"Cyber-bullets cause no pain"--www.heat.net

They say that this next wave of technology stands to estrange man more in the next ten years than in the previous century and a half of industrialization. In California, the phenomenon of shyness has become a subject of serious study amongst psychologists and pathologists. Experts, in part, blame this new inability to socially interact with the over indulgence of the media. Too many hours in front of the television makes Johnny, not only stupid, but also boring and incapable of meeting new people or adjusting to uncommon or unfamiliar social situations. The internet at least allows for interaction, they say. Of course, most of this interaction occurs through computer interface but at least people are communicating with other people ... or so the argument goes.

I'm not sure how online interaction has changed me, if it has at all. I never did particularly give a fuck about meeting new people. Indeed, I have proclaimed my own misanthropy for years.

"Man, as he is, with his laughter, his passions, his secretions, is nothing more than a dirty little irrational virus troubling the universe of transparency" says Jean Baudrillard and I'm inclined to agree.

Indeed, I am, perhaps, more alienated than some, though by no means am I more alienated than most. Yet, most of my free time is spent plugged into the web (I'm waiting for Microsoft to develop a cybernetic implant interface: get a modem hook up right into my fucking throat and plug me right the fuck in). Online, I am known as DSTROYR and if you've ever played Blood, Blood 2: The Chosen, Delta Force, Half-Life, Quake, Quake 2, Rainbow Six, Shogo, Sin, Unreal or Vigilance online, then I've probably kicked your virtual ass. I used to host games a while back when my shitty Pentium 200 was state of the art. Me and Kiko, this psychotic (though boring, which is rare in psychosis), Japanese broad who used to oil my gears, would sit down and set all our preferences and options in Japanese and wait for green newbies to take the bait. Of course, unless they spoke Japanese, they couldn't understand the option screens and I'd set my avatar up with cheat-coded invisibility and infinite ammo. From then on, I'd stalk until I found somebody. Often, I'd follow them and watch as they went through the movements (and sometimes you'd get guys who were pretty innovative too) but it would always end the same. Kiko and I would smoke dope, drink sake, eat mochi and laugh as I walked up behind an unsuspecting avatar, placed a shotgun to the back of his head and spilled his cyber brains all over the floor. Eventually, Kiko left me. I wasn't the same for a while after that ... no Japanese cheat codes, no mochi, no hot (if vapid), Asian broad to fuck me after my morale boosting victories over my enemies. Nowadays, I make due with more conventional tactics. There's nothing like signing up on a team game of Delta Force or Rainbow Six, killing all your teammates before they understand what's going on and then moving to a nice vantage point with a 50 caliber sniper rifle and killing off the remaining opposition. Of course, you can only do that so many times before people start getting the point and refusing to play games with you but I don't really play these games for fun, or for the camaraderie. I play these games to take out all of my most dysfunctional impulses on a bunch of fucking strangers who ought to be spending their time doing more creative shit anyway. The best victims are the kids: they get really bent out of shape and beating their asses makes me feel like a big man, to be sure. People can criticize if they like, but there's one thing in this world that's certain: cyber-bullets may cause (emotional) pain but only to those who obviously deserve it. I cackle with glee in the face of those that I have virtually wronged.

"Dude, you suck!" cries a voice from the net-world.

"Better that I fuck you over here than actually cap your punk-ass in the post office. Now stop bitching or I will be forced to taunt you a second time," I reply.

"Hey man, you cheated," cries another voice from the information super-highway.

"He who dares wins, dooky-chaser," I respond.

Alienation-shmalienation, people suck and that's a fact. Everyday I wake up and look out my window, down upon the streets of New York and I dream of the day when that "real rain will come" and it never happens. I fantasize of acquiring my own nuclear device and showing the world what a REAL man of will is capable of. I read about children whacking their classmates in Arkansas, Oregon and Mississippi and I know why they did it. I think about a little mayhem at McDonalds every time I see those golden arches ... but then I look over at Val, the Finnish girl who's presently oiling my gears, who sucks but sucks well and I thank God I developed SOME social skills when I was young, before there was a web. Credits:


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