Fill Up the Tub

Thursday, August 06, 2009

World People, we have a problem. No, wait. Not a problem, a blessing. That blessing is the information age. If I'm on my couch and I want to know what the name of that fighter pilot who flew solo over Japan in WWII was, I go to wikipedia. If I want drama, I go to a blog or a reality TV show. I want to see if my friend in WA is sad? I check Twitter.

Exchange is good. But echange is echange. Remember that. You give, you take. You take, you give. Everything is out there now. Cameras are small and work on remote voice activation. Sound recording devices are the size of a button. Not spy shit, dude. Normal people have this. And when normal people have this, shit gets around. People get angry, suspicious or bored and they start rolling tape. Better, encrypting digital signal on yo ass.

You have a blog with a fake name. Everyone knows its you. BUT, it gives your mind a space to vent with a little wiggle room. It's like the world is on valium or morphine and we all get to hear what people are really thinking. It's not cute.

All of my speculation in the 1990s was right. Human beings are just dying to see their brothers and sisters fall down. They're spending hours and hours monitoring each other for the latest slip. They're hungry for information.

Now, we can get in people's head for real. Even if they never go online, people can put them online. Shit can get freaky. People get caught doing shit now more than ever. eerybody's citizen good cop, officer friendly on their neighbor. Are you in?

Come on. Let's police this place. Let's out our brehteren. Let's fuck shit up and squeal on peoples skeletons. Once we really get cooking, the truth will be laid bare. We're facinated because we're so close to being THAT PERSON... we're one slip away. One bad moment from it. One late bill from it. One angry friend from it. We're all their and we're all scared, thrilled and about to be outed big time.

We are all dangerous, unhinged, dirty, twisted beings, writhing around like worms in the mud. Blind and weak. We project a giant ego on a screen and play that it's us... but we know. We're oh so close to being told on.

Outed.

Who will be the next scandal? The next rumor victim? Public inside joke?

You?