Monsieur Gribeaux has ever been a wanton creature when it comes to gadgets. For a warped and deviant manwhore like himself, your run-of-the-mill Best Buy is a fallen place - a kind of cyber-brothel. We sold a lot of shit to go to E3 in the year 2000, but I didn't have to sell as much because when you live with somebody who gets high on technology you save a lot of money on technology. He was going through one of these ancient cassettes - cassettes, people - and found novelties of various kinds. After seeing his boys take their first damn'd steps on this blasted orb of sin, he found the Elder Content, which was also of young men just slightly older than the other ones:
Gorbiriel had to order something off Amazon to convert whatever the hell proprietary horseshit this ancient Sony thing spits out, but yes - we should have some of what your sixth grade teacher Mrs. Prang would have called a "primary source" for E3 2000 on the YubTub here in a bit.
There's lots to say about what a modern E3 should be, I guess; I can see a path that works. Such a thing would have to be mounted in concert with a client base that, at least currently, genuinely believes digital engagement to be the equal of physical presence. That's a tall hill, and that trendline was already moving toward digital before the plague made it mandatory. But if having no E3 means we all have to look at Geoff Keighley every summer, to be conscious of him, to recognize the hideous fact of his existence, that's not a good trade. I cringed so hard at his last shit that I became small enough to phase through solid objects.