Welcome to Talking Points, a daily roundup of digital miscellany
PETER PAN SYNDROME
Like a Wes Anderson flick set on fast forward, "Camp Grounded" is a summer camp for adults. (Tag line: "Where grown-ups go to unplug, getaway and be kids again.") For three nights and $300 (U.S.), big people relinquish their mobile devices, watches and "work-jargon." Real names, ages and alcohol are also verboten: This is a kids' camp, after all. The idea is to shed the daily grind during "an off-the-grid weekend of pure unadulterated fun." Camp activities include retro favourites like archery, horseshoes and pillow fights, but also more nebulous tween concepts like "friends forever" and "dancing under the moonlight." The New York Times' Matt Haber participated in the festivities: He got relaxed but also recorded complaints about the meals, gross adult versions of carefree kid food including vegan mac 'n' cheese pasted together with rice pasta and soy. How about a good old-fashioned camping trip without the prescription of protracted adolescence?
Want to fast track your way through purgatory? Follow the Pope on Twitter. The Vatican is granting "indulgences" to Catholics who will follow Pope Francis' tweets during Catholic World Youth Day, being held in Rio de Janeiro later this month. Traditionally, the church has offered indulgences to shorten the time devotees will have to suffer in purgatory after they've been forgiven their sins. Priests reportedly used to take bribes for indulgences; more recently you could climb the Sacred Steps in Rome to shorten your time in limbo. Today, you can score such eternal perks via social media – if you prostrate correctly. "It is not as if you can get an indulgence by chatting on the Internet," a Vatican source told the Guardian. Before logging on for Twitter's livestreaming of World Youth Day events, Catholics should confess their sins and pray with "requisite devotion." Blessed be the blue bird.
"I would very much like it to arrive. I'm going on holiday." –The Queen
Hurry up already, says the Queen, impatient for the royal baby (and her third great-grandchild) ahead of an annual summer vacation in Scotland.