GROWING up pre-internet provided a wealth of opportunities to aggravate your family and community that technology has snatched away:
Knock and Run, ruined by Ring doorbells
No matter what name it goes by, even ‘nicky nicky nine doors’, the game was the same: knock on a door, run away, annoy a householder. Especially hilarious with the elderly and infirm. But now every other doorbell is a camera nobody even has to remove their arse from its groove on the sofa to know it is only kids being dicks.
Cadging fags, ruined by vaping
In happier times when everyone smoked, cigarettes were freely available. Steal one or two from your dad, mum, older brother, teacher or babysitter and they’d never notice, giving you hours of nicotine acclimatisation fun down the local park. Thieving a big luminous smoke machine is noticed basically immediately.
Lying about your location, ruined by GPS
In the 70s, parents didn’t want to know where you were. In the 80s they began to pretend to care and the 90s were a boom time for lying. The I’m-at-hers-she’s-at-mine sleepover, the truancy, the Christian youth five-a-side football league that was actually drinking in the park. Now one click on a parental phone and your lie is exposed.
Permanently borrowing your mates’ video games, ruined by downloads
It’s 2013. Your best mate has just got a PS3. You reasonably point out he won’t be playing much Final Fantasy X now and ask him if you can borrow it. 12 years later it’s still on your shelf. In the present day? A game cannot be lent because a game is not owned, only streamed and downloaded, and since you last looked they cost 80 f**king quid.
Poor taste in heroes, ruined by social media
Whether bleaching your hair to be Eminem or adopting a Mancunian accent to be Liam Gallagher, every teen had a phase of being someone else. But the rise of social media means teenagers no longer spend four months being Sylvia Plath to piss off their parents and instead pretend to be an influencer who’s pretending to be a more successful influencer.
The power of owning a porn tape, ruined by the internet
Before even Babestation, the owner of a third or fourth-hand VHS of pornography was a king. Invited to every house party as long as he brought his precious possession, he knew it so well he could recite the German dialogue. His gift was life-changing. Technology may have made wanking easier, but at what cost? There’s no sense of community anymore.
