"Before I sink...into the...big sleep...I want to hear...I want to hear...The scream...of the...Butterfly" - Jim Morrison ('When the Music's Over')


The Web is reality, just as the "outside world" is reality. Two dimensions! It doesn't make your head explode.
I've always been of the opinion that people are at their most real when online.

It's in that other, Outside Reality, where we're less real. Our defences are up, we wear a mask, we keep our behaviour to socially-inconspicuous rules. We have to be less real as a survival instinct. We aren't "clones", as the moronic emo kids love proclaim.. We're animals. Decorum is our primary shield against each other. Smile, nod hello, avoid aggressive eye-contact, pretend to be riveted to the number display in elevators to avoid awkward interactions, say "Please" when ordering food (it's not like they won't serve you if you don't say please), act stiffly around cops, say "Have a nice day!", or say nothing, keep quiet around strangers, wear concealing clothing (ladies), triple-check your make-up is perfect (ladies, some men) to hide your real face, act nice when you don't mean it, act overly 'cool' when you're really not (men, some women)...
We rarely show strangers our real selves. It would leave us naked and vulnerable.
Fuck the "real world". It's an antiquated concept old-timers/technophobes cling to.
Many Real-Worldians find ways to relieve the strain of faking their way through each day: Friday night/Saturday night, nightclubs. Get trashed on booze and a puff or two of Biggy, and make a total fucking drunk motherfucker of themselves and cause trouble wherever they wander. Start fights, perform projectile vomiting on the sidewalk, sing badly and loudly in public and verbally abuse everyone they encounter. God, if you've ever ventured into any red light district on a Friday or Saturday night, while sober, you'll know how scary it is.

Conversely, when online we have no need for defences. Unless you're stupid enough to reveal compromising personal security-info, like what suburb you live in, where you go to school/work, when and how, and pretty much every movement you make...You're virtually anonymous.
Take IRC, for example (or, "The Intellectual Void" as I like to refer to it as (actually, I just thought of that )): chatters unleash every possible angle of their true personalities because they have the powerful mask of anonymity. It was Oscar Wilde who said, "Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth."
Fact: if you're an obnoxious prick online, that's who you really are. And that goes for any other personality trait.
I, myself, am unfortunately/fortunately the true me...But I'm a special case psychologically (which is one of the few things I keep private). I use the Tabby/Joker/Mad Hatter as personifications of my uninhibited side. When I'm Tabby, there are no boundries. And it also protects me from the many enemies I've accumulated over the years.
I'm not here to "hook up", or show the world the intimate details of my natural locale, or show my dick/vagina/miscellaneous to the world. I'm here to express myself, artistically and intellectually and comedically, and sometime in the future to promote the novel I'm still working on.
I hid my age, gender (though it's obvious I'm an androgynous alien feline), location, hometown, and stuff like that. (But I mostly just adore my profile pic. I found it by accident one sleepless night, browsing for "ringmaster kittens" for some reason, and it had no information with it, no explanations, merely the enigmatic title of "ringmaster". To this day, I still don't know where it originated, who had made it, or what it means. And I cannot find it again. I challenge anyone to find this image. It vanished just as mysteriously as it appeared. The image symbolizes Mindfucking for me. It still mystifies me lol.)

But I digress. Because I can.

I've been developing spooky theories as a result of the sludge trail of fakers and spambots that infest this World Wide Spider Web.
For instance, what if there are no more than a few thousand real people online (if that), and the rest of the Web is infested with spambots... Millions of them!
Recall the anti-survey campaign I hosted a while ago, in which I had proven that those seemingly innocent bulletin surveys and seemingly pointless quizzes were in fact ingenious products of Internet Criminals teasing your passwords out of you subtly: out of the millions and millions of users online during my exhaustive investigation, I found only two other people who shared my suspicions, and with valid proof. One was a strangely intelligent biker, and the other was Pandora Security. Plus myself, makes three...Three! How many users are there online?

Furthermore, if the millions of spambots vastly outnumber the real people, who's to say it isn't the same in the so-called "Real World" outside the Web? In public—all those generic people we observe seemingly living out their generic and inconspicuous day-to-day lives: what if most of them are spambots??
Think about it, everywhere you go in public someone or something is constantly trying to get you to make financial transactions (shops, fake charities, beggars, promotional workers, faces on billboards trying to brainwash/seduce you to hand over your money, endless scams, endless advertisements...We're suffocated 24 /7 with advertisements. SUFFOCATED!
The woman sitting across from you on a park bench: a spambot...Shake hands and download spyware from her. (Although, viruses do less expensive damage in the biological world. But that's beside the point.)
Wash your hands regularly, especially after handling cash. Think about how many hands have handled those bank notes and those coins. (Ha, "hands have handled". Told ya I was poet )

*deep breath, deep breath* lol The ironic reality of thinking too much ends up driving you into a state of paranoia. I like it, though. Don't you?

God, I loathe this mortal realm, with its pointless circumvolutions, its obssessive vanities, its sex, sex, sex, and its constant fear of death.
I wouldn't change it. Life's too short to worry about "the world" (I'm sick of those two words juxtaposed).
As James Dean once said (and it's one of my life's mottoes), "Dream as though you'll live forever; Live as though you'll die tomorrow."

On another part of the page, if this reality is a "Web" in which we're all interconnected in the glutinous, intricate, and complex strands, it begs the Big Question: Where is the Spider?
The Spider builds the Web to snare its prey. Every web has its Spider in waiting. Otherwise, it would be a cobweb. This Internet is clearly no cobweb...
Virtual food for virtual thought, no? Or, fodder for delicious paranoid fantasies? (Either way, someone gets devoured


Part Two of My Magical Blog Post of [Today]


I got bitten by what I assume was an unidentified spider just as I was trying to go to sleep (about 36 hours ago). All I felt was this sudden sting/itch, the pain of which is indescribable, and it was SO FUCKING ITCHY, I scratched at it with my other foot's big toe like crazy...
As a result, I dug almost of all the layers of skin off, and half my foot is bloody and infected. I'm on antibiotics as of today, along with an antibiotic cream.
Whatever bit me wasn't venomous (obviously, since I'm still up and about and feel fine), but I violently injured myself from it.
I'm proud not to be one of those "men" who ignore their wounds and refuse to see a doctor. As soon as I saw my foot I was on my way lol. My GP said if I hadn't got it seen to, I'd be in hospital and on a drip within a week. Anyone could tell at a glance the wound was serious. For some reason, I wasn't worried at all. Serious infection: see doctor: let doctor take care of it. No point in me stressing over something I'm not qualified to attend to. Simple.

My main priority now is to locate the alleged spider (nothing else could bite as excruciatingly as I had felt it). I think it was in my bed...I've a theory it may well have been a Huntsman spider, since we get a lot of those around here accidently wandering indoors. Dumb things. Come into my home uninvited and attack me, will they? Ah, well. In this country, something like that could've been A LOT worse. (Funnel Webs, and the like.) However, I'm not in any hurry to hit the proverbial hay tonight...Funny, that


I live every day as if it were my last. I awaken, pop pills, read/study, watch a little TV, listen to music, go online, get blind drunk (usually while online), notice all the typos I had made in my writings, and then pass out.
Sure, some people would live their hypothetical last day doing reckless things, like skydiving, bungee jumping, flirting with death in some thrill-seeking way.
But I live every day as if it were my last. I'm not trying to make it my last!

I meet some frightening people online (myselves excluded ), and the majority of these scary people are on either side of religion: Religionists and anti-religionists...You're both as bad as each other.
Spreading your bloodthirsty propaganda, mounting hostility upon hostility, only proliferating hatred in a world torn apart by such hatred.

I'm neither for nor against religion: you do whatever the fuck you want and worship whatever the fuck you want. So long as you don't start your own little holy wars. Or your anti-holy wars. Put down your guns!

Fundamentalists make me extremely uneasy, on either side.

And that goes for all the ideologies out there.

You all really frighten me. I'm looking at you, opposingdigits.com, and all the Christian and Muslim fundamentalists.

And to think, a whole lot of people are intimidated by a lil ol nutjob like me, when there are ticking time-bombs all around us, just waiting to detonate. And these people are among the ones society labels as "normal".



~St. Tabby