Let's face it, the internet is good for just about one thing, and one thing only: information. Sure, sometimes that information is porn, sometimes it's a movie that nobody should pay to see in the first place, sometimes it's a column written by someone on a subject that interests you. Sometimes--- it's a gay Goth vampire crossed with a futuristic L.A. raver nee transexual prostitute who writes in alternating cases on a webpage you can't read with commet-cursor installed.

Everyone cool with that? No? Okay, maybe we're on the same page here; but what to do about it? Regulation is a tricky thing, on the one hand big corporations (also known as "the man"), shouldn't be trusted to regulate themselves, and on the other hand, the government shouldn't regulate things unnecissarily, because information wants to be downloaded, people want to yank it to obscene pornography, nobody wants to pay for the Britney Spears Toxic ep, the Firefox browser is for vegans and fags, I don't want to pay a lot for this muffler--- those sorts of things.

At this juncture however, I think we need to call in Big Brother to personally escort the internet (and it's undesirables) off to a private rat-chair holding cell at Airstrip One. Let's hook up some electrodes to the internet's nether regions in the goal of re-programming, at least so it can act passably normal and one day rejoin society.

But why the internet? That thing saved me from paying 1,800 yen to see Mr. & Mrs Smith, and possibly even gouging my eyes out with a soda straw in the process--- it can't be all that bad as you say. You see, life without the internet allows certain people to be weird and isolated all by themselves, hell, being by yourself is a hallmark of isolation! No chat rooms, no message boards, no livejournal, nothing but that hated diary who would self-immolate if it could rather than hear another paeon against how outcast you feel.

But that was then in the primordial days of social interaction, forced or not. These days people are getting online and getting isolated together, encouraging each other to rebel against: the norms, the churchies, the market place, normal haircuts, good taste in music. Nowadays, if there is a weird fetish out their involving zombies, vampires, cuting, no-hit wonder music, there are a pack of over-zealous twenty three year olds with a web-ring to celebrate it. Look, I'm no square, I'm not asking for Pleasantville, for Christ's sake, just the occasional bit of pause for thought, think: Is it really such a good idea for you to vomit that horrid excuse for a personality of yours all over the place.

I don't want to shoot my glock off all Archie Bunker up in your grill, but the biggest offenders of this sort of crap are insane-women. You know the drill: blue hair, circa 1994 rave goggles, a faux wapanese fixation on "Japanese Culture", fuck--- these people even make those weirdos look absolutely normal. The lynchpin is the nuveau Goth idea to take Goth, a horribly affected subcultre to begin with, and turn up the gay level so high you need Rip Taylor to stand next to them just to gague how unbelievable over the top they took it.

Sure, the men do this stuff too, not to the same extrmemes, and most of them started off simply with an unhealthy appreciation for Siouxie & the Banshees, or Tori Amos, crying into their pillows at night. Once they realised that they might be able to stick it in the vagina of these dad-hating girls they became the ever-present gay-biker Dave Navaro 18th level SCA Warlocks en masse at the shitty neuvo-80s-industrial nights playing music five billion epochs past it's shelf date.

The really odd thing is that half of these futuristic-tranny-biker prostitutes are self-described "nerds". I'm no nerd defender but these girls don't know any nerds, their idea of a nerd is a guy high enough not to balk at playing 3 hours of Silent hill, and horny enough not to question their tastes in hentai anime... Hey, I know, middle school and the ninth grade can suck, it's when it all comes together and you realize that rolling up that 8th level Magic User in the library just MAY NOT have been the best use of your last half hour. Hell, it can suck all the way out of highschool and right into life. Here's what you do: wear shitty clothes, invent something electronic, get a bad haircut, maybe get rich, mary someone who loves you for your money--- do you think that Bill Gates mopes around on his livejournal and listens to His Name is Alive all day? No he doesn't larry. Whatever you do, just don't call yourself MistressKittyPussy and write about it on your webpage concerning the details of your life long goal of trying to make Klaus Nomi look absolutely normal.

Hentai tentacle rape porn is your raison d'etre?? Orly? Maybe you just wanted to be that fucked up Asian kid who collects doll figurines and chops up little girls into suet? You did? Mission A-Fucking-Complished, ^_^ "Otaku-chan". Now thanks to you, some guy who likes numbers and might have gone on to invent some life-saving gadget is going to get confused, stop inventing things and think that he has a chance to get a piece from MissySexPussy69 of www.hotvampires.com.

Oh fuck.