"Be free, damn it!"
This is it, the moment of TRUTH. Not another Iraq war, ass. My instant messenger service. It seems to work pretty well, and can actually transfer files, too. Next I'll make an interface and such, but it already stomps the holy hell out of every other communication system known to man.
I'm not watching that frigging Bush speech either. I already know what he's going to say. "Uh...hi...uh...I'm George, and...uh...I like to have sex with men and little boys. I touch myself nightly while fantasizing about my own apotheosis. Uh. Er. Uh. ...Um...America r0x0rs." Please, father Osama, if you can hear me, just finish us off already.
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That's my sharp political insight for special day.
I'd like to be writing more, but there's not one frigging interesting thing going on. Just tepid, boring war rhetoric and lame old exploding space shuttles. Blah blah Iraq, blah blah tragedy, blah blah heroes, blah blah freedom security terrorism Jesus holy war for great justice. Don't waste my time. I'll just play around with sockets programming for a while.
I know something you don't know: the default administrator password for the computers in the district attorney's office. And that was the only neat thing that came out of dragging thirty-four of them across busy streets and up and down elevators. I'm supposed to write a report about my internship adventures, but that's boring. I will do it in gripping narrative form instead, and then upload it alongide my new Powerpuff Girls epic story, Heart of Darkness II: The Starbucks Trilogy.
Yes, so, I finally uploaded the DV Rap. Reading it is like opening up a present Christmas morning and finding a steaming pile of feces. Speaking of feces, some jackass saw fit to IM me yesterday, raise my warning level a bit, and tell me to watch my ass; you know how much I love cowardly anonymous threats. Surely it must be one of my former classmates, because I just don't get random messages from strangers, I am like a god to the rest of the people I know, and such an act takes a special kind of assholism that can only be spawned in a suburban high school. Oh well. Dust in the wind, like all the rest. I have grander, more glorious schemes to attend to now, like putting child pornography on people's desktops and then calling the authorities. Man I love this country.
What the hell? 26 visitors last week? Where are they all coming from? Of course, it can't compare to the record-breaking 260 during 'possible DV school shooting' week. Holy shit. Those jerks came from school districts all over the county, and proceeded to vomit all over my guestbook. Gee, thanks, guys. I still have that Book of Shame lying around, and why not? We all love bad news. Morning commuters gawk at a five car pileup, a maladjusted teen waxes philosophic on a Geocities page, and the masses flock to see a massacre in the making. Oh well. Works for me; human suffering turns me on. Now where's that frigging Armageddon already?
Merry Goddamn Christmas, you bloodsucking whores. Yes, yet another perfect opportunity to blow something up or circulate some vicious bacteria or otherwise assert the absolute Glory of Allah has gone to waste. Thanks a lot. Pricks. What am I supposed to do now? Buy some war bonds, I suppose, when I know damn well those assholes could launch a few space lasers or whatnot, wipe out the rest of humanity, and ensure once and for all the absolute security of the nation. Why, then we would have a final utopian society, in which we could all work seventy hours a week, get five miles to the gallon in our shitmobiles, and watch sitcoms and sports broadcasts for the rest of our focus-group-approved lives. Hallelujah.
I have for you today a holiday epic to shake the ages. I also have my DV Rap and a sad little C program, but I don't have the patience to deal with anything else right now.
I cannot even begin express my gratitude at the fact that you will all be blown up by terrorists someday.
Stay tuned for C.
I got jack out there tonight. There was nothing but three foot tall losers and stupid crap all over the place. It was just like any other day, really, except that this time they were getting candy. I wanted candy. The only candy I could get was some dinky little pissing lollipop thing with a tootsie roll center, and I had to get that from one of the slackerfest "please take only one" houses. I might have considered taking them all if I liked those frigging things. And I don't. Tootsie pop my ass. So, yes, I spent an hour running around my little pootown to get one piece of candy that I hate.
If you were wondering where I've been the past couple weeks, I've been around, and peeing in the milk cartons in your fridge while you weren't looking. I've also been programming, and my virus will be arriving in your inbox soon. It downloads your system child pornography and maps of the Chicago water system with little skulls and x's drawn all over, then promptly reports these moral lapses to TIPS. Alright, not really, but it's an idea. Maybe I'll have a story to share tomorrow. Maybe not. Either way, go 'way.
One is what one does.
I am making my first update from my Linux system.
I am a geek.
Protocols, media, standards, shells, code; yes, this suits me just fine.
One is what one does.
I have done nothing.
I am nothing.
Yes, it's a strange, strange world. US holy wars, corporate-government gay sex, Bush taking on the rest of the world, the metaphoric wiping of buttocks with the Bill of Rights/Constitution, paranoia and the general pissing off of, well, me...in these troubled times I feel that the question must be asked (see, that's passive voice, which is considered weak writing in many circles. I invite them, challenge them even, to eat my feces):
Oh, if only Columbine had kept a baseball team on hand that fateful day. Sorry, that was mean. Not that anyone cares anymore, as the new national obsession is child kidnappings, addressing just how many different ways we could possibly be butchered by Muslims as we go about our daily business, and cyberterrorism. Yes, cyberterrorism. You know, that thing that doesn't really exist, or at best is just a new name for hacking (at least one prominent figure, but not prominent enough for me to remember, has equated hackers with terrorists; how exploiting software and exploding people are even remotely similar is beyond me), but justifies all kinds of new online government regulation. I'll stick with techno-anarchy, thanks.
Ah, and that reminds me of an article I read yesterday. Well, an article about an article, really. The New York Times reported about 'chatspeak' (I believe they called it something else. I don't know. I didn't read the article, since they wanted me to sign up. I don't care if it's free, it's a hassle nonetheless) appearing in students' schoolwork, thus baffling their teachers. I don't know what makes it so difficult to distinguish between colloquial online interaction and a school assignment. I know I've never had such a problem. This is largely because 1.) I am not retarded, my former schoolmates' sentiments notwithstanding, and 2.) typing on a keyboard and writing with a pen are two very different processes. Plus I speak differently to friends and to superiors. The student in question said something about it being automatic, and I really have to wonder how little she would have to read and/or write to be able to lapse into some crazy-ass online shorthand, especially on, say, an essay for English. If an essay is supposed to be an organization of thoughts into a unified and coherent paper, then how much coherent thinking must be going on to turn in such an assignment filled with b4 and bcuz and 2 and u and r, eh? Anyway...this was on slashdot.org, and so there had to be hundreds and hundreds of replies that reiterated the same two or three arguments that all made mountains out of this particular molehill.
On the one hand, language evolves. We don't use the grammar-specific thees and thous of Elizabethan/Shakespearean/whateveran English. That's thou for subject and thee for object. Four hundred years later we just have you for both. Alright. That's language evolution.
On the other hand, spelling you as 'u', are/our as 'r', and so on in some bastard approximation of phonetic or, baby Jesus help us, "creative" spelling (not that I'm particularly fond of the standard and seemingly random variety of spellings for various English words, but come on, people, I know you can't do any better. Asses.) is not so much language evolution as expedience for the triple-digit-word-per-minute challenged, or as is much more often the case, trying not to 'show off' by applying a decade and up of native language experience. No, really. I've been mocked for my punctuation and capitalization and words exceeding lengths of five letters. I can type, honest. I don't need shorthand to get my ideas across in a timely manner. I'm sorry, I just can't accept the argument that this method for geek-wannabes to keep up with instant messages and chat rooms is some kind of important turning point in the English language, or that such a development should be treated with care as if it were a carefully constructed artistic expression, or as if English teachers were somehow damaging creativity with this "cultural normalization," as one poster put it. Spelling as a tool of repression. I'll have to remember that one for when I'm running this freak show.
And anyway, creativity sucks in general, this particular kind doubly so. That's why we have books of poetry that contain gems like "In just spring, the little lame balloon man whistles far and wee." Shut up. No more "e e cummings," please. Anyway, I ascribe to the school of thought that it's better to know the rules, and then break them. Otherwise some pissing obnoxious children could make the same motions in their worthless daily lives to create equivalent 'art'. And who wants to be on the same level as that?
Oh, and eh...if I seem a bit snobby and stuffy about this 'proper typing' business, it's not because I'm the MLA's whorechild, or because I'm some stuffy and dry academic. I will kindly direct your attention to my recent treatise regarding my flatulence. My ways just happen to be better than yours, and that just happens to include saying 'be right back' when I mean 'be right back,' and finding capitalization to be much more pleasing to the eye. So TTFN, G2G, BBS, TTYL, IWPIYMYDW. Tata for now, got to go, be back soon, talk to you later, I will piss in your mouth, you dirty whore.
Chatspeak, aLtErNaTe cApItAlIzAtIoN? That's stupid AOL sissy ass crap bastard dammit urine. Now l33t sp34k, that's another issue entirely. |7 \/\/1 |_ |_ r0><0r j00.
That's just my opinion anyway. Hey, there's a first time for everything, and I could be wrong.
Well, not really.