If Columbus Had Explored The Internet
Columbus Day is more than just about celebrating a man, it's about remembering a time when Mother Earth still seemed mysterious, wild and unpredictable. Sadly, in 2010 there is little left of her body to explore; it's nearly impossible to find an area of the world that isn't blemished by the welted handprint of humanity.
A McDonald's on every corner, like Columbus envisioned.
However, the expansion of the Internet over the past decade has revealed a new terra incognita online. So, on this momentous day in history I am announcing my bid to become the one true Internet Explorer. For the past few weeks I have journeyed through the Internet and documented my travels with such humbling clarity and insightful insight that it will stand as proof of my abilities. My only hope is that some years in the future-when comment sections are finally blessed with civility and literacy, and all the LOL Cats have been hunted into extinction-that I am remembered with some commemorative statue or at least a holiday to honor me, the one man who pioneered reason in this grand expanse of chaos that is the Internet.
I think I'm pronouncing that right.It was titled, "Let's Chat." It requested, "Just phone play and pics." I responded and the interaction began immediately with texts. The full exchange is documented below: Soren: Hello. DivaGina: Im 5'2/110/Ccup. Soren: OK. DivaGina: Your specs? Pic? Soren: I don't speak your language. DivaGina: Your unit. How big? Soren: My unit is only two strong. It is me and my haunted clown. DivaGina: ? Soren: Sorry, I should have been more specific. It is not a real clown. In fact, looking at it now there isn't much that's clown-like about it. It is haunted by the ghost of a child who died in a tent fire known as the "Day the Clowns Cried." I don't know for certain if the doll was there or how the soul got into the doll but it happened in Har Soren: Sorry, the text cut off because it was too long. I w Soren: Oops, I didn't mean to push send yet. I was going to say "Hartford." DivaGina: You cut/uncut? Soren: Like edited? DivaGina: pssssh. Fuck you. Waist of energy. Soren: Yes, finally. I am curious about your coupling strategies. What is the "Waist of Energy?" Is that a mid-torso chakra thing or a position? DivaGina: Eat a dick. Soren: I hope that's not something I can anticipate from this encoun Soren: God, this keyboard is impossibly small. We never got to the phone play, DivaGina was mysteriously cut off on her end. I was discouraged to lose valuable time with nothing to show for it. I suspected this is how explorers felt when they encountered a river too wide and fast to cross, or more specifically, when they encountered a native who offered phone sex and then disappeared. I attempted to backtrack by typing "Chat" in the search field but it directed me to several other chat sites. I cut my losses and moved on, clicking on the first: Chatroulette.com. I will offer my detailed analysis tomorrow.
Generally the anger manifests itself in defriendings.But the most remarkable characteristic of the Facebook people is that they've built a system without any room for negativity. An individual either "likes" something or moves on, either "joins" a group or "ignores" the invitation. There is no dissent, only silence. The one outlet they have to express indignation or hatred is through the comments, but even that resource is limited to the confusion of their stunted vocabulary and grammar. And yet everyone, for the most part, stays optimistic and happy. It's as though the people understand the importance and gravity of their participation in this new Eden though they lack the cognitive tools to express it. Instead they use the same word repeatedly when describing anything they encounter. "Epic" they say over and over. Everything is epic. "Exactly," I want to tell them, "I am writing one for you as we speak" but I don't understand yet how to post on other walls. I have resigned myself to poking.
"This place has many hearts."I would be lying if I said I wasn't excited as well. I have explored from one end of the internet to another and my journey feels complete. In parting, I would like everyone to consider this undiscovered chunk of Internet real-estate my gift to you. In return, I only ask that sometime in the distant future while you are invested in a philosophical debate on Chatroulette, or while you watch a video posted to your wall of a sleeping college student getting slapped in the face by genitals, that you think of me. I want you to think of me and whisper my name. God, I have given you so much.