If The Internet Disappeared: Staying Off The Grid
The following is the eighth entry we've published from a journal found in a dumpster in Bayside, New York. Little is known about its origin, but judging from the title "Notes from the Internet Apocalypse, 2013," it comes from the future. Oh, and Gladstone wrote it. We do know that. But the Gladstone we know or future Gladstone? It's almost impossible to say. Nevertheless, it is reprinted here as a cautionary tale ... DAY 50: THE INTERNET MESSIAH Sometimes you just do things without knowing why. When Jeeves dubbed me the Internet messiah, I started running. Maybe it was because he had seemed so collected and self-possessed moments before and now was gasping for words and pointing at me in spasmodic fits. Maybe it was the hunger clawing out from the sunken eyes of the YouTube zombies. Or maybe it was the crippling attention of Central Park. But I ran as fast and as far as I could, and Tobey and Oz, either possessed by the same spirit or just trying to look after me, followed.It wasn't hard to outrun Jeeves. He started coughing and spitting after only a few steps, but from the bouncing blur of my peripheral vision, I could see inquisitive pedestrians take his place. They turned and pointed and joined the herd one by one. Oz kept pace with me, dressed more functionally today in a pair of a jeans and Doc Martens. Tobey was hauling ass a few steps behind with a huge grin on his face."You think this is A Hard Day's Night or something?" I called over my shoulder."I don't know what that is." "I hate you, Tobey."We ran past the joggers and baby strollers. The hackey sackers and caricaturists. The lovers taking walks and married couples washing off dropped pacifiers with bottled water. But by the time we got to the dude selling Tweety Bird ice cream pops out of his push cart, the YouTube zombies had started closing in. Tobey reached down for a fallen branch without breaking stride and swung it around across the zombie's face. Everything froze before the crack had even stopped reverberating through the Park. Oz and I watched to see what would happen next as did the chasers slowly circling us.The zombie, on all fours and bleeding from the mouth, made a horrible groan as he reached up and out. Tobey brought the remnants of the branch down on his head and was about to swing again when I screamed out."What are you doing?""What?" Tobey replied. "I gotta destroy the brain!" "You realize that's not a real zombie, right? It's just an expression.""C'mon! Is this the Internet Apocalypse or what?" Tobey asked."He's not the undead," Oz explained. "It's just an Internet-addicted human who-"Just then I kicked the zombie hard in the face. "Gladstone! What the fuck?" Oz screamed."Look," I said. There, on the back of the unconscious zombie was a T-shirt reading "Fred Rules."Oz shrugged off her concern. "Fair enough."Unfortunately, in the time it took to down one zombie, 20 more had surrounded us. And then there were the fifty more Park visitors all closing in. "Will you bring us Facebook?" a 16-year-old girl asked."Twitter first!" her friend demanded. "I have no idea what Ashton Kutcher's been doing."The requests became too many."When can I stream Netflix again?""I had my high score on
The Notes from the Internet Apocalypse finale is coming in two weeks so catch up, starting here. You can also keep up with the latest Internet Apocalypse news on Facebook. And/or follow Gladstone on Twitter. And then there's his site and fan page.
See why losing the Internet may not be such a bad thing in 6 New Personality Disorders Caused by the Internet. And more from Gladstone in A Practical Guide To Sexting (For Men Over 30).