Readers shocked the Shallot today with e-mails aflutter stating how proud they were to see me mentioned in today's David Pogue column. Well, sorry friendos. That ain't me. Must be another Adam Baer. Maybe the installation artist who wants me to give up the domain name adambaer.com -- you know, the guy about whom I once pitched Wired an Internet Doppelganger story.
The question is shooting through Hollywood's power corridors this morning, and we're here to report on the phenomenon. Apparently, directors have wasted most of the modern film era trying to tell stories on a one-dimensional screen one could watch when in fact they should have been writing search-for-the-missing-items video games as movies that come straight at your eyes like that bus that almost flattened you co-worker this morning on Wilshire. I mean, do all these directors from the past realize how much they forced us to miss out on? Did they really think that by letting us watch creatively etched narratives told in moving pictures -- or hell, showing us finely drawn classic cartoons -- that we would be able to use our imaginations and draw distinctions between real life and the movies? Clearly, no one had a second to think about how much better it would be to just throw us all into some simulated virtual world with thin scripts and mindless role-playing so fully realized that we'd find our lives even more boring than they objectively remain. Oh, Coraline. Where you have been all these years?