” The Pessimist are wrong ! ”
- an Optimist
News for December 2009
The Good News
“Gone to commit suicide, expect to return next tuesday”
Ah the rantings. Yes there it is. Digitizing over two hours of banter from the Godfather of Veejays, while coughing up as3 code for some event; hacking Hyves and chatting about the pros and cons of climate change. And everything after working hours of course. Will life get better then this? – You would say the only way is up from here.
But no. The storm was just about quieting down when the real one was gathering momentum. Why is that? I’m getting ready to face yet another one of those ‘everything at once’ moments and I’m still licking wounds from the last battle. I’m amazed that my body actually puts up with this shit. Or isn’t it?
Complaining and complaining while it is just about tuesday.
The people on the internets are making themselves ready for the new ‘realtime’ thing, and me and my digital roommates on IRC are wondering what the fuzz is about. Then we go about our business as some of us join the virtual world of Eve while others poke around in the Apis and frameworks of yet another new internet service. Realtime? Ow yeah, like when I type something and then you can read it. Well. Yeah. Try typing ‘run’.
You think command lines look too techy. You don’t get it. Realtime should be accompanied with iphone apps and cute tweeting birdies. Why is that? I must be getting old, but sometimes I long for the days when it was just us on the netz. We were downloading porn, swapping music and cracking apps while we gathered for yet another demo-con, where we drank and smoked and looked at 4k demos that fucking ROCKED.
If it’s not about the technology then it must be about the people. For it sure isn’t about the content. I’m not even discussing the stuff that people put on the webpeejes but the stuff that people actually read.
Yes I monitor you. In real time, as I always did. I see the trending and the analytics, I talk the SEO and always look at it in c00t. I see what it is you are seeing and it is, as it always was, PORN.
Naked women getting stuffed with huge dildo’s and incredible penises. Women taken from behind while another black man is keeping her mouth open with fingers from both his hands. He’s stuffing her with his manhood. Choking her. She is eating shit and swapping cum and you are fucking watching. Don’t deny it. Don’t put it away. Look at your browser history. Ow I forgot. Only your children know how to do that.
Browser histories are the ‘dirty magazines’ of this decade.
Then, when you have stopped watching the Filth. You send your computer to fetch information on the latest Gossip on some alleged lesbian movie actress or find stories about conspiracies so you won’t have to deal with the complexity of life. Preferably conspiracies that have no reasonable arguments whatsoever. That talk about how you are being fucked in the ass by ‘them’. By people like me. On the inside. That understand some of it, or at least make an effort to listen to arguments. Fuck them all. Put them all of as ‘big money’, ‘the oil industries’ or ‘Muslims’ and twitter about it. Set it on your blog and make a whiny video for youtube. Update your status on facebook with your pathetic uneducated lame and trivial excuse for an opinion. Or better yet. Do not concern yourself at all with stuff like this, but bluff your way into music and talk about bands all day long.
Yes I am blaming you people. I’m blaming you people for all of it.
We build this medium for a reason. Yes we build it for porn. But for good porn. We wanted to watch cute lesbian high school girls messing with oil and kissing each other. Naked.
We devoted our lives to unlock information. To share knowledge, music, videos and stories we like. We build Wikipedia so that everybody could understand relativity. We build Napster so everybody could listen to the music they wanted to hear. We build Blogs so everybody could understand the code. Everybody could join and make it better. Not fucking whine and bitch and wait for somebody else to do something about it.
We didn’t want to be sued by Music companies. The film industry. Lawyers. Firms. Money. Oil. War. Relegion. We didn’t want the fucking bible on the webs. Fuck you. This isn’t your place. it’s ours. get off. NOW. fucker.
Go do your banter in in a bar where I can avoid you. With loud music so you can’t understand each other. Try to convey your lame ass opinion in a three-word quote on a t-shirt. Make your noisy remarks about your CD collection in your own place.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but I hate the internet and I’m thinking about bringing it down altogether. We should destroy it while we still can. Or else it will collapse in on itself and become a black hole.
Like the silent majority. Like the consumers. Like the place where marketing people get their statistics from. A vast black hole that only eats. That consumes and grows. Grows. Pounding. Throbbing. Leaving an echo of everything it has devoured on the event horizon. Unrecognizable. Derranged and senseless.
Only twisted disturbed images of what once has been. Long time-dilated images, warped and twisted shades of the things they were. Stretched in to infinity and warped beyond recognition. That is the internet. Be god-damn proud of it.
No. I’m not done yet. I’m gonna mess this up for you. In this little deranged corner that is my own web space I will spit and howl. I will cry. And that is thousand words done with.