Clap On . . . Clap Off
Okay, here's one for ya . . .
It's getting on toward that darkened, slow-burning part of the night that has at times been called "The Witching Hour". I know because I can just make out what sounds like Norman Bates enduring yet another scolding from his some-what-less-than-sympathetic mother amidst the blood-curdling howls of what can only be the resident pack of wild wolfmen, vampires and whatever other B-Movie, nocturnal, fang-having creatures the guys down in the prop department could come up with.
After making peace with the shadows I once again find myself sitting alone in our less-than-plush upstairs loft area, wandering around aimlessly in a place where nothing should ever be done without at least a modicum of aim . . . you know what I'm talkin' about . . . that's right . . .
The Internet.
I believe, if I'm not mistaken, that Websters defines "The Internet" as a seamlessly integrated and thoroughly high-tech network of juvenile delinquents, political whackos and smelly, sweat-stained porno dealers all bent upon cramming as much spam-ridden crapola down your email inbox as the newest available loophole will legally allow.
I'm pretty sure that's what my lil' pocket dictionary said the last time I checked.
Now, far be it from me to bad mouth any of Al Gore's inventions. I actually still use my "Clapper" every time I feel the need for a little mood lighting coming on.
What is that? He didn't invent "The Clapper"? Are you sure?
No matter - The Internet is alive and well and the only thing I enjoy more than an airport security pat-down is the freedom I enjoy as a citizen of this planet to venture forth and casually peruse any darn website I choose (At any hour and in any combination of hawaiian shirt and pajama pants I see fit to do so . . . I might add.)
As long as we all watch where we step, I think it might actually be okay to get back out there and begin surfing again. I know there might be a little fear and trepidation, but if we don't then they have already won. (To be perfectly honest, I don't even know who they are . . . but I sure don't want to see them win. Do you?)
That's what I thought.
Ben O.
(BTW - Don't forget to click the Audiozue button if ya haven't already. Thanks!)
It's getting on toward that darkened, slow-burning part of the night that has at times been called "The Witching Hour". I know because I can just make out what sounds like Norman Bates enduring yet another scolding from his some-what-less-than-sympathetic mother amidst the blood-curdling howls of what can only be the resident pack of wild wolfmen, vampires and whatever other B-Movie, nocturnal, fang-having creatures the guys down in the prop department could come up with.
After making peace with the shadows I once again find myself sitting alone in our less-than-plush upstairs loft area, wandering around aimlessly in a place where nothing should ever be done without at least a modicum of aim . . . you know what I'm talkin' about . . . that's right . . .
The Internet.
I believe, if I'm not mistaken, that Websters defines "The Internet" as a seamlessly integrated and thoroughly high-tech network of juvenile delinquents, political whackos and smelly, sweat-stained porno dealers all bent upon cramming as much spam-ridden crapola down your email inbox as the newest available loophole will legally allow.
I'm pretty sure that's what my lil' pocket dictionary said the last time I checked.
Now, far be it from me to bad mouth any of Al Gore's inventions. I actually still use my "Clapper" every time I feel the need for a little mood lighting coming on.
What is that? He didn't invent "The Clapper"? Are you sure?
No matter - The Internet is alive and well and the only thing I enjoy more than an airport security pat-down is the freedom I enjoy as a citizen of this planet to venture forth and casually peruse any darn website I choose (At any hour and in any combination of hawaiian shirt and pajama pants I see fit to do so . . . I might add.)
As long as we all watch where we step, I think it might actually be okay to get back out there and begin surfing again. I know there might be a little fear and trepidation, but if we don't then they have already won. (To be perfectly honest, I don't even know who they are . . . but I sure don't want to see them win. Do you?)
That's what I thought.
Ben O.
(BTW - Don't forget to click the Audiozue button if ya haven't already. Thanks!)
posted by Ben O. | 11:01 PM
4 Comments:
Oh, I didn't know we weren't supposed to just click random links but I'm glad to hear you think we're safe again. 'They' can go take a long walk off a short pier...
My favorite pastime in the wee hours of the night, is being in front of the soft glow of my PowerBook.
Of course, I have other "wee hours of the night pastimes" but...well...yeah.
Nevermind.
It's funny but I spend very little time on my computer at home. I have taken to leaving the computer on all the time because otherwise I'd never get on it, but I'd rather watch a movie and knit or read a book than get on-line.
Terri - They are out there listening right now. Be careful not to upset Them.
:)
Sadie - Aren't the Wee Small Hours great? My favorite part of the day (or night as it were)
Kathleen - Yep, I always want to read more, but sometimes it is harder than just sitting and surfing.
Ben O.
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