the tech inside your credit card, explained

🕰️ It all started in the 1940s…

Legend has it, in 1949, a man named Frank McNamara went out to dinner in New York, realized he forgot his wallet, and did what any great innovator would do: got embarrassed and invented a financial revolution. Thus, the Diners Club Card was born — the first credit card. At first, it was basically just a “gentleman’s IOU,” used at fancy restaurants so you could pretend to be rich while actually being very much not.


💳 The 1950s-60s: Birth of Plastic Fantastic

By the late ‘50s, Bank of America decided IOUs were for amateurs and launched the BankAmericard (later known as Visa). It was sent to random Californians like a financial bomb — unsolicited, physical cards mailed with zero consent, just vibes. It was the original “you’ve been pre-approved,” except you didn’t ask, didn’t want it, and now you owe $500.

This was the era when banks realized, “Wait a second… what if we charged people… for borrowing their own future money?”


📈 The 1980s: Interest Rates and Wild Capitalism

Credit cards really took off during the age of big hair, big shoulder pads, and even bigger debt. The marketing was seductive: “Buy now, pay later… or never, as long as you’re okay with 22.99% APR.”

Consumers didn’t blink — they were too busy buying cassette tapes, microwaves, and other artifacts of modern living. The phrase “minimum payment” became financial code for “this problem is Future Me’s responsibility.”


📱 The 2000s and Beyond: Tap, Swipe, Cry

Enter the digital age. Cards got chips, then they got “contactless,” and now you can just wave your phone at a terminal like a financial wizard. Spending money has literally never been easier — or more terrifying.

Meanwhile, credit scores became the adult version of GPA, but with more existential dread: “Want a house? Better hope your teenage self didn’t miss that Hot Topic store card payment in 2008.”


💡 In conclusion:

Credit cards are humanity’s way of saying:

“I want it now, I’ll worry later, and please don’t show me the statement.”

They’re a magical portal to convenience, a slippery slope to debt, and an iconic symbol of modern life — like jeans, but with late fees.

The Ultimate Imagic/Atari 2600 Tier List – ALL RELEASED GAMES RANKED

Ah, iMagic — the game developer that sounds like a magician got lost on their way to an Apple Store.

This was a company forged in the golden, lava-lamp-lit age of the early 1980s, when every game idea was apparently greenlit with the question, “What if we made it… sparkly?” Founded by ex-Atari employees (read: rebels with a joystick), iMagic was part of the original console wars — back when pixels were a bragging point and “16 colors” was considered high-tech wizardry.

They cranked out titles for the Atari 2600 and Intellivision with names like Demon Attack, Atlantis, and Dragonfire, which all sound like heavy metal albums or energy drinks your mom warned you about. The games themselves were basically fever dreams: aliens swooping, dragons spitting fire, and cities blowing up with all the subtlety of a Saturday morning cartoon.

In the early ’80s, iMagic rocketed to fame faster than a kid mashing the fire button. Their games looked slightly better than Atari’s — a fact they clung to like a life raft on the pixelated sea of competition. But alas, the Video Game Crash of 1983 hit them harder than a poorly timed laser blast in Demon Attack, and iMagic vanished from the scene faster than your older cousin when it’s time to share the controller.

In short: iMagic was like the glam rock band of early game developers — flashy, bold, gone too soon, and still making retro gamers sigh dreamily into their CRT monitors.

Yes, Cassettes still rule.

Collecting cassettes is like adopting a bunch of tiny plastic pets that constantly remind you how old you’re getting, yet somehow make you feel impossibly cool—like a time-traveling DJ who refuses to update their Spotify. There’s the thrill of rewinding with a pencil (the original fidget spinner), the satisfying clunk when one slots into your Walkman like a key to a nostalgia portal, and the mysterious joy of finding that one mixtape labeled “Road Trip ’94” that turns out to be three Enya songs and your cousin whispering into the mic. It’s impractical, it’s fragile, it hisses at you—but hey, so do most of our best relationships.

Doug DeMuro Ranks Every V12 Lamborghini Flagship Car

Lamborghini’s history with V12 engines begins, naturally, with a grudge match and a tractor. Ferruccio Lamborghini, a wealthy Italian tractor magnate, got annoyed when his Ferrari kept breaking down. When he politely suggested Enzo Ferrari build better cars (read: when he insulted his clutch to his face), Enzo basically told him to stick to farming. Ferruccio, fueled by spite and probably a fine Barolo, decided that if Ferrari wouldn’t build the perfect grand touring car, he’d just do it himself. Thus, in 1963, Lamborghini Automobili was born — and like any angry Italian revenge fantasy, it started with a 12-cylinder scream.

The V12 became Lamborghini’s middle finger in engine form: massive, beautiful, and completely impractical for things like “fuel efficiency” or “quiet conversation.” The first one, designed by Giotto Bizzarrini (a man who probably wore sunglasses at night), was meant to be a Formula One engine but was detuned slightly for street use — because who doesn’t want their daily driver to sound like it’s qualifying at Monza? From the Miura to the Countach to the Aventador, Lamborghini has been stuffing 12 angry Italian cylinders into their cars like it’s a religion. Other brands downsized, turbocharged, hybridized — Lamborghini said, “No, grazie,” and just added more carbon fiber and louder exhausts. It’s not an engine; it’s a tantrum with pistons.

Retro Buyer’s Guide: Portable CD Players!

It all started innocently enough — just trying to find a Discman to play that one scratched-up mix CD from high school labeled “Ultimate Feels Vol. 2.” But one late-night eBay scroll turned into a rabbit hole of vintage Sony Discman models, anti-skip bragging rights, and forums full of middle-aged warriors debating whether the ESP Max on a 2001 Panasonic was better than the Mega Bass on a ’98 Aiwa. Suddenly, I wasn’t just reliving my youth — I was negotiating shipping rates with a guy in Slovakia for a translucent blue Sanyo with “futuristic” top-loading action. My family hasn’t made eye contact with me since the “Unboxing of the JVC XL-PG5,” which I filmed in full 4K and narrated like it was a nature documentary.

Now I judge people not by their music taste, but by whether they know that a lid-lock mechanism was the true sign of luxury in 2003. My bookshelf used to hold novels and framed photos — now it’s a shrine to circular plastic marvels that came with belt clips nobody used and headphone jacks engineered to break under a stiff breeze. I listen to CDs like it’s a sacred ritual, holding the player level with two hands like a pizza so the laser doesn’t skip during Track 4 (bonus acoustic version). Sure, Spotify’s easier, but where’s the thrill in that? If your music doesn’t come with the constant threat of sudden silence and AA battery bankruptcy, are you even really listening?

Interview: Dorian Hart on Looking Glass Studios & Irrational Games

🎮 Games Dorian Hart Worked On

🧙‍♂️ Ultima Underworld II: Labyrinth of Worlds (1993)

Dorian’s journey began with this immersive dungeon crawler. It was like D&D, but your party was just you, and the dungeon was a maze designed by someone who hated you.

🤖 System Shock (1994)

A pioneering first-person shooter where you battled a rogue AI named SHODAN. It was like arguing with your smart toaster, but the toaster had lasers and a god complex.

🚀 Terra Nova: Strike Force Centauri (1996)

As the lead designer, Dorian crafted this tactical shooter with powered armor suits. Think of it as “Mechs Gone Wild,” but with more strategy and fewer spring breaks.

🕵️ Thief: The Dark Project (1998)

Dorian helped design this stealth game where you played as a master thief. It taught players that the best way to deal with guards was to hide in shadows and hope they had poor peripheral vision.

🧟 System Shock 2 (1999)

He returned to the world of rogue AIs and added zombies to the mix. Because nothing says “fun” like being chased by undead cyborgs in zero gravity.

🦸 Freedom Force vs. The 3rd Reich (2005)

Dorian co-led the design of this superhero strategy game. It was like a comic book come to life, complete with over-the-top villains and heroes who shouted their attack names.

🃏 Card Hunter (2013)

Combining tabletop RPGs with collectible card games, Dorian helped create this love letter to nerd culture. It was like playing D&D with cards, minus the snack crumbs on your character sheet.

Tour of ** NEW ** Pink Gorilla GAME STORE in Las Vegas!

Pink Gorilla Games has leveled up with a brand new location in Las Vegas! Take a behind-the-scenes tour of the store w/ Kelsey before it opened to the public, then stick around for the grand opening chaos complete with good vibes & packed video game shelves.

Las Vegas is the only place on Earth where you can lose your life savings, your dignity, and your luggage—all before lunch—and still think, “What a great vacation!” It’s a city powered almost entirely by neon, regret, and a cocktail of bad decisions served in a souvenir yardstick cup. Where else can you eat pancakes next to a guy in a tuxedo and a woman dressed as Pikachu while a bachelorette party screams in the background? It’s like someone designed a city after binge-watching infomercials and drinking Red Bull for 72 hours straight.

Vegas is where logic comes to die and Elvis impersonators multiply like rabbits. It’s the only place where a man can get married by a zombie pirate at 3 a.m. and divorced by brunch without ever changing out of his flip-flops. You’ll find luxury hotels designed to look like ancient Rome, Venice, and Paris—if those places were rebuilt by a committee of slot machines. And the best part? What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, mostly because even Vegas doesn’t want to remember what you did.

Good thing I opened this brand new PSP!!

QUICK BONUS VIDEO: The Sony PSP battery—proof that sometimes, portable gaming meant “portable explosive device.”

In the mid-2000s, the PSP was the sleekest thing around. You felt like a tech god holding that black mirror of power. But little did we know… inside that shiny shell lurked a ticking time bomb disguised as a lithium-ion battery.

At First:
The battery was a loyal sidekick. Gave you a solid 3–5 hours of Lumines, God of War, or pirated UMD movies. You charged it, drained it, charged it again, and it always came back like a faithful puppy.

Then One Day…
You open the PSP case, and—WHAT IN THE POLYGONAL HELL IS THAT? The battery has puffed up like a marshmallow in a microwave. It looks like it’s trying to escape its own plastic prison. Your sleek PSP now has a weird bulge, like it grew a tumor from too much Monster Hunter.

The Danger:
Experts said, “Don’t puncture it.” So naturally, millions of teens went full MythBusters with a paperclip to see what happens. Spoiler: nothing good. At best, it hissed like a furious cat. At worst, spontaneous combustion. Congrats! You turned your handheld console into a grenade.

Sony’s Official Response?
“Oh, uh… yeah. If your battery swells up like a balloon at a kid’s party, maybe stop using it. You can send it in for a replacement!”
Cool, thanks, Sony—let me just find my 2005 receipt and fax you my soul.

The Aftermath:
To this day, PSP batteries are hiding in drawers across the world, slowly inflating like tiny chemical balloons of doom. If you hear a faint hiss coming from your closet, don’t worry—it’s just your PSP trying to take you out one last time.

It was the first handheld console that doubled as a gaming device and a potential fire hazard. Truly, the PSP was ahead of its time.

My Favorite Retro PC Games (and how to play them today)

I’m diving into the Golden Age of PC gaming (Win98/XP) and sharing some of my favorite retro PC games and how to play them today! These games have a timeless appeal and still resonate with players!

GAMES SHOWN:
No One Lives Forever 1 & 2
NOX
Star Trek Voyager: Elite Force 1 & 2
Gabriel Knight: Sins of the Father
Vampire the Masquerade Bloodlines
Thief 1 & 2

PC gaming in the late ’90s and early 2000s—a time when computers were beige, monitors were deeper than they were wide, and installing a game meant you were probably going to war… not in-game, but with your system’s drivers.

Graphics Cards
You weren’t just a gamer; you were an amateur electrician. Want to play Half-Life? Better make a blood sacrifice to the gods of DirectX and hope your Voodoo2 card doesn’t start smoking. Oh, and if you had a TNT2 or, dare we say, a GeForce—congrats, you were the king of the LAN party (more on that chaos in a sec).

Game Installations
Games came on 4 CDs or, if you were lucky, a single glorious DVD-ROM. You’d click “Install” and then go make a sandwich, take a nap, and maybe grow a beard while the progress bar pretended to move. And woe to you if you lost Disc 2. That game was now just a very shiny coaster.

Internet Gaming
Online multiplayer meant two things: dial-up and lag. You’d be mid-Quake III Arena duel when your mom picked up the phone and boom, connection gone. Entire friendships were lost over 56k modems and someone yelling, “Stop downloading music, I’m trying to play StarCraft!”

Sound Cards
If you heard your game in surround sound, that meant you either had a Sound Blaster Live! or your rich friend did. Everyone else? Enjoyed Duke Nukem through the soothing buzz of mono PC speaker bleeps.

System Requirements
Every game box came with specs written in a language only wizards understood: “Pentium II 266 MHz, 64MB RAM, 3D accelerator required.” You’d read it and think, “I might be able to run this if I close Microsoft Word first.”

Ah, it was messy, it was glitchy, it was wonderful—and somehow, games felt like magic despite everything trying to stop them from running.

JRPGLive – Our Greatest Nintendo 3DS Find of All Time

Ah, the Nintendo 3DS — the magical little clamshell that dared to say, “What if your eyeballs could do squats?” Released in 2011, this handheld wonder came with glasses-free 3D, which was either a mind-blowing leap into the future or a fast track to a mild headache, depending on how steady your hands and how forgiving your optic nerves were. You’d slide that 3D depth slider up just to say you did, marvel at Mario’s floating mustache for ten seconds, then immediately slide it back down and never touch it again. But the real charm wasn’t in the gimmicks — it was in the games, which were so good they made you forget the bottom screen was mostly used to poke at maps like a high-tech pirate.

The 3DS had everything: a weirdly effective StreetPass system that turned walking through malls into RPG side quests, a camera that took grainy 3D selfies (so you could finally see yourself disappointed in depth), and a library bursting with hits — Fire Emblem: Awakening, Pokémon X/Y, Animal Crossing: New Leaf, and enough Monster Hunter to destroy your thumb joints before age 30. The thing looked like a toy, sounded like a toy, but punched like a heavyweight champ in a hardware match. It even had backward compatibility with DS games, because Nintendo is the kind of friend who lets you borrow all their old stuff without even asking. The 3DS wasn’t just a handheld console — it was a pocket-sized party, a nostalgia grenade, and an eye-melting miracle all at once.

Retro Gaming with a Heavy Metal Soundtrack