#368

We all have a reason to go to internet, or anyways, we should. Most people's reason to go online is to find a reason to be online, which many corporations and technologists motivated largely by maximizing the potential of the space to generate capital and influence in powerful, throbbing feedback loops have taken advantage of in just the way one would expect--to do landscape architecture on internet that renders the space a sterile, frictionless conveyance to impulse purchases and the ratcheting of emotionally-driven dialogue into the stratosphere. A droning, monochrome soap opera running in tandem with the purring cash engine feeding publishers of every description and giving everything to the shadow government, feeding on pain and anger and regurgitating more of both, funneling in more and more people to crowd into their immaterial coliseum to purchase ideas, opinions, bread, circuses, feuds, mindsets, a common, neutered language, whatever other fucking bullshit, including unhinged conspiratorial nonsense stitched from whole cloth and anti-semitic science fiction. 

The currency? Why, basically free. You got the juice and a portal and a way to get the signal, you might even think you get the rest for absolutely free. But there is always a charge in this world, starting with the calorie, and on internet you pay in time and attention, which the aforementioned robber barons and slaves-turned-masters realized early on is more valuable than any other resource in the world. Now that, you give away for free, although there is case to be made for the idea that you are, in fact, paying for the privilege to give it away and then have it sold back to you.

Life is rife with such comedies, and was long before internet, but it has been just a thrill ride to see the process take place so quickly, to hear about the old days and the true frontier era as I grew up, to be a part of the first large colonies and explorations in the time of the dot com boom, the puncture, the renaissance, the premodern forms of internet, and then, to have become a worthless old relic typing away into a blog--a fucking blog! lmao--the online equivalent of a typewriter in a derelict old cabin on the stony shore of a frozen lake--in this absolutely poisoned and degraded (and worse, prophecied, planned, and executed) merging of meatspace and cyberspace that even now is undergoing another seismic shift and showing new terrain, outgassing some weird shit as it plays out. 

Well, it is the Third World War. Some cracking and tearing of the norm is to be expected. More precisely, it is the latest stage and the beginning of the third peak of what could currently be termed the Global Centennial War, if one had a mind. 

*

Before Ukraine, which I wrote about and hoped would be over with quickly, I had prayed nothing would break out in Europe in the first place, because the odds were good that they would and it would seal the deal. China re: Hong Kong and Taiwan and the U.S. by proxy, Russia's perfectly effective soft power maneuvers, North Korea and South Korea, tensions sliding up in the Middle East--a broad and engaging stripe of potential energy. A ground war in Europe would close the cordon, and did, and dragged on, and subsequently (with timing so perfect vis a vis the obvious effect on the United States and its election politics that a suspicious man would, well, harbor suspicions) the most globally contentious centennial conflict pops off again, and now, today, it's all basically engaged in a perfect, classic fault line, from northern Ukraine to the South Pacific. The gravity of this line, which was potential and is now smoldering and sparking, pulls everything else in. I say not that it will; it is pulling. We are going for a ride.

*

Anyhow, back in 1996, when it could be optimistically opined that we might not have to deal with any of this kind of fucking horseshit next millenium, I started clicking around internet in order to explore more about the Animorphs books. Of course they got me with books; Scholastic knew what the fuck was up. "Vist the website at..." right on the back-page ads. And I would! Why not? It was in a book!

So I read everything on the site and downloaded and played hours of their little yet robust browser games. I read about other book series, authors, everything that drew my eye on the Scholastic website. And did I want to read more stuff? Well, yes. I'm into that. And it seemed like there was some stuff to read, there on that old internet. It seemed like there was actually more to read, then. There aren't really websites anymore, but there sure used to be. Dozens of the little guys, at least!

*

My reason for going to internet has always been simple: to satisfy my curiosity and explore culture. This very organically led me to play my small roles here and there throughout the twenty years of culture wars birthed in meatspace and tempered, perhaps perfected, in the message board of old. I have seen no real innovation in the deployment of ordinance and the specifics of that ordinance, at any rate; by and large it is the medium that has evolved, or been taken over by it like a cordyceps; the exponentially expanding factors have been area of effect and penetration. The twitterification of national television "news" outlets is a good example of the latter. I knew those Something Awful Buzzfeed motherfuckers had their proof of concept the second I saw a random tweet on a screen behind a newsanchor talking about the tweet. The facebook effect--making the first space online to truly echo in form and function the sparse, corporate, eternally-tweaking, never-changing, smooth-eyeball smooth-brain virtual reality of Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash--served to pull in millions upon millions of the uninitiated, like a wave of immigrants to a new world, induced with pleasures and opportunities but in fact there to serve as a resource, to be strip-mined, to be pickpocketed, to be manipulated and tricked and herded like the cattle they regrettably are. 

The weaponization of dangerously alienated and isolated individuals (a common and natural consequence of fundamentally inhuman and hypocritical society, whose schools are the presages and pipelines to its prisons) is an example of collateral damage, fed into and further weaponized by the very systems that created these conditions. Like so much else, it predates the internet--see Richard Wright's Native Son for a compelling narrative exemplifying this--but has been accelerated by its machinations and their interbreeding with the overarching aims of mass media. Roland Barthes' Mythologies is a good book to look at too. Erich Fromm's Escape from Freedom, while we're listing shit that helps explain how fucked up our situation is. 

Now we have a whole nation under basically a four-point, double-blind hermenutical delusion enchantment. Not for nothing; a binary division makes both sides easy to play against the middle. A chatter war with very real, on-the-ground, in-your-face consequences, and you need look no further than the events of January 6th 2021 to see documentary-style proof. It ends in blood. Sorry to be such a downer about imminent conflict on these grand dramatic scales in this post, but them's the times*. I'm livin' through history just like you, baby. I mentioned acceleration in the last paragraph--an important theme when discussing internet and its whip-fast tentacles. Since this seems to be the post I reccommend all kinds of supplementary texts, and I mentioned documentary-style proof, Andrew Callaghan's work in This Place Rules is everything that I could have personally asked someone to make on the subject. That dude knows his shit and how to wade through it. For being one of the only journalists in America--by virtue of not really being one, plus the benefit of a solid head and a suite of personal qualities that lend themselves to the task--a natural, in other words--I would like to take this opportunity to extend formal appreciations.

*

Before wikipedia, which I look at every day, there were lots of websites just about sharing information, telling stories, making informative stuff people could access. Message boards are still the place for the deep wisdoms, if you can sift through the wreckage and ignore the limpets clinging to the hulls of those great ruined ships. There was this really great mythology website, just top-shelf that I read all the time. There was also a website where a man detailed his experiences and the ins and outs of having sex with dolphins in the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary, a story I love to tell. Eat your heart out, Margaret Lovatt.

The first piece of video pornography on the internet that I ever saw was of what appeared to be a college girl who had a German Shepherd in her tiny dorm room. She let that dog fuck her, dear reader, and my twelve-year old mind, which thought itself hardened by its first season of education at the hands of print smut and jpegs, lay cleaved in twain. I had no concept, even less concept of filming something like that and distributing it. Who is this for? I remember thinking, over and over. Well, plenty of people; in the no-holds-barred, no-one-the-fuck-is-looking days of yore, bestiality porn was crazy prolific. 

Check this out: I had to see what some stupid fucking train tickets cost for some stupid fucking homework. I typed "amtrac" into the search bar by accident. It took me to a website that at first blush looked reasonably like the entrance site to buy tickets for a train; logo, the colors looked right, yada yada. But there were no links or text fields. At least, I thought so, until I saw a little button at the bottom, kind of popping out in yellow and green on that dark blue and white page. It said "Extra". Well, what is extra? Why not find out?

Extra is like seventy popups. Girl sucks goat penis, girl puts a fish or a snake up her vagina, girl fucks dog after dog after dog, and of course, the holy grail and crown jewels, girls take horse cocks. Girl fucks lion was probably fake, gorilla too. But like I said, I go on the internet because I'm curious. I know exactly what a goat penis looks like, and the logistics of getting one in your mouth. I don't know who gets off on seeing a girl put a fish inside her, but I've seen the thing done.

I've seen a lot of things done, on internet. It's not all just reading. And when you've seen stuff like that, you have to know what the fuck else people get up to and--for the love of god!--post where people can look at it. I was a teenager, and I did my job: I made it my business to look at every kind of pornography people made, and think about why they made it. Yes, dear reader, I am not made of stone--I looked at stuff for myself, for the purposes of ejaculation--not the stuff with animals. But that represents only the well-worn comfortable patch close to home, my humble knowings of what I want, which is straightforward and quotidian, with a high production value. Stories are good. Yet in my zeal for discovery, for novelty, for the unimaginable, the psychology and effort of it all, I roamed very far afield indeed. 

Eventually, I had to concede. It's anything. People will fuck anything and get turned on by the idea of turning into anything and fucking anything while it turns into something else. There is no limit. We'd turn into a gas and fuck other gases if we could. We'd let Pyramid Head rip off our whole skins if we were convinved it would get our rocks off like never before, one last time. Thousands of people, perhaps tens of thousands, have probably already masturbated to that fantasy.

Eventually, I also had to conclude that in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand, sex stuff is not really creepy or scary or even that strange. Our culture makes even missionary-style for the furtherance of the species a thing of deep and brutal shame, something ugly and dangerous to show and see and know about. But sex is sex. People have a drive, and it is bound up with identity and creativity and embodiment in miltitudinous ways. Mostly, we could stand to leave each other alone about it and have our shit out in the open where it can be a thing of daylight. Also the line between fantasy and reality is generally thick, and the translation from ideal to practical typically fairly modest, and if it has its risks, so does every other human behavior. Even that old missionary can result in penile breakage and vaginal tearing. It's not a safe act, and that statement is manifold--disease, unintended progeny, improbable lighntning strike.

Which brings us to the actual scary shit, which I don't really want to give any power to in this space. That stuff can stay in the dark. The dark is quite good for some things.

*

 

Look. You can't get that far into seriously discussing internet without discussing bestiality, and bestiality-adjacent phenomena. Definitely internet is basically synonymous with pornography, not to say sex crime. But I'll definitely say sex crime; there's a whole TV show been running for decades about just that.

Guess I should say that you know, the complex issue of having sex with animals, having sex with objects you've anthropomorphized, like pillows or hunting bows or the Eiffel Tower, having sex with anyone or anything--all complicated, all brutally simple--is that we are certainly animals, never more animals that around the issue of and in the throes of sex, and to humanize sex, to moralize around it, is equally complicated and can be as easily and as destructively harmful to society as not giving it any thought or effort at all. People should not be demonized no matter how outsized their proclivities, certainly not in a broad stroke based on sharing those proclivities. 

Also I would like to point out that while people wring their hands very publicly about fetishists and drag queens and trans people, hundreds of thousands of women and girls and thousands of men and boys across this continent are very quietly and matter-of-factly being sold into and existing in sexual slavery, which is not really a political hot button issue for some reason, except when it's totally fake. 

*

All that being as it is, as individuals we are the first in the line when it comes to understanding and regulating our own actions, and there is no doubt that actions in the sexual realm carry a certain existential weight. So, we must have our own rules and values. We must set boundaries that matter. Here are mine:

-Don't fuck without consent. 

-Animals basically can't really consent; if they fuck you, to my mind it's basically because you tricked them. Furries are a distinctly human-type-sentient subset of animals and are not the locus of this discussion, but it should be easy to find that if you want it.

-Don't fuck children or teenagers, their consent is not the same as your consent; curiosity, trust, and compliance are distinct from consent and are not replacements for consent. It is much worse than a trick no matter who you think you are or what you tell yourself you're actually doing.

-Don't fuck without consent, even if you need to bleed or draw blood or worse. Guess you could call yourself unlucky, but you're gotta figure out how to get what you need consensually. Hopefully safely and preventatively against infections.

-Again: don't fuck without consent, the more specific, the better, and don't abuse consent by throwing anybody any curveballs en flagrante delicto. 

-Making erotic drawings or generating overtly positive written or filmed portrayals of anything that breaks these rules is a pretty fucked up thing to do too. Using art and the position of the artist to wield power and influence over consent is not consent, and you don't fuck without consent.

Personally I think these are extremely basic and leave room for probably ninety-five percent of the crazy shit I've seen online. If you can't hang with these rules, well, it would be better that we never meet, we shall certainly not fraternize, and don't let me catch you doing your dirt, because probably what I will do is administer a forcible halt. This will very likely involve strong prejudice on my part, and that's just the breaks. 

*

We just finished rewatching the first season of True Detective, so maybe I'm a little nerve-frayed on sex violence and the fucked-up conditions we live under at the moment. 

Didn't think I'd end up talking about that stuff! Any of that stuff. I had no idea, when I fired up the text field, that this would happen. Am I really going to hit that publish button? I guess at this point it'd be dishonest not to.

--JL

*remember how wrong I was about Kanye vs Oprah 2020, though? I could be wrong like that again. We can only pray.

#269

Oh, depression. Oh, the will to death. How does one say it in German? There was once a blog of invented words for real feelings. I will search for it now. 

*

Ah, yes. The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. Seems it is not only text onscreen, but a hardcover book, which reached that bestseller list published by that main newspaper. This is very cheering; I fully expected to find nothing but vague references and one of those shell websites trying to direct you towards buying fake plane tickets. 

Anyway, depression, but sometimes something weird and fantastic and necessary and, INDEED, obscure, does not vanish in your wake like so much else, and stays. One of the counter spells that makes survival in the face of depression and existential angst possible and durable.

Idly but consistently thinking about durability these days. The concept, its applications. Nothing concentrated, many wide-ranging and useless thoughts. This is my favorite kind of thinking. Doing my favorite kinds of thinking instead of the more practical varieties is another thing that makes surviving depression possible. 

*

Losing my computer to its own lack of decent durability, software and hardware-wise alike, and being unable to replace it when it breaks or transfer the contents to a new box has been a real fuckin problem in life. It's happened once during the course of this blog, which I touched on in due course, but that was merely the latest chapter in a whole sordid section of the JL Encyclopedia. 

Ugh. I am not deleting that last sentence in order to try and teach myself a lesson.

*

The first family computer I can remember using was a Macintosh Quadra, no idea which and I really don't want to talk to my folks about jack shit right now so who knows. Definitely a Quadra model, though. I played Kid Pix and Thinkin' Things on that machine, and nothing else. The years were 1993 and 1994. The builds of those computer programs were fucking badass back then; later versions of Kid Pix always felt too smooth to me, like they'd taken away a cool toy and given me back something similar in shape but covered in padded foam. It's who I am as a person, clearly; most people think internet has actually gotten better. Either I'm just a retrograde lunatic and have been since I was a baby, or almost all originally cool shit has to get warped and ruined beyond all recognition in the direction of stupidity verging on intentional evil due to, I don't fucking know, the influence of Ahriman. I didn't even need to look at a single frame of the so-called Cowboy Bebop "reboot", "remake"--whatever the fuck they wanted to call that organ of cultural rape--to know the score.

Thinkin' Things aesthetic and gameplay got worse with the next version release and I couldn't look at it anymore. Forced to leave childish things behind and having rehashed the material within Mega Math Blaster, The Hunchback of Notre Dame game from Disney Interactive, and Reader Rabbit 2 to exhaustion, I moved on to Duke Nukem 3D. Guess some people played Oregon Trail or something at that age, but I had kind of a fucked-up childhood in some ways. 

*

Aside: my contemporaries and I went straight from Lincoln Logs and that ancient phone toy that made a cameo appearance in Toy Story 3--you know the one, the original Fisher Price Chatter Phone--to computer programs, and we were the second or third wave of kids and teens on internet. I don't think my parents, or anyone's parents, were prepared for this event in childrearing, but almost every one of my contemporaries, even the stupidest pieces of shit, were smarter in key ways than their parents by incredible margins, even the scientist parents. It's just how we grew up. From this we may derive that my own offspring will process me as hyperefficient biofuel before they turn eight, and that's just evolution, baby. Up the children. May I be utilized in order to be surpassed by significant margins in every metric.

*

The next computer in the house was a Compaq Presario, which makes plenty of sense. It was the mid-nineteen-nineties and we had just moved to the U.S.A., and Compaq was first among equals in the PC revolution. I have no idea what models the computers were at the computer lab in my first U.S. elementary school, but they were dependable and very usable machines. I started to learn Python on those computers; that great little turtle.

Woof! History truly is crazy. Look at computers now! The ubiquity, the gleam, the power! I miss those gray boxes designed by those Texas Instruments men. I miss that they whined like jet engines and got hotter than the devil's taint just to read a CD-ROM. I miss only pixels, no one even imagining the concept of the Retina display I'm looking at as I type this (hilarious that retina gets capitalized automatically in this context. Someday, in the future, we will not be able to publish a single thing in "our own words" without auto-signing a dozen agreements about how they're not our words, they are a company's words).

At my Catholic school later in the nineties when we had moved back to Venezuela for awhile, the computer lab was outfitted with IBM PC's from 1981 or even before, I don't fuckin know. In this case, when I say PC, I may not mean personal computer, but the older conception of portable computer. If they read floppy discs, that was a recent breakthrough at date of production. I remember the point of the class was to make them process typing into word display and perform input on very basic equations. The screens were uniformly black and white, expressing only straight lines.

The next year, back in the 'States, they herded me into the computer labs at the more upper-crust elementary school where I did fifth grade and I was confronted with serried ranks of pink iMacs. I don't remember what they tried to teach us, if anything. This gave me much to think about, at the time. 

Dude, the mouses on those iMacs sucked, in my personal assay. Fancy lasers my ass.

*

My first internet thing was visiting the Animorphs website for the games and blog and boards and chat rooms (the chat rooms were too rich for my bandwidth, but I read about them elsewhere). A heady time, these early internet message boards for teens, and of course, snotty little punks reading above their weight. The Scholastic website, to which the Animorph's website naturally swore fealty, was a pretty good website. You could market, but you couldn't sell directly or monetize advertisement yet, so the content was mostly just good and descriptive stuff about kid lit and intermediate lit and all the other literature that's better than Literature. Plus, when it came to the flagship titles and series, interactive stuff crafted before online interactivity carried the price of your immortal soul, like the Animorphs flash games.

Oh yeah, triple-A Flash games, in the times well before Flash games could pop up and steal your data after you managed to shoot the monkey or whatever the fuck, which was well before actual quality FG aggregators or the recognized quality of stuff like Puzzle Pirates.

*

Remembering shit can be fucking exhausting. I guess that's Classic Aging, folks. It gets to feel like so much stuff happened, how could it even be true? Certainly there's no way to remember. World memory--durable? No. No, all this could easily be gone and forgotten again, and a new world of men might rise higher than we ever managed to over the unseen ruins of this near-failure of ours. Those humans might never look down, never know that we were here, except in the origins of their oldest stories--tales of a technological godlessness cast down for its reeking hubris.

Yes, I am saying that we are Atlantis 2.0 and we are obviously a worse and shittier program than Atlantis 1.0, which dovetails with my earlier observations concerning programs. For whatever that is worth (less than zero probably).

*

This has been Computers Day here on FP, I guess. Next time I'll try to finish this and talk more about whatever I talked about last time, but you know how I am, dear reader.

Be well, and be good, be virtuous and true, and if it gets you nowhere and you get fucked over and killed, at least you'll be in happy company.

--JL

#188

Just want to say that to me, using the word "Libra" as a proper noun for your currency sounds too much like Final Fantasy, first and least of all. I think you fucked up, facebook*. It's not tough to get what their marketers were going for, you know, liberation, unchaining the world through the blockchain (irony**), it is the Spanish word for granting or gaining freedom, certain currencies, and also the pound in ounces, which is also a former British currency, the British being the arguable founders of modern currency and banking, but this is the new shit and the revolution because Libra, etc. 

But look. Look. Don't name your currency the same as an astrological sign, no matter how obvious the symbol is for what you are trying to do (the scales invoke justice and balance, like facebook is very concerned about what is fair and just). Someone should have stopped you a long time ago. I am glad that you are not trying to cure cancer, facebook people.

Guess a bunch of people are on board, though. They'll make money hand over fist for a second, before facebook fucks each and every last one of us right up the ass and for real something like Black Monday goes down, once again with our own personal lives collectively raining out the windows along with the cashrats who played so fast and loose with them.

*

So. The Internet. 

Referring to internet just so, as though I were pointing at a dog without a name, is a quirk I picked up from Jeffrey Rowland of Wigu fame, internet's poet cowboy godfather. Maybe this assessment of the man's imprint is specialized; one of those "you had to be there, in order to think and feel as I do" things (everything? "you had to be there" is one of the most boner-killing tautologies, and it's usually hiding a kind of lie). But as I discussed yesterday, breaking ground is deceptively humble, and everything that comes after must make it seem tame and quaint.

This is known as proof of concept.

*

It begins and ends with webcomics, of course. I liked the internet okay initially as an information-gathering and communication tool (as I will confess, I was not always such a lurker), but the .jpeg had to hit its stride before internet truly seized my faculties. I started using internet about 1998, but did not truly get into it till 2002, and wasn't deep till 2003. Webcomics were the portal, the food that drew me to the rabbit hole, and they were themselves a great object lesson in how internet culture was to refract, warp, bend, and ultimately give rise to establishment and merge with a corporate economy. Among other things.

*

When I say deep, I think of individuals that were among the first perusing snuff sites and buying sex slaves that come with a bonus bag of heroin crammed into their rectum, or were building their own open-source operating systems in order to make themselves into powerful virtual entities by various computing methods. When I say deep, I do not mean that I have posts out there on defunct forums that told all my "friends" how to crack the system into a million triangular little eggshells and from the slimy mess that is the corpse of the Deep State raise up a new and perfect society. To simplify greatly. I am not claiming anything approaching the hardcore when I say "deep". I don't know how to code.

What I like to do it just take a good long look at whatever I happen to find, and what I have happened to find includes resources for all of the above and a world's worth more. Thing is, it is very very easy to look around on internet (you just click around, that's how it works), you can go very very far without actually doing anything, and you only matter if you make yourself matter. You can get very good at knowing where to go for interesting new ideas, unusual art, and the type of news that doesn't make the news, and without wasting a ton of time typing, you can get a lot done every day.

All I can really say is that I have looked at a lot of words and pictures on internet. But when I say a lot, I mean a fucking lot. I don't even so much as surf incognito. The volume and breadth of my trawling is its own signature and its own defense. Also the stuff I check if  I'm just quick popping open the browser to do my little routine is so pedestrian it's laughable. Just picture me opening a newspaper and skipping straight to the funnies in a sunny kitchen, a cup of coffee at my elbow and my tie an affable half-windsor, my hat waiting for me on its peg and the dog content with its water dish and large white bone. A federal agent literally thinks of this man as their best customer as they go about their work.

*

Social media brought every toxic thing we learned how to hurt and troll each other with on forums into public life, right up to how our elected representatives seem and behave. That's okay. We will either digest this poison and mature as a culture or tear ourselves apart and what is left can try and learn. 

*

Okay, more internet tomorrow! Got stuff to do.

internet, internet, the world wide web, if you were really any good, you'd have gotten us Jeb!


--JL

*every time I say facebook has fucked up or done something wrong they make another billion dollars net and change society for the worse/more interesting, so this is very good for them and presumably for the blockchain. Don't say I never did nothin' for ya. I'm totally kidding about this fucking evil company ruining the world by getting directly into the money these fuckers have shown their blue-and-white sigil and it is spattered with gore and human pulp how is this company still legal why has no one stopped them fffffffffffffffffffffffffffff***

**this is why Amazon is the company that is good at irony and facebook is staffed by affectless psychopaths who think they're philosopher-rogues: facebook's most ironic thing will always be their company name, and Amazon never offers any explanation for actions which seem destructive but which over the long-term solve problems those who loudest cried "foul" on Amazon had always wanted solved and never did. Amazon continually draws pistols from its coat and points them at the forehead of the terrified consumer. Their face grim stone, Amazon pulls the trigger, and a little flag that says "BANG!" shoots out and a puppy appears in the consumer's arms. Elsewhere, a CEO's head explodes and a whole industry collapses, its ancient bones serving as a delicious and powerful fertilizer for the new economy. Meanwhile facebook changed how the things on its hell of ass website are organized and sold a picture of your kid's genitals to a German murderer while giving the sum total of your human data away for free to people who cosplay as the Illuminati. (this is a cola war scenario of course, I like Amazon better for wholly personal reasons but none of these fucks are your friends; you are their food and never forget it)

***seriously congress is all "facebook demons, are you bad?" and they tell congress, "No! We are good!" and congress is all "Then do you know how I can get my printer to talk to my screen?" and now it's all "We're gonna save the world by giving everybody money-power! Did you know that not everybody can even hold money, and this makes things bad? Now everybody can hold money, though! If someone robs you blind, we can give you more to hold, no problem!" and Visa and Spotify and lord knows who else are all "Sounds real, let's go" and everyone in the facebook building rubs their little claws together and slips their forked tongues out from between their lips.****

****ok who cares though ultimately I am being a Chicken Little about all this, get out of here and try to have a good day without thinking about internet anymore, that's my plan