- 880
- Chesterfield
- DEKOWOLF
GTPlanet vs. Wham! Episode IV: No More Hope
- Thread starter Daniel
- 1,044 comments
- 37,333 views
- 1,519
- Brighton
- Pluxtheduck
Just dodged a bullet, got the NOW ad come up on my laptop and managed to mute before it played Wham at me... Still in!
- 13,047
- United Kingdom
I know how you feel. I heard Gabrielle Aplin playing before swiftly muting and quitting the tab.
- 14,045
- Ireland
- driftking18594
- CiaranGTR94
Unless there's some rule stating that you can't post unfunny videos in the "Funny Videos Thread", I've been Whammed! If I were to express how I feel right now, especially regarding the vile little troll who posted that video, I'd probably violate the AUP.
- 13,047
- United Kingdom
Yup, I agree. @DK, re-instate yourself, I shall remove the video and commit Whamicide, as this is now the second low blow I have done in November. I will still play the game, but just be out. Spur of the moment ideas are bad. It might have been better this time next month, but not now.
My Whamicide involved watching the video with the sound on.
- 7,436
- Canada
- photonrider
It's a matter of life or death, David. There's a few too many early birds getting the wham, though. And I think Jimlaad has gone officially whamsane.
- 2,436
- Eastern PA
- Weather_Systems
Very very very very close call today, and I know what store to avoid now...
Went to Kmart with my mom to get some cat food, among other things. First thing I notice when I walked in was the Christmas music being played... which should have been a sign to go back in the car.
I'm in the (miniscule) cold foods section looking for a decent gallon of milk to get. Like an idiot (and because I had been driving earlier) I hadn't thought to bring the iPod and headphones with me.
Lo and behold... I hear the fateful words over the sound system...
~Last Christmas, I gave you my heart...
...but sung in a woman's voice, thank God. Either the Taylor Swift or Ariana Grande covers. (Which is just as bad as the original, take my word for it.)
What have I learned? Not to go anywhere for the next month. (Except to go get Gran Turismo 6.)
Went to Kmart with my mom to get some cat food, among other things. First thing I notice when I walked in was the Christmas music being played... which should have been a sign to go back in the car.
I'm in the (miniscule) cold foods section looking for a decent gallon of milk to get. Like an idiot (and because I had been driving earlier) I hadn't thought to bring the iPod and headphones with me.
Lo and behold... I hear the fateful words over the sound system...
~Last Christmas, I gave you my heart...
...but sung in a woman's voice, thank God. Either the Taylor Swift or Ariana Grande covers. (Which is just as bad as the original, take my word for it.)
What have I learned? Not to go anywhere for the next month. (Except to go get Gran Turismo 6.)
- 47
- Ferrara, Italy
- gardo91fe
Nearly got Wham!med this evening: of all the thing I could have done, decided to go to (the closest thing we have that resembles) a pub, famous for having a bazillion of TVs tuned to an all-music channel!
Luckily, today is karaoke time! Aside from having to hear some pretty bad howling, i'm safe!
Guess i'll have to change my hangouts...
Luckily, today is karaoke time! Aside from having to hear some pretty bad howling, i'm safe!
Guess i'll have to change my hangouts...
- 7,436
- Canada
- photonrider
This game is changing the face of reality. How many destinies are being mutilated because of people changing their lifestyles? 
- 7,226
- beyond down under
- Skython11
No no no no... You don't go out to get GT6. Online preorders were made for a reason. To stop GTP members getting Whammed in November/December.
- 3,694
- South Australia
My older brother was around and thought that watching a late '80s music countdown would be a good idea. He pressed the button just in time for me to hear that dreadful tune and see "Wham: Last Christmas #89" in the bottom corner as it started to fade out. Whammed two :censored:ing years in a row 
- 2,436
- Eastern PA
- Weather_Systems
For this (GT6) and only this I will make the effort of going out into the real world.
Gran Turismo 6 > Possibility of getting Whammed. And, even then... I'll use my (nonfunctioning) noise-canceling over-the-ear pair of headphones. I may look like someone from the 90's, but hey... bad looks are a small price to pay for safety.
- 7,436
- Canada
- photonrider
This is for all the new members here who have never played this game, and for others who don't know what the hell is going on.
Playing the game of Wham! is all about daring.
Derring do.
Playing Chicken.
Dare you.
Like, wow, basically, dodge it.
It's our subconscious urge to control the Universe, at least one small part of it - the personal world we inhabit.
You'd think it was easy to dodge a song. If we throw ourselves back a few hundred years - even just a few generations, and you told someone - 'Dare you to dodge Wham! this Christmas!' they'd go like: 'WTF? WTF's Christmas, what this Wham!🤬?' or some equivalent.
Not today. Today we have no power. It's out of our hands. If you live a normal life - there is no doubt you can even completely refute the existence of George Michael - you will hear it.
Last Christmas.
Like, totally.
Cover or original, one way or another - and behold! It even cometh in the shape of a jingle - you will be whammed one wham or another.
No 'Thank You! Ma'am'.
Either.
Like totally 'wow'.
No 🤬
So when you do beat it - when you can actually stick your finger up your nose in the classic 'Nope' and so 'No' to the Universe - 'No, you will not take my power away from me - What? - I cannot decide to not hear a piece of music I don't want to hear? I am controlled, corralled, inhibited, and force-fed by the media in every sort of fashion that I must listen this particular piece of music every year? No. No! NOPE!!'
When you actually get away with it is when you have empowered yourself somehow.
You've given yourself back the power to not do, or not be made to do, something you have deliberately decided you're not going to have done to you.
Why George Michael? Because, as Daniel outlined in the first Wham! Challenge - you can't get away from this particular song. It's very popular. It symbolises the concept of mass hypnotism, the death of the individual. I don't think it has reached the amount of covers that Bing's White Christmas has . . . but it's getting there. You can't get away from it. It pervades the air - albiet in only certain countries - mostly where the language of this Forum is spoken natively. Well, the words are in English, anyway - so you might have a problem calling this a dare if you were living in Timbuktu and listening to FM Timbuktu 1.02.
TBH - I'm not really sure about that, either. One should never underestimate the power of Wham! - the whammage could be widespread, and there may be even the odd radio station in Bethlehem that might play some version of it.
I gave you my heart. You crucified me.
So . . . to put it in short: Dodging Wham!'s Last Christmas is difficult, dodging the covers even more so - whatever even more so than difficult is.
Next to impossible, anyway.
Like totally, totally 'Wow!'
But to get the 'zing' of this whole challenge - let me put what it's all about in story form:
Story of my life, of course, from a few days ago:
Imagine me, a general contractor, walking into a deserted diner (a 'greasy spoon' as axletramp would call it) closed for business at that time, and all I had to do there was a 20 minute, maybe half-hour inspection and estimate.
Place is quiet, sixteen four-chair tables all neatly laid out, equipment against a wall, counters all bare, two massive fridges in a corner, and atop one of the fridges, a large boombox.
Yup. Boombox.
But, I had been lulled into a false sense of security by not one of the regular stations, or airwaves I had been through, showering me with holly jolly tinkle bells. And all I was conscious of at that moment, end of a long day, was the humming of machinery, the place lacked atmosphere, I wanted to drive home, I was tired and bored, so I walked up to the boombox and hit the power button.
Christmas bells hit me in the face.
This was beyond totally wow; this was WTF wiped-out mind gap.
Best way I could put it was my brain going : WHUT?! WTFWTFWTFFS fffff!
If you know what I mean.
Yeah. Bad stuff.
I'm listening intently, breathless, all thoughts of estimates gone, what was the song? A mish-mash of jingle bells, and jungle drums, and what-not, and some gal drooling the word 'Christmassss' like it was strawberry spit.
Not Last Christmas, anyway. In any form.
I realise I'm breathing hard now. The thief cometh in the night, and we're caught unawares. I had challenged the Universe and was suddenly boomed and boxed, when least expected.
So there I am, staring at this 🤬 fat-cheeked boom box in shock, while its speaker-cheeks cheekily blared out the first Christmas carol of the season that I heard. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.
It was at medium volume; maybe the waitresses in there kept it down so they could yell 'Hog and henfruits, over easy!' and stuff like that during the day.
Next thought was the usual survival thought: 'Shucks, not going to take chances, put this off 'n' get about your work, c'mon Harry, move yer ass,' kind of stuff.
Then the announcer comes on and bawls out cheerily (or was it triumphantly?) that this was Toronto's favourite Christmas station, CHFI 98.1, Christmas music, all day long, 24/7.
My skin crawled. Or may it was the adrenaline kicking in. Hand reached out for the power button. The next song starts up. I freeze. What if I was whammed? Could I lie?
I kicked myself in the head immediately for such a thought: 'You lying bastard,' I told myself, 'play the game. If you're out, you're out. Go back to GTPlanet and confess. Die in your shame. Chicken sot.'
The song is Happy Holidays. The guy sings it like he's on some acid trip. Totally dazed. He's taken a holiday from his mind. I leave the radio on and scurry about quickly doing what I have to - after all, I tell myself, I'll put it off before the song ends and I'll be safe.
The Universe is laughing behind my back. Or wherever the hell the Universe is, I can sense it laughing, anyway. Pissing me off.
Like, totally.
Chicken.
So now it's me against the boom box. I hear the song coming to a close and rush up to the big smarmy junk box of smirky speakers and grinning lights, and I stand there, listening to the music wind down, and the announcer come on again, doing his cheery, leery thing before the next song.
'Radio is still on' comes the urgent message from my brain, 'Hello? You still there?'
Chickeerrrrrnnn . . . . cluck, cluck, cluck . . .
That was it. Challenge accepted. Bring it on, Universe, I grit. Bring. It. On.
And then . . . the third song comes along . . . and I feel like the sky opened and a huge shower of the sweetest smelling flowers, snowflakes of ecstasy, fall around me.
Driving Home for Christmas. Chris Rea singing like he's just recovered from a bottle of Jack.
A Christmas song I actually like, and hardly ever hear, except occasionally around this time of the year, the year almost done, falling leaves come and gone, and soon nothing but a whiteout for several months, a time of symbolic rest and the reaping of rewards, a time of giving, and sharing, and receiving, for no other reason but to stop for a moment and look more closely at each other.
Whole bottle of Jack.
I was totally pumped. I crank the radio up. Place is empty, so nothing to absorb the sound, it fills the room like I was in the middle of an echo chamber. Now I'm overjoyed. I had challenged and won. Not only won, the Universe had blessed my derring do. Third time lucky.
Mr. Dare starts shaking his scrawny butt while gloating. Boom box looks pained to blare out my favourite seasonal track, but has to do the job the Universe had commanded. Play Harry's fave track.
Harry is now jiving by himself, wrists out like a raptor, shoulders hunched, knees a-knock, toes a-twist, butt waggling, head bobbing like a rooster about to jump a hen. I'm jiving home for Christmas. Don't care where that is - there's good people there, cornfields and blue skies, wind in my hair, I'm jiving and I'm a-driving like it's good morning starshine, twinkles everywhere.
That was a great moment. All in the game. Strangely enough, I had just mentioned wondering about that moment a few pages back. The power of intent.
However - I wisely shut the radio down, before the song ended. There is only so much one can challenge the Universe before it turns round and socks you in the gut.
So there you have it, newcomers. That is the game. Challenge the Universe.
And always quit while you're ahead.
Harry.
Playing the game of Wham! is all about daring.
Derring do.
Playing Chicken.
Dare you.
Like, wow, basically, dodge it.
It's our subconscious urge to control the Universe, at least one small part of it - the personal world we inhabit.
You'd think it was easy to dodge a song. If we throw ourselves back a few hundred years - even just a few generations, and you told someone - 'Dare you to dodge Wham! this Christmas!' they'd go like: 'WTF? WTF's Christmas, what this Wham!🤬?' or some equivalent.
Not today. Today we have no power. It's out of our hands. If you live a normal life - there is no doubt you can even completely refute the existence of George Michael - you will hear it.
Last Christmas.
Like, totally.
Cover or original, one way or another - and behold! It even cometh in the shape of a jingle - you will be whammed one wham or another.
No 'Thank You! Ma'am'.
Either.
Like totally 'wow'.
No 🤬
So when you do beat it - when you can actually stick your finger up your nose in the classic 'Nope' and so 'No' to the Universe - 'No, you will not take my power away from me - What? - I cannot decide to not hear a piece of music I don't want to hear? I am controlled, corralled, inhibited, and force-fed by the media in every sort of fashion that I must listen this particular piece of music every year? No. No! NOPE!!'
When you actually get away with it is when you have empowered yourself somehow.
You've given yourself back the power to not do, or not be made to do, something you have deliberately decided you're not going to have done to you.
Why George Michael? Because, as Daniel outlined in the first Wham! Challenge - you can't get away from this particular song. It's very popular. It symbolises the concept of mass hypnotism, the death of the individual. I don't think it has reached the amount of covers that Bing's White Christmas has . . . but it's getting there. You can't get away from it. It pervades the air - albiet in only certain countries - mostly where the language of this Forum is spoken natively. Well, the words are in English, anyway - so you might have a problem calling this a dare if you were living in Timbuktu and listening to FM Timbuktu 1.02.
TBH - I'm not really sure about that, either. One should never underestimate the power of Wham! - the whammage could be widespread, and there may be even the odd radio station in Bethlehem that might play some version of it.
I gave you my heart. You crucified me.
So . . . to put it in short: Dodging Wham!'s Last Christmas is difficult, dodging the covers even more so - whatever even more so than difficult is.
Next to impossible, anyway.
Like totally, totally 'Wow!'
But to get the 'zing' of this whole challenge - let me put what it's all about in story form:
Story of my life, of course, from a few days ago:
Imagine me, a general contractor, walking into a deserted diner (a 'greasy spoon' as axletramp would call it) closed for business at that time, and all I had to do there was a 20 minute, maybe half-hour inspection and estimate.
Place is quiet, sixteen four-chair tables all neatly laid out, equipment against a wall, counters all bare, two massive fridges in a corner, and atop one of the fridges, a large boombox.
Yup. Boombox.
But, I had been lulled into a false sense of security by not one of the regular stations, or airwaves I had been through, showering me with holly jolly tinkle bells. And all I was conscious of at that moment, end of a long day, was the humming of machinery, the place lacked atmosphere, I wanted to drive home, I was tired and bored, so I walked up to the boombox and hit the power button.
Christmas bells hit me in the face.
This was beyond totally wow; this was WTF wiped-out mind gap.
Best way I could put it was my brain going : WHUT?! WTFWTFWTFFS fffff!
If you know what I mean.
Yeah. Bad stuff.
I'm listening intently, breathless, all thoughts of estimates gone, what was the song? A mish-mash of jingle bells, and jungle drums, and what-not, and some gal drooling the word 'Christmassss' like it was strawberry spit.
Not Last Christmas, anyway. In any form.
I realise I'm breathing hard now. The thief cometh in the night, and we're caught unawares. I had challenged the Universe and was suddenly boomed and boxed, when least expected.
So there I am, staring at this 🤬 fat-cheeked boom box in shock, while its speaker-cheeks cheekily blared out the first Christmas carol of the season that I heard. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.
It was at medium volume; maybe the waitresses in there kept it down so they could yell 'Hog and henfruits, over easy!' and stuff like that during the day.
Next thought was the usual survival thought: 'Shucks, not going to take chances, put this off 'n' get about your work, c'mon Harry, move yer ass,' kind of stuff.
Then the announcer comes on and bawls out cheerily (or was it triumphantly?) that this was Toronto's favourite Christmas station, CHFI 98.1, Christmas music, all day long, 24/7.
My skin crawled. Or may it was the adrenaline kicking in. Hand reached out for the power button. The next song starts up. I freeze. What if I was whammed? Could I lie?
I kicked myself in the head immediately for such a thought: 'You lying bastard,' I told myself, 'play the game. If you're out, you're out. Go back to GTPlanet and confess. Die in your shame. Chicken sot.'
The song is Happy Holidays. The guy sings it like he's on some acid trip. Totally dazed. He's taken a holiday from his mind. I leave the radio on and scurry about quickly doing what I have to - after all, I tell myself, I'll put it off before the song ends and I'll be safe.
The Universe is laughing behind my back. Or wherever the hell the Universe is, I can sense it laughing, anyway. Pissing me off.
Like, totally.
Chicken.
So now it's me against the boom box. I hear the song coming to a close and rush up to the big smarmy junk box of smirky speakers and grinning lights, and I stand there, listening to the music wind down, and the announcer come on again, doing his cheery, leery thing before the next song.
'Radio is still on' comes the urgent message from my brain, 'Hello? You still there?'
Chickeerrrrrnnn . . . . cluck, cluck, cluck . . .
That was it. Challenge accepted. Bring it on, Universe, I grit. Bring. It. On.
And then . . . the third song comes along . . . and I feel like the sky opened and a huge shower of the sweetest smelling flowers, snowflakes of ecstasy, fall around me.
Driving Home for Christmas. Chris Rea singing like he's just recovered from a bottle of Jack.
A Christmas song I actually like, and hardly ever hear, except occasionally around this time of the year, the year almost done, falling leaves come and gone, and soon nothing but a whiteout for several months, a time of symbolic rest and the reaping of rewards, a time of giving, and sharing, and receiving, for no other reason but to stop for a moment and look more closely at each other.
Whole bottle of Jack.
I was totally pumped. I crank the radio up. Place is empty, so nothing to absorb the sound, it fills the room like I was in the middle of an echo chamber. Now I'm overjoyed. I had challenged and won. Not only won, the Universe had blessed my derring do. Third time lucky.
Mr. Dare starts shaking his scrawny butt while gloating. Boom box looks pained to blare out my favourite seasonal track, but has to do the job the Universe had commanded. Play Harry's fave track.
Harry is now jiving by himself, wrists out like a raptor, shoulders hunched, knees a-knock, toes a-twist, butt waggling, head bobbing like a rooster about to jump a hen. I'm jiving home for Christmas. Don't care where that is - there's good people there, cornfields and blue skies, wind in my hair, I'm jiving and I'm a-driving like it's good morning starshine, twinkles everywhere.
That was a great moment. All in the game. Strangely enough, I had just mentioned wondering about that moment a few pages back. The power of intent.
However - I wisely shut the radio down, before the song ended. There is only so much one can challenge the Universe before it turns round and socks you in the gut.
So there you have it, newcomers. That is the game. Challenge the Universe.
And always quit while you're ahead.
Harry.
Last edited:
- 9,884
- Carthage, TN
- race_emhard
TL;DR 
