Beware the one-sandaled men

Photos courtesy of Tevas.


There are certain colors that you know will fade
Almost immediately after purchasing
A crimson lake about to drown itself in dirty brown
A sky blue, cloudy with a chance of looking like shit
Andrew Lloyd Webber’s ochre, sandwiched between black and peach
It’s like you can see a future filled with disappointment
Wrapping itself around the optimism of a pair of bright sandals
That dare to set the bar too high.

Trent wears Cayambe navy multis.
He wants to suck the juice out of life.
He “knows the world eats idealists, but damn…”
He says there’s something beautiful about the gap
Between expectation…

A nightmare from your childhood, this Mario exists to break you. But you’ll find meaning in the pain.

Illustration: Erik Hinton

Every night for the past several weeks, a cheerful, plump plumber arrives at my apartment and brutalizes me. Sometimes, his overalls are blue, other times red, but his cruel smile is constant. His mustache never changes. Something has gone bad with this version of Nintendo’s enduring, pipe-diving mascot Mario. He’s been modified, his game hacked into a nightmarishly difficult torture chamber that I have foolishly dedicated myself to successfully navigating.

I have decided to learn how to play “kaizo” Mario.

These are fan-made versions of Nintendo titles you might recognize, like Super Mario Bros. 3 or Super Mario World, and…

‘They spin, buffer, and refresh endlessly, searching for something that isn’t out there’

Credit: wacomka/Getty Images

I’m starting to worry about the well-being of my apps. Lately, they feel anxious. These sophisticated tangles of software that knit my life into something workable are coming apart at the seams. They spin, buffer, and refresh endlessly, searching for something that isn’t out there, breaking themselves in the process. I’m not sure how much more of this they can take.

I began noticing that my programs were cracking up when a regression in the Spotify app threw my commute into chaos. Those of you who don’t spend your lives underground in a city like New York, slowly entombed by…

A letter from the future

Credit: Mike Kemp/Getty

Dear Reader,

If I tell you that I’m writing this letter from 2069, what do you imagine? Am I curled over a gleaming white desk in a hypermodern cube that’s lofted some impressive stack of stories into a sky filled with floating cars? Am I painted like a rainbow by a tapestry of neon lights, the electric dreams of future men still in the form of those noble gasses of the past? …

Erik Hinton

Interactive developer and journalist @medium. Taught ‘The Politics of Interactive News’ @TheNewSchool. Formerly @The_O_C_R @NYTimes @outline @WSJ.

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