Another today
Today I have "Star Me Kitten" by R.E.M. stuck in my head for no discernable reason.
Today I received an email from a person I don't know asking me to stop visiting his blog, and it's really knocked the wind out of my sails. I posted a comment on a post he had up about toilet paper, and he emailed me and told me he'd prefer for his blog to remain "friends and family only." At this point I don't even remember how I'd stumbled across it, but I'd been reading it pretty regularly, as I'm assuming you folks read this one. Of course I'll honor his request. I don't know why he'd start the blog if he didn't want people to see it, but "this heat" (new euphemism) does weird things to people. Lots of people don't want to drwa any more attention to themselves than is necessary. The outbreak took the lid off a lot of things and I don't know if we'll ever be able to put them back. How many people have you killed, for example? Live people, I mean, since this started? And how many of those of you who've killed are now in prison or awaiting trial? You see? Have you stolen cars or food or appliances knowing full well that you will never be prosecuted even if anyone knew? We've all gone a little bit predator, just as we've all gone a little bit prey. (I still wonder what my subconscious was up to when I blacked out and roamed the streets at night, or when my entire family drove from Long Island to Boston. Actually, I DON'T wonder, which is my point.)
But more than all that, today, it's the simple request to delink and de-visit that's hit me so hard. I start feeling like most everything is futile, especially attempts at recreating normalcy, and that there's no real human connections to be had. Like, there's nothing that you can do that will have a lasting impact a hundred years from now, so what's the point? Do you ever feel that way?
Amy's asleep in the other room. Maybe with the cat, I don't know. We had another one of those "What do you want to do?" "I don't know, what do YOU want to do?" "Whatever YOU want to do" semi-fights, and I think she just gave up and took a nap. I've been roaming around the Internet, looking at photos of hipster parties taken before, and getting asked not to visit people's sites anymore. Has anyone else noticed that Angelfire is gone? There are no Angelfire sites anymore. And my first reaction to discovering this was "ha ha, fuckers, serves you right for being such dickheads about hotlinking to your images, even through Google image searches, fucking lameasses." Angelfire, shit, that reminds me of surfing the internet in college almost nine years ago now. Looking for sites dedicated to the Prodigy and KMFDM and the Illuminatus! Trilogy. Bad html backgrounds. Now what the fuck happened to them, they're phased out.
Today I received an email from a person I don't know asking me to stop visiting his blog, and it's really knocked the wind out of my sails. I posted a comment on a post he had up about toilet paper, and he emailed me and told me he'd prefer for his blog to remain "friends and family only." At this point I don't even remember how I'd stumbled across it, but I'd been reading it pretty regularly, as I'm assuming you folks read this one. Of course I'll honor his request. I don't know why he'd start the blog if he didn't want people to see it, but "this heat" (new euphemism) does weird things to people. Lots of people don't want to drwa any more attention to themselves than is necessary. The outbreak took the lid off a lot of things and I don't know if we'll ever be able to put them back. How many people have you killed, for example? Live people, I mean, since this started? And how many of those of you who've killed are now in prison or awaiting trial? You see? Have you stolen cars or food or appliances knowing full well that you will never be prosecuted even if anyone knew? We've all gone a little bit predator, just as we've all gone a little bit prey. (I still wonder what my subconscious was up to when I blacked out and roamed the streets at night, or when my entire family drove from Long Island to Boston. Actually, I DON'T wonder, which is my point.)
But more than all that, today, it's the simple request to delink and de-visit that's hit me so hard. I start feeling like most everything is futile, especially attempts at recreating normalcy, and that there's no real human connections to be had. Like, there's nothing that you can do that will have a lasting impact a hundred years from now, so what's the point? Do you ever feel that way?
Amy's asleep in the other room. Maybe with the cat, I don't know. We had another one of those "What do you want to do?" "I don't know, what do YOU want to do?" "Whatever YOU want to do" semi-fights, and I think she just gave up and took a nap. I've been roaming around the Internet, looking at photos of hipster parties taken before, and getting asked not to visit people's sites anymore. Has anyone else noticed that Angelfire is gone? There are no Angelfire sites anymore. And my first reaction to discovering this was "ha ha, fuckers, serves you right for being such dickheads about hotlinking to your images, even through Google image searches, fucking lameasses." Angelfire, shit, that reminds me of surfing the internet in college almost nine years ago now. Looking for sites dedicated to the Prodigy and KMFDM and the Illuminatus! Trilogy. Bad html backgrounds. Now what the fuck happened to them, they're phased out.
posted by Sean T. Collins at 4:44 PM
3 Comments:
Just to be evil, you should have posted a link to the guy's site so we could flood it with comments. That's weird.
Yeah. I appreciate the sentiment on my behalf, but I'm not angry at the guy and I don't want to give him any grief. I'm just weirded out by it. It makes me sad.
I've also got to wonder if he's done this with any other visitors, and if they've all gone along with his wishes the way I have. I wonder what the origin of this desire of his really is, too. Idle speculation is an excellent time-killer.
what a prick. fuck him. we need community now more than ever. post the link. LOL. fucker.
oh, I think i'm up to 19, still not in prison and three cars. might be four.
ha! see why I just can't go back to a fucking little office bullshit job? i just can't get behind that again.
no sir.
imagine it... "Bill, you need to remember to put a cover letter on your TPS reports, ok?" and then I just fucking blow his head off and take his coffee and dry goods. yeah how's buckshot taste, Jimbo?.
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