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There's two things you're not supposed to do on the Internet, or so they say. They
being, of course, the smart idiots that know about everything.
For instance, why does every two bit website out there use three columns ? Why is that, why do you need columns in a website ? Who came up with that shit ? Are you trying to make a newspaper ? So then go print a fucking newspaper and forget about all dis thigital crap. And if you don't know why your website is stuck in column mode, maybe the pressing question for you would be more along the lines of why is your brain stuck in listening to idiots mode. So, the things you aren't supposed to do would be, first, don't go into detail. If you can avoid text altogether, all the better. People on the Internet don't want to read, they want to watch. This is why they aren't sitting in front of the tv, because the tv is all about reading. They use a computer instead, on a network originally designed to exchange articles so people could read them as early as possible, for the simple purpose of watching. Make a shitty animated cartoon out of pink squares and heads that break at the seams to render "talking", set it to the music of injured dogs howling and be done with it. Better yet, make some cretinous modeling clay figures drink water from a cup or something. But whatever you do, don't go into detail. More importantly, if you do choose to go into detail, don't make any subtle points. If you say four things in an article, of which one is apparent to the average intellect on the first pass, and the other three to the above average intellect on the second or third pass, you've really made a tenth of a point. Because one in ten "users" enjoys an average intellect and the drive to read an entire whopping article. The second thing you aren't supposed to do is hurt anyone's feelings. Life, you see, is this happy camping expedition, and the goal of it is, just as any not yet graduated schmuck making bellow minimal wage knows, to bring all the kids back intact. It's not about doing anything, or getting anything done. It's simply about making sure everyone walks just as slow as Georgy-Porgy, the slowest kid in the group, who, if he could walk on his jaws, could conceivably bust the 100 meters record. If everyone would just walk as slow as Georgie, nobody would get to see Mount Rushmore, obviously. But, more importantly, Georgie wouldn't be made to feel inadequate. You see, it's not Georgie who's being inadequate, and in the process of trying to adequate makes himself feel inadequate, as the adequate start point for solving his personal problem. Nononono, nothing of the kind. In fact, Georgie would be doing just fine, blissfully ignoring his inadequacy, if the blasted world wouldn't insist on pointing it out to him all the time. Like, for instance, stairs. Two flights of stairs and he's there huffing and puffing, but maybe if we passed school rules so that everyone climbing stairs is required to huff and puff, and changed the required textbooks, just a bit, insert a few huffs and puffs here and there as "physiological response to stair climbing" we'd be all set. Which is, in itself, a worth goal. In fact, if society as a whole manages to lose all industrial concern to the Chinese, and all technological advance to the Japanese, and all medical research to the Europeans or the Koreans or whoever the fuck, that matters little, compared to the great achievement of making Georgie feel right at home. By ensuring everyone else becomes, at the earliest convenience, a braindead fat kid with soda soaked overalls and chip crumbs on the chin. By now I imagine you have gathered just how much stock I put in them things you must not do. Onward with the actual subject for today. There's this kid, running his honest to God personal website. Imagine. This one I occasionally read, which is exceptional, and I read it for a very good reason. The guy isn't particularly smart, nor particularly versed in prosody, stylistics or the classics (the pre-Mark Twain kind). However, he is honest. And this is a rare bird, especially on the Internet. You may think it's impossible to tell if someone is lieing or not. That would be because you're stupid. Or, at least, comparatively retarded. Ooops, here goes the third thing, forgot about it. You must never make your audience feel inferior. A well. Now let's see what our friend has to say. Hey everyone. I don't have much in the way of updates, but I do have a very interesting tale for all of my readers. I wonder why does everyone feel obliged ? If you run a soup kitchen, you don't apologize to the bums, do you ? "Oh, so sorry, no lentils today, beans only". Fuck you all. Eat re-heated one week old updates and go to Hell. So, there was this guy that I worked with. I worked with him for several months. We both lived close to our place of employment, so we would walk home together every day. We talked about a lot of things from pop culture to music to movies. We shared a lot of the same interests and we let each other borrow DVDs and video games. He seemed like a normal, easy going guy. He was actually fairly smart and was able to carry on an educated conversation about any topic I could come up with. I enjoyed talking to him every day on my way home from work because he was an interesting and complex person. See, this is mostly not fake-able. In fact, if you can fake this, I want to meet you, drop me a line. A lot of things, from pop culture to video games. That, somehow, constitutes a lot. Like in, we ate a lot of things, from hay to straw. So here's a fourth thing you can't never do. You can't give people examples of better interests. You can't, for instance, say, art. Go look at a painting ya pitiful redneck. Cezanne, he's not this guy that's famous. He ain't famous. He's damned good. Much unlike all the famous people you can name, that simply stink, at whatever it is they pretend to be doing. Pick up some pencils and make some of your own Picasso's, just for a ball. Sure, you won't be cool, for about two days. You won't be an idiot either. You might end up liking it. You can't, for instance, say skill. Learn to make chairs, out of real wood, with hand tools. Learn to make a pot of spaghetti. Real spaghetti. Grow mushrooms in your basement. Grow roses. Grow a potted plant for fucks sake, just do something that involves reality. Not films, not video games. Go talk to a girl. Don't fucking date her, don't go into some elaborate, yet socially prescribed mating ritual with well known requirements and expectations. Just find out something about her that you didn't know. Learn how to hack into the phone network. Practice your sling shot. Do something, anything, they may call it anti social, fine, delinquent, okay, just as long as it involves some skill that you can perfect. See what you're doing wrong. See why. See who did it right. See how. Just so you know, at a very least, what a fucktard you are. Because that realisation is good. That realisation is in itself the foundation of most great things. Stop watching movies about how great you could be instead go do something to find out what a horrible failure you actually are. You'll be moving farther towards your own greatness that way than if you watch all the films ever made. In short, your hobbies and pastimes suck. Get new ones. Then, last week, HE BURNED DOWN A FUCKING CHURCH. A bit extreme. He is now in jail for Arson (among other things such as breaking and entering, domestic violence, etc.) and is being held on a $50,000 bond. He's probably facing about 20 years in prison. I'm not really a religious person, but I'm pretty sure that because he burned down a church, he is going to Hell for sure. I mean, that's pretty bad. In fact, it's REALLY bad. If his judge is a religious man (or woman), he's pretty much fucked and is going down for a long, long time... He's probably facing 3 years in jail and 10 on probation, but hey, who am I to argue. But that doesn't matter. Look at the phraseology : I'm not really a religious person, but I'm pretty sure that because he burned down a church, he is going to Hell for sure. Admire the primitive mind at work. All the ideas, meshed and intertwined, vague and indistinct, trying to think is akin to talking a walk through a banshee infested dark forest. So I ask you, versed linguists of the land, master psychologists, keepers of the tablets of hermeneutics, ye who can read texts written by peoples long extinct in languages long silent, what does it mean, not being a "religious person" to this guy ? What does being a "not really religious person" ? What's a person, to him ? And what's he mean by Hell ? Nobody knows, and I daresay nobody could know. In spite of a couple millenia of progress, in which we have given our slaves machines and penicillin, we still haven't given them any sense. They still don't know what they're talking about. Show me this progress, sometime when you have a moment. And the worst part, really, is that our subject is trying. He's not where he is for lack of capacity, as much as for lack of opportunity. Sure, libraries are available everywhere, he can read if he wants to. Cheap out. I didn't mean money-opportunity. Giving a teenager a new car every year doesn't translate to "Son, we've given you every opportunity". Bullshit. A new car is an excellent opportunity to break your neck and nothing else. Freakin think about it. You still cut bread with the old knife, cause you're used to it, and you don't want the new one and risk cutting yourself till you get used to it. How's a car different ? Still just a tool. Only thing it's good for is breaking your neck. I did mean people-opportunity. Nobody could be bothered, in his entire life, to tell him a few things about what sucks and why, and what doesn't suck, and why. Because it's too hard, it's too much effort, there's no way to take financing on that. You can't do it in 168 easy monthly installments. You may end up shown a fool if you try, laughed at, even proven wrong, horror of horrors. You, proven wrong. You, laughed at. After all you've accomplished. Why, your bank account stands at almost an entire nickel over the consolidated debt. Whoopee. I guess. Fuck me if I care. 1 people don't care either. |