CAN I ASK YOU SOMETHING?

whatever happened to predictability? the milk man? the paperboy? evening tv? i know what. it's the internet. the internet ruined everything. the internet made the crazy sane. it also categorized every single magical moment on Earth into a link to click. the random became the known, and the predictable became the forced other. the milk man realized that milk delivery was obsolete so he went into television and invented that cartoon chocolate bunny you see on every commercial. the paperboy realized that there will never be anything good on tv so he strapped himself permanently onto the internet mainframe, wires in his fingertips, and he stays there forever living in a virtual-reality video game called Paperboy. evening tv? no more, doesn't exist, no more appointment television, no more gathering the family around the living-room set at 6PM for news and The Simpsons after. every show you could ever want is on Hulu in the palm of your hand on a tiny miniature device, whichever show and whenever you deem it time. your family is gone, they have no more time for your problems, they're too busy watching their own shows. the only dad you have left is Homer Simpson. why do i cry every time the Full House intro opening comes on? i mean, i never watched that show as a kid. it must be a trigger, it's a nostalgia arrow, it takes me back to when i was a child and life was happy and easier, when i didn't have to worry that the sun would decide to be random one morning and not rise, i wouldn't fret that my milk would spoil, that i'd miss my daily newspaper comic-strip funnies, and that Dan Rather wouldn't be there each night for me, Kenneth. my father chokes my neck, but it's cartoon violence, i know he still loves me. i've got a hankering for chocolate milk. my fingers have gone dead. is this the real world or the video-game world? no, don't tell me, i don't want to know...




shoo-bit-a-ba-ba-bow





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