Nov 2nd, 2003, 02:22 PM
Dear The Internet,
Dear The Internet,
How are you? I am fine. Actually, no I'm not. I'm not fine at all. I'm very unfine.
The Internet, how long have we known each other? I can remember long ago, when my brother introduced us. Your name was Compuserve then, and you made the cutest little noises that made my ears bleed when you'd show up. You were so small, and so fragile then.
As you grew up, you changed. You became AT&T, SNET, and now Optimum Online. You've grown a lot, The Internet. And I wish I could say I'm proud of you. But you've grown to be something that I do not like.
I've spent a lot to time with you, The Internet. Too much time. I didn't even realize what was happening to you until it was too late, because the change was so subtle. Day by day, a little something was different. Too small to notice then, but all those little somethings grew to become one big something.
You've become stupid, The Internet. And you're taking me with you.
You've started saying "u" instead of "you." "r" instead of "are." You started TaLkInG lIkE tHiS, or even talkin liek thiz. I had brushed it off and figured it was just a small problem you needed to work out. But it just kept getting worse.
You developed a "porn" addiction, The Internet. Every day, when I'd talk to you, you'd bring up new and terrifying things that were intended to be considered sexual by people who were fed paint thinner instead of breast milk when they were born. Sure, it started out simple enough. I figured your pleasure in lactating sluts was just a psychological desire for the breast milk you never had. But the next thing I knew, BAM! Shitting granny trannies, animal-human hybrids engaging in swallowing other animal-human hybrids whole, stories about classic TV characters from our youth engaging in sexual acts that were all but sex. This was when I started to really worry.
And then, I met your other friends. You've gotten around, The Internet. And you're a whore. Anyone with a cable or phone line can have a good time with you. So what if they're rabid Insane Clown Posse fans with tendancies to throw hissyfits because other people don't like them? So what if they're "authors" of various stories involving Vicki from Small Wonder being anally fisted by a humanoid emu who rubs his genitals with sandpaper? So what if they send 50 e-mails to me each day requesting I make my penis longer and/or bigger? You just went where the action was. You cheap slut.
All of this has taken its toll on me, and I didn't realize until recently just how much you've hurt me. I knew you had become shit. I knew you had become the kind of friend I never wanted. But I realized that I'm just like you. You've exposed me to a world of idiocy, perversion, and cultures that has warped me into its own image. I have faired better than most, but I know that I'll never be the same because of it all.
And I hate you for it. You've twisted me into a creature that God never intended his children to be. Not even Satan could believe the unspeakable horrors you've bestowed upon us. And I'm sure all those other religious Gods and godlike beings from other religions I know nothing about are not happy either.
The Internet, you're a horrible horrible person, who has united the world in a chaotic combination of all the elements that set us on a one-way path to our own destruction. You've led us all to a place worse than Hell. You've led us to the World Wide Web.
I hate you, I hate your friends, I hate all the things you've shown me and told me. And just like Neo from The Matrix, I'm going to fight back. But not with cool movie Kung Fu and special effects. But with derogatory comments towards specific things I hate about you that will be shared with other people who could give two shits what I have to say.
It's dirty fighting, I know. But you've left me no other choice.
Sincerely,
James
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