? How fucked am I in getting this thing to work?
Oh, and it didn't even come with a remote.
hunted this one of Army for the longest of times:
