We’ve been an Xbox house for less than 24 hours, and already my thumbs hurt. I am convinced that a whole generation of children is growing up with unprecedented thumb and forefinger agility – and with good reason. That thing could be as addictive as Pringles,. I plugged it in last night and lost two hours of my life. Just, gone. The next thing I know, Cheryl’s giving me a swat to the head.

“John, are you planning to sleep tonight?”
“Um, yeah.”
“John, did you hear what I said?”
“Um, yeah.”
“John, could you do some yard work this weekend?”
“WHAT?!? WHERE AM I?!? WHAT’S HAPPENING?!?”

“Yeah, my Jimmy isn’t much of a reader, but he’s a wicked good shot in Splinter Cell!” It’s too bad there’s no way to take advantage of all this training later in life. The minute we can perform labor inexpensively via remote hand controller, this nation will have the best damn work force, period.

Look out Far East, here comes the Play Station Generation.