At this very moment, I have about a thousand half-finished blog posts, most of them starting with: “Sorry, it’s been WAAAAY too long between posts! I’ve been busy writing new books and working on my boat!”
What a load of shit.
The truth? I get excited about a new piece, write 90% to completion, then pass out before I hit the PUBLISH button, only to wake in the morning, sober up, and realize the stupidity on my mind wasn’t quite up to my “noble” ideal of empowering humanity.
But today things are different!
As I’m having beer for breakfast, trying to figure out just what the fuck is going on in this insane asylum we call Planet Earth, my feeble brain fired its last remaining synapse to connect some new dots that’ve been confuzzling my non-local mind for some time.
[insert holier-than-thou emoticon here]
I guess it comes down to an admission of being completely fucking retarded, and apologizing to the masses that whatever bullshit I was espousing is, once again, completely fucking wrong.
But that’s what personal evolution is all about, right?
[insert holier-than-thou emoticon here]
As I was re-reading some snippets of my last monologue (pronounced BOOK), I stumbled across praise for Duck Duck Go as the “GO-TO” search engine, capable of disempowering the Google overlords.
What a fucking joke.
We’re not gonna do a history lesson here on why or how the Etherweb was created and instilled in our lives, but I’ll share a story with you…
There was a time in my youth when I was engrossed in a meaningless endeavour to study “engineering” at the University of Toronto. That’s when I first came across ‘the Web,’ long before AOL ever announced the phrase, “You’ve got porn!”
Some dude walked up to me in our “computer” class, and suggested I could find information about whatever the fuck I wanted if I understood coding. I spent 5 years telling people that “.ca” meant I learned free information about guitar chords from California.
Fuck me. Poor, Stupid me.
Did I have a point to this story? Oh yeah, sorry, still drinking…
Back in the day, the Etherweb was the wild wild west. You could search whatever the fuck you wanted, and get ideas to blow your fucking mind. A dedicated search on Google would give you whatever free movie you wanted to watch, along with ideas on how to kill a hooker and bury her body without fear of leaving DNA evidence to link you to the crime.
Not so much now.
The Interweb is a data-mining tool.. insidiously crafted to suck the bizarre thoughts that exist in your brain to create algorithms to lull you into a deep state of control.
What was my point again?
Oh yeah, the motherfuckers at Duck Duck Go.
It was completely legit at some point, like Google, to suck you into the information age, but I’ll tell you what that search engine is all about these days…
Total fucking control.
Have you ever tried to use a search query on Amazon?
The “search words” you use don’t mean fuck all. The algorithms just pump out whatever THEY think you should buy/learn/need, irrelevant of your specificity.
[Specificity? See Inception]
I’m ashamed to share with you that I have links to Instagram and Facebook. I justify my technocratic bondage under the guise of selling books and promoting the BonerFruit website.
[insert hypocrisy emoticon here]
So let’s finally get to the point. The last time I researched electronics and hardware for my boat, through a Duck Duck Go search, it didn’t take long for the endless advertisements for similar products and “suggestions,” to inundate every level of advertising pings my ‘smart’ phone was built for.
The Duck Duck Go marketing declaration, “We don’t track you!” is complete horseshit. And I won’t even get into the play-on-words of duck duck goose.
Fuck you Duck Duck Go, fuck you Google, and fuck everyone who believes we live in a free, open, ‘democratic’ society.
I’m a dupe — a stooge, a puppet, and douchebag. I’ve been played by the system, just like everyone else, and I hate myself for being this completely fucking stupid.
I shout out to the world that I need things like a “MacBook” to be creative — to write books, make art, and communicate my talents to the world!
But do you know what I really need?
A fucking pencil and paper.
And the desire to never again consider trading my talents to procure the bullshit fiat currency that’s meant to keep me in perpetual bondage.
[insert Barter emoticon here]
We used to write shit in clay tablets so the ideas would endure the test of time. The “electronic” age has taught us that “reality” can be amended over the course of a weekend, by scrubbing URL links that don’t conform with the official narrative.
[See the 11th Edition of NewSpeak]
On the topic of clay, I’m gonna watch Ghost again before I pass out, and maybe sing “Unchained Melody” to myself as I weep uncontrollably before bed.
Time to brush up on my cuneiform…