Back by Popular Demand...

My lord, it has been some time. Too much time, one would say. Eight months? Hardly a wisher or a want from the Illustrious Mr. Charlton? Where has he been? Hiding? In Jail? Has he begun to push up the daisies? Did he get bored of being witty and funny?

Alright, the truth is actually far more shocking than the previous statements would leave you to believe. In this day and age, as a young man growing up in the technological revolution, what I've been doing is almost blasphemy. Some would brand me a heretic, others a Luddite. Some people might even put on their clever hats and call me both. Who knows? What I do know is this. Some people are going to think I'm absolutely crazy for living in this manner for the past little while.

I have not had an internet connection at home for six of the last eight months.

So, what else does it do besides show cat pictures and skin flicks?

Since I lost my smartphone a while back, the only connection to the world wide web is the one at work. And let's face it, I'm usually busy doing work things or writing haiku about the superiority of lunch. So there we have it. No connections, no Redditing, no Facebooking, no texting, no bestiality midget pornography, no looking up recipes, no Khan Academy. Nothing. Nada. Zippola. And you want to know something?

My life is WAY fucking better for it.

A Book? Where does it plug in?

Seriously. A lot better. Waaaaaaayyyyyyy better. I can't believe how much the quality of life improved without our generation's version of the idiot box. Oh, don't you get me wrong, it was tough at first. Not having the entire world's information at my fingertips was a struggle, I assure you. My usual foray into the kitchen almost always involved hitting the world wide web before wetting the creative wheel of my brain. I could take the ingredients of my fridge, toss them into a generator and come out with something tasty. It wasn't so much as cooking, as following Google's orders. But without the internet, what the hell was I to do? Shit, did I actually have UP MY COOKING GAME?!?! 

I had actually forgotten about these

I actually had to plan meal. I actually had to make mistakes. I couldn't Youtube 'how to make delicious food'. I had to fuck up a few times. Now, I was a decent cook before hand. But this Rad Sack of Sweet Rice and Gravy can now walk into a kitchen and make fresh pasta with nothing but flour, water, and salt. DID YOU HEAR THAT KITCHEN? I JUST SAID THAT I CAN MAKE THE GODDAMN STAFF OF LIFE WITH INGREDIENTS THAT HAVE BEEN AROUND FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS! I DIDN'T EVEN USE A GODDAMN PASTA MACHINE! I ROLLED THAT SHIT OUT WITH A BOTTLE OF WHISKEY, THEN CUT IT OUT WITH A KNIFE THAT WAS FORGED, BY HAND, IN THE MOUNTAINS OF JAPAN!!! COMPLETELY FUCKING RAW!!!

(my yelling comes from the fact that I got bored (no internet remember) and decided to try and make pasta by doing it, no recipe at all. The best pasta I made came out after I had run out of eggs)

Without the internet, I had too much free time. I didn't know what to do with myself. I would sometimes just sit, quietly, and try not to think at all (apparently they call this meditating...). Just sitting! Do you have any idea how hard it is to not think? Crazy hard! Then I found myself trying not to think on the bus. Not thinking as I was skipping on the town. You know what happens when you start looking at the world without thinking, without that stream of ego pouring through your skull? You start laughing like an asshole. I'm not making this up. I'd be sitting on the bus, then I'd burst out laughing. Couldn't tell you why. People thought I was some sort of madman.

The biggest thing about not having the internet was the lack of 'social' media feeds. The largest fish of that pond being Facebook. Facebook is such an odd creature in my world. I try, I try so hard to make heads or tails of it. I occasionally post, I try and get back to people when they message me. It's mutated though, into this bizarre beast that's bloated with advertisements, game requests, apps that you need to download to access other features. I, for the first time, downloaded an app to Facebook (I usually avoid them like the plague). An app called 'schoolFeed'. Do you know what this app allows you to do? Post pictures and converse with people I went to high school with.

If only there was a website that allowed you to do that

That's why I made last night's post. If you haven't seen, here it is again.

I don't want to sound like a smug prick, even if I am a smug prick. But Sweet Peter, I seriously can't keep up with the constant noise that's provided by my news feed. I know about what going in some people lives, whose relationship with me is six degrees of separation, than I do my own mother. And I talk to my mother once a week! My mother's life? I'm pretty well informed. But she didn't send me a goddamn picture of her breakfast this morning. 

Man, what the fuck will happen if I actually run into one of you and we go for coffee? The amount I know about you is shocking. Here's how a conversation would go.

Illustrious Mr. C: So, Shmuck! How's life treating you?

Shmuck: Good man, I met a girl fairly recently...

IMC: Yeah, Candice Bernett. You guys met at a Starbucks when you both tried ordering the same scone. After her uncle's passing, you took a trip to Spain where you both got sick from some bad Calimari. When you got back, she applied for her dream job at Ivinca Corp. where she's starting her career as a junior in the marketing department. She likes dogs, jasmine green tea and her favorite band is Radio Head. Awesome pictures of the concert by the way.

Shmuck: I... I ummm....

IMC: Oh, you don't have to say another word. I know everything. You tell me everything. What do you know about me, hmmm? That I'm a 'Bon Vivant' permanently on vacation? That I post blogs on my feed? Anything else? Shit, for all you know, I could be a goddamn spy. Notice all that information about you I just yanked out of the air? Like some sort of data miner? You think you're unique? That I'm not keeping tabs on everyone else like I do you?

You might ask yourself, Shmuck, why I'd do this. Why I'd compile this seemingly useless information. Maybe so I can sell it to someone. Maybe I just want to have it. Maybe one day I'll use it against you. Who knows. Well, I know. But how would you know? Again, you don't know a thing about me.

Don't worry about the coffee. This one's on me. 

-slides a crisp $20 and then disappears into the crowd

What I'm saying is that I'm going to continue to not post pictures, rarely comment on things and use Facebook only as a launch pad for my narcissistic blog that so many of you seem to enjoy. Don't worry, my lack of work on the net has been because of technical difficulties, not because I'm lacking ideas. 

Out there, somewhere, someone is doing or saying something incredibly stupid and/or poorly thought out. I promise I'll be there to make a snide comment about it.

Sincerely,

The Illustrious Mr. Charlton

p.s. That fake conversation I had with Smuck up there? Mark Zuckerberg does that at least once a day, for kicks.