When the cultists descend from the Mountains, they’ll find my dessicated corpse next to the Xbox 360. If they’re willing to interact with the rot-flesh, perchance they could save my game. One last final save of my Mass Effect 3 playthrough, sending the file to a cloud server that no longer heeded requests. This is the way the world ends. A landfill of forgotten files on servers, leftover Netflix subscriptions no longer churning out endless episodes of Twin Peaks. Oh, I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying. This is Monday Morning Commute. The column where all us barely-evolved monkeys with keys to the Nanoverse share the things that are entertaining us on a given week. What are you partaking in this week, you turkeys?

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