I found out today what exactly it is that we technical drones slave away our lives for, in our quest to provide bigger, better, faster networks. What the most popular section of our users' webspace is. Teenage girls and their webcams. Very, very cute girls on technically paleolithic webcams.
Apparently they make quite a handsome return in return for pontificating about their day to day lives, taking a few snaps of themselves dressed up to go out, and occasionally showing some flesh. Loyal followers clearly crowd their sites, and from the stories run about them by the press, are entirely happy to buy them presents, for which the girls in question have provided helpful assistance in the form of Amazon gift wishlists linked from their front pages, and copious information on their likes and dislikes.
The last person to sign the guestbook on my webcam was my mother. And people wonder why I have gender issues.
Where were the legions of sordid, lecherous, depraved and amoral (yet disturbingly attractive, in a sinister sort of way) voyeurs when my pre-teen innocence was up for sale?
What is my equivalent of the short skirt, tall boots and heavy makeup that can dehumanize any girl and magically transform her into a distractingly head-turning mobile work of degenerate art?
Why do I not have the option of a shallow, meaningless, flighty existence with nothing more on my mind than outdoing my equally brainless friends in nightly contests of dangerously carefree people and times?
Whence from comes this damned desire for knowledge, aptitude, independence and respect, why could I not be content instead with shallow admiration, frivolous abuse, meaningless promises, destructive relationships, deceptive profundity, desperate credulity, and soul-destroying dependence?