Saturday, May 24, 2003
And then they started playing Twister.
I, as an alien in England, am not really familiar with the concept. I have seen it played in films, but it was the first time I was in the presence of a proper game.
It wasn't dangerous.
It wasn't even subversive.
But it's weird.
First of all, the rules:
1. Spread the mat faceup on a flat surface, indoors or outdoors.
2. Players take off their shoes and set them aside. If you're playing outdoors, you may want to anchor the mat corners with your shoes.
3. Designate an extra person as the referee. The referee is not considered a player; during the game, the referee will spin the spinner, call out the moves, and monitor the game play.
4. Position yourselves on the mat.
So far so good. And then:
The referee spins the spinner, then calls out the body part and the color that the arrow points to. For example, the referee may call out: "Right hand, red." All players, at the same time, must then try to follow the referee's directions.
Imagine, if you will, three soon-to-be-ex-university students sprawled onto the floor according to the rules above, trying to reeeeach. In my opinion, the popularity of this game is due to either:
a) the physicality of it all: it is an acceptable excuse for groping
b) the voyeuristic opportunities it presents for the viewer: girls in skirts who play Twister cannot help but exposing themselves
or
c) that it presents the opportunity for people to laugh themselves silly over the stupidity of each other's positions.
I choose to believe c), of course. Another good thing about Twister is that one can easily break wind and blame it on someone else, I guess.
Torsten Silke's Twister Pages explores the subject of Twister in depth, so have a look before your next student party!
Otherwise Mike has a pretty accurate description of the evening:
The couple on the sofa saved my retinas by moving into the bathroom and fucking in the sink. One of them may have thrown up afterwards. All they left was a half bottle of wine and a single garden pea.
Students! I'm gonna miss you guys.
I, as an alien in England, am not really familiar with the concept. I have seen it played in films, but it was the first time I was in the presence of a proper game.
It wasn't dangerous.
It wasn't even subversive.
But it's weird.
First of all, the rules:
1. Spread the mat faceup on a flat surface, indoors or outdoors.
2. Players take off their shoes and set them aside. If you're playing outdoors, you may want to anchor the mat corners with your shoes.
3. Designate an extra person as the referee. The referee is not considered a player; during the game, the referee will spin the spinner, call out the moves, and monitor the game play.
4. Position yourselves on the mat.
So far so good. And then:
The referee spins the spinner, then calls out the body part and the color that the arrow points to. For example, the referee may call out: "Right hand, red." All players, at the same time, must then try to follow the referee's directions.
Imagine, if you will, three soon-to-be-ex-university students sprawled onto the floor according to the rules above, trying to reeeeach. In my opinion, the popularity of this game is due to either:
a) the physicality of it all: it is an acceptable excuse for groping
b) the voyeuristic opportunities it presents for the viewer: girls in skirts who play Twister cannot help but exposing themselves
or
c) that it presents the opportunity for people to laugh themselves silly over the stupidity of each other's positions.
I choose to believe c), of course. Another good thing about Twister is that one can easily break wind and blame it on someone else, I guess.
Torsten Silke's Twister Pages explores the subject of Twister in depth, so have a look before your next student party!
Otherwise Mike has a pretty accurate description of the evening:
The couple on the sofa saved my retinas by moving into the bathroom and fucking in the sink. One of them may have thrown up afterwards. All they left was a half bottle of wine and a single garden pea.
Students! I'm gonna miss you guys.
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