Only Connect

What a world we live in, where only now do I feel at one with the planet, truly connected, spiritually and technologically, for I write this now not in a PC-Bang, but the comfort of my own air-conditioned room. No one should feel this much joy and completion when they see those multicoloured letter of Google. These are surely the emotions reserved for such lofty situations of having met your soulmate, the person you are gladly going to spend the rest of your life with. Well I claim that this too is a situation of lofty bearings. The internet is someone you are going to spend the rest of your life with, yes you heard me, I'm personifying the internet. It's a relationship that requires mutual respect and understanding. I accept the power she has in providing me with knowledge and entertainment and she too accepts the complete domination I have in looking up whatever I want, following my every whim, however sick or wholesome it may be. Mostly sick.... mostly.

Its a kind of one-way relationship, but sometimes the most effective and long-standing relationships possess this uneven dynamic. I once learnt from South Park that you should "treat the internet with the respect it deserves" (Randy 12:6). And, yes, although he speaks words of truth, the internet can also be something to be abused and taken advantage of. I suppose this is where my analogous human relationship commentary comes to an abrupt end, for I in no way condone abusive relationships. The internet is so hard to treat with respect when you have it. You flirt with so many pages at once, racing through them with libertine-like abandon, a funny you-tube clip, streaming a new Family Guy, checking the ratings of your favourite album (the white one), downloading a film, emailing friends, sorting out your finances with on-line banking. There's so fucking much that we cannot possibly have time to fully appreciate it all! It just is. We have blinkers on that makes this wonder of technology seem normal, even mundane.

But when it leaves us, oh, how we crumble! We look forward to work, so you can check your emails or see if your favourite album rating has changed. We look upon the people walking and sitting with portable computer machines (laptops) with envy and longing. We even start thinking about heading west to California where there must be internet in that golden land. Or I do anyway. The lamentations are all consuming as you reminisce about the fun you had together. That time when you went to the cinema and shared a fondle in the darkness. That lazy sunshining Sunday afternoon, sitting in the park, frolicing in the grass. Caressing the screen and kissing the keypad, knowing that through these gestures of affection, you are only tickling the ego of the laptop, not the internet, but you do it anyway. For the internet is not a thing we can make love to, however much we want to. It's intangible, untouchable, an idea in the ether, and all fantasies of physical intimacy lies in the imagination only.

But now it's with me again! It's returned and more shall we share precious moments of sweet nothings that I shan't go into now, but lets just say I'm making a list now of all the albums I'm going to listen to, films to watch, and new television series to get into. It's gonna be sweeeeeet! And I have the godsend internet installer to thank for. I think they hold the same level of respect and gratitude, in the world, as doctors do. They bring life into the world, remedy faulty connections, and generally make happy the lives of others by maintaining their beloved lines. I was so glad, shaking the guys hand constantly and incessantly plying him with loads of orange juice, that he probably thought it was an important English custom. "Always offer internet installers orange juice", goddamn it, they need the strength, bearing joy to the world and all. Forgive the excess, I'm still reeling from those letters - G, O, O, G, L, E.