First taste of cyber

Ah, you're a new one around this here web. You're not calloused like the old cyberjunkies. You've just signed on for maybe the first time -- you've tried looking up your own name -- found nothing naturally -- and now you're looking for the other thing you think about all the time besides yourself -- sex. Well, let me show you a taste. The first time's always free. But you'll pay -- you'll pay alright. Maybe you won't charge the porn pass on your credit card, but you'll pay in wasted hours, hours gone down the drain like your jizz in the shower.

Let me show you miles of galleries without a single example of art. You'll keep clicking on to the next page, excited but unfulfilled, hoping to glipse the perfect specimen.

I'll teach you how to download the binary picture newsgroups, to reject the spam that's only slightly more of a waste of time than the fool's gold you pan for. Maybe I'll even show you how to photograph yourself and add your headless body to the endless lineup.

I'll teach you to use the chatrooms, whether those of AOL, IRC, or Java. You'll spend hours reading the lies of others and spinning your own. A constant level of low stimulation without release, and after the release comes self-disgust. You need longer doses of low levels of pleasure raise, you need more of a fix, and soon you're addicted. The next day you'll want to do it all again.

Ah, trust me, it would be easier, faster, and more satisfying to just jerk yourself without wasting time with technology -- this makes it no better. But you had to be curious, had to come down this alley, and u now you're hooked.

Have you no imagination? Can't you use your mind to stimulate yourself? Why do you need pictures or the words of others? The answer is that you don't, but you do.

You'll buy more -- a tiny camera to capture your image, to be your own voyeur. Open a peep show window in your home. There's no rappor.

How many hours will you waste? How many days, how many weeks? How many real people could you have talked to instead?

But I cannot honestly claim that I never touch my suppy. I have asked myself these questions, asked why I waste my life, and can only answer that life is for the wasting.

I do really teach others to use computers, and there is the dillema of whether to show the seedy uses as well as the beneficial ones. Unlike the drug pusher, I gain no financial benefit from turning others on. So the analogy ends there.

People do things that they think will make their lives better, and sometimes those same things make their lives worse.


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