22 On the Internet

And a market expert ventured:
But isn’t this why we have the internet?
And a bombastic web designer piped in, Yes, please do speak to us of Al Gore’s greatest invention.

And the rabid prophet was just beginning to warm up:
Screw the internet. Just the other day I found myself cruising down the information interstate in search of another cliché, when I was overtaken by a webcrawler. Humiliated, I ducked into alt/all/opinions/matter where I slammed into the following post:
“When I was little, everyone told me I look like a young Natalie Wood. But then I grew up. Love Roxanne.”
My own website receives fewer hits in a week, than Mark McGwire gets in a single inning. It’s over-saturated. Nay, the internet is for wankers, and the Blair Witch myth makers of this world - a massive vacuum to suck this world dry of creativity and originality. Who wants to scream into the void? The vacuum carries no sound.

These days all I hear is cyber this and cyber that. “Cyber” has got to be the most dreadful prefix in all of creation. Science fiction is dead. Nothing is left unimaginable. Nothing that the future holds will surprise anyone, with the possible exception of a vast shortage of drinking water and the unwelcome return of bubonic plague.

And who, kind people of Orphalese, wants to log onto the ranting and raving ejaculations of lunatics?

Whereupon a front row listener did say:
With all due respect Al…

But the prophet, who on this cold December night had managed to work up quite a sweat would not now be silenced:
Silence. If the internet can help to one day bring about democracy, then I’m all for it. If the idea of freedom can topple tyrannies, then I am in agreement also. And if I can sit down in the evening to a few raunchy clips, then I’m not entirely adverse to that either.