Another secret subculture exposed to the merciless rays of perception, lets hope it can survive.
When I was a kid we only had COCONUTS! (harrumph.)
To me this seems terribly silly, however i have quite a few hobbies that i know other people see as weird or a waste of time/money. Its not a bad thing if i don’t get it, clearly the people involved in this scene care about it a lot and i would never want to take that away from them or diminish their enjoyment. Also life is much better when people aren’t taking themselves and everything so seriously and they allow themselves to enjoy some silliness.
I heard about this a few years ago as the true story on “Bluff the Listener” on NPR’s Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me.
I’m reminded of those people who play “Quidditch,” running around with a broom between their legs throwing balls. But this feels less dorky* and more creative, less competitive and more communal/playful.
*Not that I have a problem with dorky.
Yep, I have to agree with folks. At first I thought it was weird, then I said “hey, they’re having fun, doing something crafty, getting exercise, enjoying themselves. . . this is really cool actually.” Good for them, and good for Boing Boing users, who are far more enlightened than other places might be about the things people do for fun. This is totally wholesome and awesome.
Oh, I know this one.
That’s a hell of an impressive jump @1:55
my sister was renowned for riding her space hopper over jumps with the family dog… that’s all we know
I had a stick horse. His name was Red and I loved him. I think he is still at my moms…
Hm. Do you recommend this?
The Diamond Age? Its a great book.
Probably about 8/10 among the works of Neal Stephenson. Perhaps it can be viewed as a prototype of Anathem.
Now on my list. I’m reading Brin’s Existence currently.
So this is what we do in the shadows…
This feels NSFW, for some reason.
That would be pony girls. Totally different.
The thing this keeps evoking in my mind is:
And in the night the walls disappeared
In the day they returned
‘I want to be a rider like my father’
Were the only words I could say
And when I’m dead
If you could tell them this
That what was wood became alive
What was wood became alive
- Wooden Horse, Suzanne Vega
Reminds me of the live quidditch players. I think it’s the similarlity of the hobbyhorse yo the broom.