You could say that i’m a pretty sick guy – even literally this time, i’m hanging at home and feel like ending it all. Damn flu.
But instead of beeing cared for by a staff of well trained blondes i’m sitting here with a notebook and a latte, contemplating going to university anyhow – of course to accellerate getting a well paid job, thus getting those blondes earlier. Then, a few minutes ago an interesting question struck me while i was checking the online menu of the uni canteen to see if it’s worth the effort to go hanging out there instead:
Did signing up to this Media B.S. thing rip the last bit of life out of me? Am i damned to hang the rest of my life in front of a computer, considering i’m even too lazy to call someone and ask a real person how the food is?
Lately i happen to have these bloody things around me all the time – i actually have a window of thirty minutes on the way to and from uni where i am off limits to any wifi network around – but the rest of the day is petty much covered in wifi at Starbuck’s, at home, even my favourite bar has a wifi hotspot now. The internet is roaching into every corner and assimilating the last stand of reality.
But it’s not the internet in it’s original form that worries me, it’s how the idiot’s on the internet slowly but surely get a firm grip even on your reality. In our version of Neuromancer or Matrix noone actually needs cables:
In some years, you get all the idiocity of every last of mankinds idiots wified directly into your skull
Imagine having all the “lol”s and “!!!1!” still in front of you after closing your eyes. A visible but unreachable nemesis that doesn’t go away, wether you lie on your lawn or search for relics of nazi Germany in the catacombs of Berlin, some bloody moron will always PM you a youtube link though you set yourself on N/A.
And all of this for 29.99/month with a free brain surgery,