My fingers twitched as I struggled to remember the sequence of buttons on my grandfather's old VHS recorder, now proudly displayed beside the new 5K 4K whatever it's called. As a self-proclaimed genius who'd written 27 tweets about the benefits of analog life – much to the disdain of my followers who'd rather watch the world burn – I had decided to hold a seminar explaining the importance of VHS. Things escalated quickly when I pressed both the eject and record buttons simultaneously, causing a tangled mess of wires to ensnare my tie and send the remote flying into the projector's bright light, casting a miniature eclipse over the audience. They looked on in silence as I valiantly tried to untangle the disaster, sweat glistening under my perfectly styled hair – all perfectly in line with my VHS revival ethos, until that embarrassing pause during which it became eerily clear why no one was taking this lecture seriously.
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