If only there were some institution full of independently minded individuals who could tell us, plainly and evenhandedly, without undue influence, about products we might be interested in.
I bought Ween's Brown Box collection in this period. A band's entire studio output on CD for $50 felt like a great value. When I see single CDs at Barnes and Noble with a MSRP of $18 and more I feel otherwise.
He has a Lightphone which he hates. That's how I know it is working. He built a gaming PC last year, so I am aware that Pandora's box is open there. But look, it has been thirteen years of playing whackamole with YouTube. I can't keep him off it. They watch it at school. They give him chromebooks that I have no control over. And the stuff I do have control over the control is tenuous. I have largely given up. He is pretty much grown now. But man, has it felt like gaslighting when people are like, "Do parenting. Use the settings. Get a dumb phone. Problem solved."
You're the pro. But as a casual observer, games tend to have menus with lots of settings options. Every other bit of software I use has next to none. Totally anecdotal, so I totally understand that my view is probably skewed. Keep up the good work?
I keep observing that accessibility features often contain the tools we need to make our devices and apps more humane. This is one area that video games have been way ahead on.
Your collection or wishlist, printed onto standard 63 × 88 mm game cards. Movies, books, board games, video games, comics: don't look at your phone to decide what to watch next, when you can shuffle cards and let fate decide (*)
The Backrooms kid got to spend three years working on a project he was clearly passionate about. He wasn't chasing clicks, creating daily content to keep the algorithm happy or worrying about ever mysterious ebb and flow of Google's payouts. He had an agent and manager that got him a deal and probably points on profit and who will make sure he gets paid. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.