I dislike being on the Internet. For years I survived with just hotmail and I hated that. I used to get mail from people, letters in their own hand that told me what they were doing and how they felt and where they thought their lives were going. I could put a letter between the pages of a favorite book. I had something to save from that moment. It was personal and it was meant for me. Someone took the time to organize their thoughts and share a piece of their life.
I have friends who write me and save my letters, but every year they are fewer and farther between. Now I get Internet Christmas cards. People write the same two lines month after month. Sometimes there are digital pictures attached, which for the most part I can't open. They will never be printed, there are no negatives saved. It all is part of this endless slurry of electronic signal. They come complete with ominous warnings of Phishbot Cookie Monsters and the electronic plague. Pity the nerd who has nothing better to do but cook up Internet nuisances and pry into other people's business.
And this is a world of nerds. All my life I've had to lift things, sharpen them, wrench on it and get it running. The machines in my garage make stuff. If you aren't careful they will rip your hand off. I know diddly about html or how to design a web page. Ask me about placer mining, or welding up wood fired hot water heaters, or grafting fruit trees. Either that or Google it.
So I got a computer a couple of years ago. That had more to do with digital photography than with any desire to surf the net. Surfing for me is south of Puerto Escondido. My computer is just a really expensive typewriter with a lot of pictures stored on it. I rarely log on to the Internet. If I do they say I have to update my updates. Of late I get all these balloons popping up. It would be better if they were from porno sites. They are from Microsoft...odd some midget would name a company after his pecker. My copy of Windows isn't verified! Resolve this now! Hewlett Packard fumbled the ball and the copy of Windows they sent you is no good. These days I tend to bridle when presented with yet another threat that is supposed to send me scurrying to the safety of some benevolent government or corporate agency. Of course Microsoft will verify my copy of Windows for 149.- bucks. Gee! Really mister? What a great deal! Only I ain't buying. Take it up with Hewlett Packard and hope I don't get a Mac in the meantime.
I think of Gregory Peck in that old Moby Dick movie. In the end the whale has him all tangled in harpoon lines and he's getting a little wet. The Internet is this huge tangle of all kinds of nerds and perverts and entrepreneurs and tourists. I think the thing I dislike the most is the spelling. After that it's the odd lurking leech who can't get laid or produce any viable energy on his or her own part. They are on here mining and mining for something free, something that they can usurp or gain without any effort or commitment. That's a whole other blog. Watch for it. I spend hours and hours alone on a different kind of machine. It's going round and round really fast and I stick a rock into it and I change the shape to something that suits me, that suits a lot of people. That's a whole other blog too. I get to think about stuff and when I get it on here maybe I'll untangle it enough that it might make sense. Maybe not to the whale but to anyone with any savvy or sense it might be worth a look. You might even learn something about harpoons...Gotta run....P
I have friends who write me and save my letters, but every year they are fewer and farther between. Now I get Internet Christmas cards. People write the same two lines month after month. Sometimes there are digital pictures attached, which for the most part I can't open. They will never be printed, there are no negatives saved. It all is part of this endless slurry of electronic signal. They come complete with ominous warnings of Phishbot Cookie Monsters and the electronic plague. Pity the nerd who has nothing better to do but cook up Internet nuisances and pry into other people's business.
And this is a world of nerds. All my life I've had to lift things, sharpen them, wrench on it and get it running. The machines in my garage make stuff. If you aren't careful they will rip your hand off. I know diddly about html or how to design a web page. Ask me about placer mining, or welding up wood fired hot water heaters, or grafting fruit trees. Either that or Google it.
So I got a computer a couple of years ago. That had more to do with digital photography than with any desire to surf the net. Surfing for me is south of Puerto Escondido. My computer is just a really expensive typewriter with a lot of pictures stored on it. I rarely log on to the Internet. If I do they say I have to update my updates. Of late I get all these balloons popping up. It would be better if they were from porno sites. They are from Microsoft...odd some midget would name a company after his pecker. My copy of Windows isn't verified! Resolve this now! Hewlett Packard fumbled the ball and the copy of Windows they sent you is no good. These days I tend to bridle when presented with yet another threat that is supposed to send me scurrying to the safety of some benevolent government or corporate agency. Of course Microsoft will verify my copy of Windows for 149.- bucks. Gee! Really mister? What a great deal! Only I ain't buying. Take it up with Hewlett Packard and hope I don't get a Mac in the meantime.
I think of Gregory Peck in that old Moby Dick movie. In the end the whale has him all tangled in harpoon lines and he's getting a little wet. The Internet is this huge tangle of all kinds of nerds and perverts and entrepreneurs and tourists. I think the thing I dislike the most is the spelling. After that it's the odd lurking leech who can't get laid or produce any viable energy on his or her own part. They are on here mining and mining for something free, something that they can usurp or gain without any effort or commitment. That's a whole other blog. Watch for it. I spend hours and hours alone on a different kind of machine. It's going round and round really fast and I stick a rock into it and I change the shape to something that suits me, that suits a lot of people. That's a whole other blog too. I get to think about stuff and when I get it on here maybe I'll untangle it enough that it might make sense. Maybe not to the whale but to anyone with any savvy or sense it might be worth a look. You might even learn something about harpoons...Gotta run....P
