Bloggerstock: The internet ate my...

Alright folks, the time is here, Bloggerstock--Round 1!
With great pleasure I introduce to you Alex, from IceWolf's Ramblings. Alex is a graduate from Ithaca with a B.F.A. in Theater Production Arts: Technology. Currently he works as a master electrician for Pioneer Theater. His hobbies include photography, enjoying the outdoors, hiking, biking, skiing and camping, but don't get your hopes up ladies, he's taken! If you enjoy photo, theatre, and life in general I strongly advise you to check out Alex's blog.

I also have written a post with the same title, I am privileged to have my post on display at Ella Unread's captivating blog (highly recommended), From the STUPIDEST corner of my mind, check it out!

And now I present to you, "The internet ate my..." by Alex Wiesman.



Well, here it is folks, the first topic from the Bloggerstock "round robin." I didn't really know where to go with this topic, it seems like a topic that has a lot of points of attack. I could go with a completely fictional story, which could be kinda fun, or I could go with my traditional blogging style of musing about and meandering around the topic just to see where it goes. Odds are the latter is where I will end up.

Life is short and yet here I am sitting in front of the computer. I spend a lot of time sitting in front of the computer and most of that time is spent surfing the internet. We have access to basically the entire world at our finger-tips, some might say that you don't really ever have to leave your home to experience much of the world.

It is an interesting topic that I seem to drift back to every now and then. As a blogger the internet does eat up a lot of my time. Then there are the other internet commitments that I have including being a forum moderator for a theatre forum and setting up the Bloggerstock web presence. It is kind of ironic that I keep interrupting my writing of this blog post with other things to do on the internet!

That only the tip of the iceberg though. While I try to do a lot of local shopping and such, sometimes it is a lot easier and often cheaper to buy things online. I buy things not only for myself but also for work from various places around the nets. Sometimes I buy things from vendors who turn up in a Google search who I really have no idea who they are. When you actually sit down and think about it, that is kind of crazy. Even ten years ago people would really have a hard time buying from vendors they knew nothing about, today we do it all the time.

Now consider how much of ourselves and our lives we put online. As bloggers, we often just lay it all out there. Then consider that almost everyone and their mother (literally) has a Facebook or MySpace page (or one of the other wannabe social networks). It is almost impossible to sneeze without the entire digital world knowing about it. It is just very interesting that we live so public lives these days and we are totally OK with it (for the most part anyway).

So, what has the internet eaten? Well, for starters, I think that it is slowly eating away at inter-personal relationships. So many people find it so much easier to "make friends" online rather than in person. It really amazes me that people turn to online services like eHarmony to find their "soulmate." Heaven forbid you actually talk to someone in person. Why do people think that finding a person to spend their lives with with easier and/or better online?

Why do people find it easier to communicate in such an impersonal setting? Shouldn't we still teach and learn how to interact on a personal level? This is why I think that it is important to actually get out and do things with other people. Sitting at home on you game console playing against your friend across the street is kinda silly. Why play Wii sports instead of getting your friends together to go bowling or play baseball? Why do people play "games" like Second Life?

The internet is a great thing, a powerful tool, and useful. I think that we just need to remember that it isn't real life. The internet is eating society and I think that we should be a little concerned. Get out, enjoy the world every now and then!

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Enjoying bloggerstock? You can head over to IceWolf's Ramblings to read another take on this topic. Who knows you may also like some of my other posts!

The dance of the ninja squid

It’s not easy growing up in the depths of the northeast Pacific. You’ve got to be able to defend yourself; it’s not like those parts south of here with their ritzy coral houses and friendly neighborhood ocean patrol. No, here in the N-E-P you vouch for yourself, you watch your back because you don’t know who or what is just around the algae patch.

As a squid it’s even worse. The underground drug deals run rampant and the hottest drug on the market, Black Ice, is made by refining squid ink. That makes us a target. The gangbangers run the drift searching for squid like me, harvesting their ink by squeezing the life right out of them.

I didn’t want to live in fear, so I did something about it; I found Murwey, rather, he found me.

You see, I have this job, it may not be the easiest or safest way to make pearl but it pays the bills and provides shrimp for my little ones, or as I call them, my squeegees. Little did I know it would cost me more than it’s worth, my mate.

I work for a delivery service that runs goods and supplies into the local slums, real rough areas littered with gangbangers. I encountered some not-so-friendly folk, a group of barracudas looking to jack my supplies and sell them on the black market for profit.

I was surrounded, they were closing in. I had no option, I laid down the supplies and offered it to them, but that wasn’t all they wanted. They wanted me, my ink. I looked to bolt and tried to jet but a shot of pain was sent up a tentacle. Blood diffused through the water as my appendage was cut short and part held firmly in the mouth of an adversary, this was it, there was no escape.

A swarm of tentacles filled the surrounding area and suddenly I float alone in the vast expanse. A cloaked figure, eight arms strong approached me, passed to me a flattened, hardened piece of algae with etchings stating a location, and left as quick as it appeared.

I finished my delivery; they needed the goods, regardless of how I felt. I’d have my limb back in a month, no worse for the wear.

I returned home, made up a story, and my mate patched me up so we could be ready to go out to dinner for the annual delivery awards. I was being featured as “Most reliable”, third year running.

It was a special night. I left the little ones with my sister and called upon a transport dolphin to deliver us to the banquet. The banquet was housed inside a large wooden structure; we don’t know what it is, a gift from above I suppose.

As we rode I gazed deeply at my companion. She was perfect, everything I dreamed for in a mate: Glistening, deep eyes, dark amber flesh, elegant tentacles, and fertile to boot; we were expecting...my 3rd patch of squeegees.

Our dolphin screamed to a halt, a blue streak darted in front of him. He bucked hard, tossing us from his dorsum. They were back; you don’t cross the barracudas without retaliation.

1, 2, 3...how many? I couldn’t tell, they’re all too quick. Then... ...and... ....A shrill was sent up my spine, and she was gone.

My cold blood boiled, my anger built, my hatred summated...then it stopped. I filled with grief. I broke; I couldn’t be put back together. They took my all, my everything and I was left there alone, helpless.

I trudged home, every boost through the water left me drained. I felt heavy, heavy as I’ve ever felt. I found my sister, told her it wasn’t safe for the kids to be with me and left her with them, I had no choice. I didn’t have the heart to tell them, I couldn’t.

I made my way to the location left to me on the algae; I had nowhere else to go. He was there, cloaked in black and approached, “I suppose you fear for your life.”

“No, I fear for those who broke my spirit, for they know not the wrath they’ve brought upon themselves.”

I disappeared for 50 high tides and emerged a different squid. Beaten and battered, I’d endured more pain than I thought imaginable, but I lived and that did not bode well for my adversaries.

I knew where to go, the place off limits to the likes of me, the abyss beyond safety, a larvae’s worst nightmare, the Deep Void; the barracudas perilous haven.

I arrived several tides later; I had snuck beneath their cover. I wasn’t interested in petty criminals, I sought the source, and I knew where to find it. I wove through their defenses with ease, all the way to their holding pens, my point of interest. Behind a stone I float, counting the guards; less than I expected, 5 in total.

I meandered to the middle of the outcropping, surrounded individual pens, each holding a brethren. I wanted the guards to see me. I wanted them to come to me; in fact, I needed them to.

I caught their attention and they slowly swam toward, chuckling in delight, for what was one lowly squid going to do? They mocked me, bad decision.

“What’re you thinking coming out here? You know there’s nothing but pain for you. Your days end here hero.”

I scanned the cells, desperately searching for my mate, knowing that they would keep her alive with cheap krill until she had no ink left to give, and they did, I spotted her.

I closed my eyes, listened to the ocean, and felt every vibration through the water, “Come.”

They dashed forward with lightning speed; but their clumsy, I heard their every movement and felt their presence. Swish, swoosh, drop, dash...an aqueous symphony providing a visual map of where they are and where they’ll be. I burst aside, last second, leaving them befuddled.

“Again,” I spoke. Whoosh, whip, swash...I readied myself as they neared.

With a swirl I duck beneath their vice-like snaps and arise with a flurry of blows, catching each squarely on their skull, crushing their brains beneath shards of razor sharp bone.

5 drop, and reinforcements arrive...“Begin.”

Splash, swoosh, swash...a choir of coordinates gave me the advantage as a vortex of tentacles swarm the scrambling creatures and each strikes true.

I open my eyes for an instant, to catch a glimpse of her cell and our glances connect....

....the music still plays and the dance continues.

Spring and Summer Nights

Swimsuits, sunny days, short skirts, song birds, nature trails, extended hours, and better oranges.

These are a few of my favorite things about spring/summer but now that I spend a whole lot of time in the library as opposed to outdoors experiencing the warmth I've grown a new appreciation for the spring and summer nights. The sights and sounds are soothing, which is especially nice after spending hours in the library thinking, "books and notes are so lame I'd like to chop them into millions of pieces and make millions of tiny paper fighter jets that would shoot each other down leaving only one plane as the victor. To celebrate the victory the lone plane will be shrouded in flames, the smoke inhaled. The contents of the gases will be absorbed into my blood which will eventually make its way to my brain, pass the blood brain barrier, and be exchanged for metabolic waste. This way the knowledge contained within the letters on the piece of paper which was made into the victorious fighter jet will be absorbed into my brain for recall later. Obviously this will be the most important tidbit of info from my notes, otherwise the plane wouldn't have won, it just makes sense."

I oft make multiple laps around campus on my way back from the library at night to experience serenity and clear my head which apparently is a healthy decision.