The Internet has experienced an explosion of sorts in the five (5) years that I have experienced and been experienced by it, by them, and all that. What has happened is a lot. Too much. Not enough. Way too little way too late. Way too much way too early. Nada. Todos. Shit. Heavan. Hell. Utopia. Bliss. Fuck all. Horror. It all. Fuck it all.
And I have survived to tell the tale. Which is saying everything and nothing. But I won't get into that stream again. Here is: everything you didn't want to know about the internet (but were smart enough not to ask).
There is no freedom on this Internet thing you anus brain. The guy (and it's invariably a guy) who plays with the machines is the one who determines what you can or cannot say, do, feel, think or live. If it doesn't pass his rectal exam he cuts you off, shuts yo down, terminates your whatever and lives happily ever after tough shit and fuck offs for you. Go ahead. Try. Express yourself. See how long it is before your plug is pulled.
Between You And Me (and the wall of eyes)
There is no privacy on this medium you supid fuck. It's all public knowledge from the (pant-pant) horny letter you mailed your lay to the plans and schemes you exchange in business and anything else. There are no linkless pages. Spiders do *not* respect anti-robo HTML. No encryption method works. Every system is easily hacked into. The whoel shebang - good, bad, ugly, beautiful and dull - is open spread eagled for one and all to see, hear, read and (heavan forbid smell.
Even Braver New World
The Internet appears to be the means our civil liberties will be eroded into non-existance. We have no privacy and no freedom. Our ability to communicate in a law abiding manner is subject to perpetual oversight. With the ever heightening technologization of everyday life and the inevitable integration of it all into this Internet mindset we are fucking well doomed as free citizens if there ever was such a thing in the first pplace (debatable). Well at least once upon a time we could disappear. Now? Good luck.
To be tracked from begining to end, to be codified, digitized, every aspect of one's existance consumerized, to be numbered and listed, delisted and classified, to be marked and demarked and remarked, to be pursued when wealthy and rebuked when in poverty, to be propositioned and solicited, to be brought into this world and ushered out, to be reamed and roamed, to be watched and to watch, to be fish bowled into exitance and pin holed out of existance, to be internetized and reinternetized and deinternetized, to never be alone, to never get the feeling no-one has been there, to not to be is to be, to be is to not be, niether is that the question nor the answer. Just the impossibility.
Look it just isn't. No-one is who or what they say they are or aren't. Except for (perhaps) me. Liars and bulshitters, guys scamming as gals and gals laughing as guys and staulkers and perverts and lonely mother fuckers and fatherfuckers, lying through their fuckless teeth, lying through their whistling fucking noses, lying through their crusty keyboards. Lying liars without existances.
More Than Ever Before
All the fucking empty passing of empty static organized into semi- transparant shared voids when the sun is shining outside and the wind is blowing and there is enough life left in the planet to just enjoy oneself before it all gets concretized and you have to waste your fucking end of days lives hunched over radiating monitors playing games with fucking strangers who could care less about you. Grow up, wake up, live life and fuck off.
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