And G-d quoth: "BEHOLD, there will be a ginormous deluge of crapola on the Internets–insipid celebrity updates, pornography (yeah right I’d make a link, I’m G-D), shopping (MUST STOP SHOPPING), eBay (anyone want to buy a "Go" set?), and I say unto thee, Rebecca Schuman–GO FORTH AND BUILD AN ARK OF PROTECTION AGAINST THE INSIPIDNESS OF THE INTERNETS."
And so I went forth and I constructed an ark so insipid that it made the insipidness of normal Internets seem downright pithy by comparison. BE FOREWARNED, cybermateys: ye olde cyber-ark contains no material my own father would find objectionable, and my father is a respected officer of the court. Therefore by the transitive property of objectionability I proclaim this cyber-ark DECENT. However it contains the word "fuck" a lot. A LOT. A FUCK TON of TIMES. It also contains many entries from when I have been depressed over the last five to six years, and that equals a lot. So if you would rather not read about when your teacher was depressed, go the fuck away. From my cyber-ark. Also it contains many embarassing photos of my childhood, youth, and twenties, some of which I have already shared in class but others of which will scar you for life, so proceed at your own fucking risk. (Ass. Damn. Rusty Trombone. Stop reading). Also, now would be a good time to let you know that old people are also on Facebook and you should protect your profile so that we cannot read it because it is probably insipid and embarassing. And G-d did make Rebecca create a swearing jar and place tens of imaginary cents inside it for every swear that appeared on the olde cyber-ark, and the Internets became an imaginary millionaire.
AND REBECCA DID CREATE HER CYBER-ARK, AND IT WAS GOOD. (We’ll be kings! Damn Hell Ass kings!)
*This entry is directed at the students in my Humanities Core Course section, who are currently reading Pierre Levy’s Cyberculture. So if this makes no sense to you, sorry.