Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Dear General Public: I'm done with you.


It was 1992. I'd just bought my first Mac - a Quadra 660AV and I was loving life. For a 15 inch monitor, a computer with 24 megs of ram (that's right baby, you know you're jealous, and you don't need to tell me I'm showing my age here, thank you very much) and a 120 meg (yes.. MEGS) hard drive, I think I paid around $3,200. I think my hands were trembling as I wrote the check.

But that machine was the bomb. I brought it and Peter Gabriel's Secret World interactive cd home with me and hibernated in my room for a few weeks.

Then I discovered the internet through AOL.

A lot has changed on the internet since I first heard the static handshake of a 2400 baud modem connecting to the outside world.

But then again...

See, each time I think the general public has hit a new low... an entirely new threshold on just how far they can sink, they surprise me yet again.

I won't even go into the foulness of two girls, one cup. If you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't seen it, avoid it and save the Big Mac and fries you had for lunch.

Recently I became aware of a new phenomenon site involving naked girls, cakes and farting. I... won't even get into this one either suffice to say that once again, an entirely new level of ridiculousness has arrived to grace the electronic world and I wasn't exactly waiting anxiously on what the net would dish up next.

At least I hadn't been until today. And once again...

I'd like to talk to you about a site that breaches all former bugfuck, crazier-than-a-shithouse-rat protocol, but first, a slight digression.

I've never been hesitant to talk about my platform regarding religion. I think if you want to believe in God, the Tooth Fairy or little green forest fairies, whatever gets you through the night, good for you. Just don't shove your beliefs on me, and we'll get along just fine and share the bottle of tequila without issue.

I, however, have always been inquisitive by nature, since I was a kid. I question too often, do not generally take things on blind faith, nor put much stock in 2,000 year old books with missing pages unless I see some sort of proof.

I am a doubting Thomas.

So I pose a question: Are you familiar with The Rapture?

No, I'm not talking about the naked girl and cake site... I'm talking about the belief that God will eventually come back and scoop up those that truly believe in Him, take them to heaven and then unleash some serious nastiness on Earth.

With me so far?

All right, then let's proceed.

There is now a site (and no, I'm not even hyperlinking this one... you want to visit it, go type it yourself) whereby people who believe they'll be hoisted in the hands of an Angel and Super-Dooper-Looped to Heaven after the Rapture takes place, can send an email to whoever they choose, six days after the Rapture, for the recurring annual fee of $40.

That, of course, is also taking into consideration that the Net will still be operating after the plague of pestilence, locusts, famine and war have arrived, post-Rapture.

The beauty of it all, is that how would they know if the email is even sent?

As an aside, the site's owner has an email going to his wife. Mmhmmm... you read right. His wife. Evidently, he thinks that while he's going to be on the stairway to Heaven, his wife will be playing dominos with the rest of us heathens, as she has no relationship with God.

And what, you may ask, will his email say? The password to his stock account so she can trade.

Yes, I know. I needed bread crumbs to get back to the land of logic after I read it too. After he's been called away, he's sending her a message from the afterlife so she can TRADE STOCKS. Tell ya what sport.. how about you just write the password down on one of those fancy yellow Post-It notes and save the communing with the dead stuff to somebody else.

Ludicrous you say? Ridiculous? His cheese has slid off his cracker?

Oh, but wait, there's more.

At this point, over 1,000 people have signed up for it and paid their annual $40.

You read right, my little holy wafer eating friends. ONE THOUSAND.

That's 40,000 American greenbacks for this service. AND IT JUST BEGAN.

Their mission statement: Our purpose is to get one last message to the lost, at a time, when they might just be willing to hear it for the first and last time.

I have written just shy of 20k words on a novel this past week but tonight I think I'm foregoing fiction and working on a business plan involving cakes, nude women and religion. Apparently PT Barnum was right, there really IS a sucker born every minute.

And apparently, they're among the chosen.

Bob why-does-this-Kool-Aid-taste-funny Ford


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