March 5, 1999

By Morgan Carlson

About a month ago, I picked up a CD by the band Solex. (The 'band' is actually just one woman with a sampler, but hey, it's the 90's. That counts.) She made a neat little album of electronicy pop candy, and I really dig it. So, last week, I discovered that she ran her own website, and I visited it and sent her an E-mail. And guess what? She wrote me back, nice and casual-like. We're having a laid-back E-mail conversation, despite the fact that she's on a label and tours and sells records and all of that jazz. I've gained a new (and no doubt fleeting) respect for rock stars.

This is almost as much fun as the time me and the denizens of www.thedsc.com had Wu-Tang's RZA visit the DSC chat room. And even though Mr. RZA answered all of the inquiries in Shaolin babble, it was still really neat.

Anyhow, I'm rather excited about digging up a shred of humanity in this evil world of celebrity culture. I have officially decided to become famous, but remain accessible to the worthless schmoes who fund my reckless lifestyle.

Despite all of the responses I got when I asked for help with homepage making (note dripping sarcasm), I'm still thinking that Web Mastering is the way towards my ascension into the ranks of the fameuse. Britney Spears may be able to get a few minutes of sunshine with her latest music video, but that doesn't mean jack when I'm flooding the bandwith with oodles of propaganda! I'll buy her little dancing ass, and make her work a real job down at the Chicken Shack, hocking Crispy Tenders for five bucks an hour.

I'm going to be the hero of the working class, bringing arrogant celebrities to their silicone knees. Marilyn Manson could use a foot in his ass, except he'd probably beg for more. Leo DiCaprio would be made into a car wash clerk. The Spice Girls would be handing out bowling shoes. And who else wants to see the Baldwins selling pretzels at the mall? I do! I do!

My day is coming. (Using spooky voice.) Ta ta.

©1999, Morgan Carlson