In Which our protagonist freaks out about the internet.

MY FACEBOOK
What the hell did I get myself into? It's like the social fields of a high school that's been shifted into an accelerated time frame with… with little gardens! Little self-propagating gardens! And every time you edit your details it tells everyone you know! And it's fucking creepy! And it's popular as fuck! Why is it popular as fuck? When did it become trendy to give away all the details of your life as you live it?

There is a level of automation present in this site that makes me want to run screaming into the hands of the Amish. And yet I can't stop tweaking it. The Book of Faces has my face now. I keep searching through its pages to accumulate more fandoms, more groups, more… things. Why? Why must I attempt to model my brain out in a blatantly-public digital format? Is it part of some search for myself? The idea that, once I have my inner workings laid out like the guts of an ailing Buick, I can fix it? Is the whole thing just an attempt to exploit the urgings of cargo culture?

What the hell.

some sort of news, I guess

bz0ne.net failed to re-register their domain name, I think Ben is too busy sexing up the nasa groupies with his SCIENCE.

I have also decided to post my away messages on the basis that it beats writing a real entry.

Your pathetic attempt to speak resounds in the presence of a god! Your existential impotence is measured in light-years in regard to my eldritch stature. No mortal upon this wretched rock can dare comprehend the slightest of my feeblest waking dreams. I am the end without end, the doom what walks upon worlds, the bringer of the final words upon the last whispery death rattle of the galaxy. I am what Death fears.

Now, do you desire shredded potato fryings for your abject scrapings of greasy filth or not?

Previous cultures had a time limit on their fad memes. No one would write it down, or mention it to others after the fact, and so many silly little predecessors to "lolcats" went uncatalogued. Now that the Internet is the main source of such things, there is a trail of evidence left over from the initial wave. This single wave can spawn a nigh-unlimited number of secondary waves, thereby propigating a meme until a counter-meme is generated to lessen it (usually something simple as " is overplayed").

I call it the Shitstream Effect.

The problem with thinking outside the box is that, in order to truly achieve an outsider viewpoint, you must detach yourself so completely from the existing system that the end result may well be unacceptable.

The trick is to find a distant, disused corner of the box and fuck the everloving shit out of it.

Practicing omniscience. You! You're thinking of something… purple? purplish? bluish-purple? Close to purple? Well sure you're thinking of purple now. Damn.