While the readers of YDIS are taking bets on how long it will take before my head explodes and I crumble into a weeping pool of jelly locked up in an asylum somewhere; and while I am threatened with the destroying the livelihood of some people; and while I am chastised one more time for being a bad person with bad motives who needs to learn how not to be bad ... I have to tell you all, the internet is a funny, frustrating, wonderful place.
As much as I feel we will all soon be serfs forced to work by law for some company who will deny our right to quit, seek a better position or even advance from within, and as much as I feel the future holds the promise that things will get much, much worse than they already are, I am glad that I live in the time that I live in. I am glad for the proliferation of porn, for the opportunity to speak to large numbers of persons without the need for spending cash out of my pocket, the fingertip response to the obtaining of information on every possible subject, both approved and disapproved. I am glad for the opportunity to speak my mind and to have others, for good or ill, speak back their minds to me. This is a great time. This is more fun than the inventors of barrels and monkeys could have ever hoped to devise. It's a thrill to know that having my mind entertained for a lifetime requires no more than a chair, a computer and an internet connection ... mostly because my mind knew how to do it before the last of those things was invented.
And so a word for the sake of general information. I am an extraordinarily happy person. Yes, I know, I'm not the writer I still hope to be. I don't possess world domination. But when I am writing about something that matters to me, I'm happy. And when I am kicking the shit out of someone for pissing me off by saying something stupid, I'm happy. There is nothing worse in this world that stupid people saying stupid things and not being called on them. (This is why Jon Stewart ought to be given a personal channel in Canada, government funding and global distribution - so he can go on kicking the crap out of stupidity in the states and he wouldn't have to occasionally kow-tow to the people who pay his salary, something he has to do now and then, like fingernails on a blackboard).
If those persons who I have kicked and hurt find glee in writing blog posts about me and my insanity, my blindness or my obvious mental retardation, good for them. If, however, they feel that somehow said blogposts will affect my behavior in such a way as to hurt my ego, it might help if those posts were not written within hours of my writing something here. Oh yes, woe is me, my ego has been well and truly crushed, so many times, by such instant and - I have to say - predictable attention.
Sometimes I think I am providing a small cottage industry for bloggers who have run out of things to say about things that really matter, so that they can gain a few more followers and a little bounce on their blog hits - and thus their own egos - because I am there to hate.
Well, let us all lift our egos together in song. These are wonderful days, and they will not come again.