On the Rag

121110

  It’s early in the AM a half decade ago when I’m sitting at my desk, jacked into a world nothing like my own. The room around me is dark and silent and unmoving but before my eyes and pouring into my ears through the AKGs I have around my head is a totally different experience. It’s bright and lush and cheerfully deadly. Even a ladybird, endlessly looping through its animation cycle, is a force to be reckoned with to rookies like us. Noobs. Shedding our mortal coil with the limpest of attacks. It’s an age where gamer was still a dirty word and where cyber-girlfriends were a novelty rather than a trap. An innocence existed on the web – in small pockets admittedly but existed nevertheless – and we were in it, babes suckling on its pixelated bosom, never knowing – and how could we – of the horrors that awaited us all in a galaxy not nearly far far away enough.

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~ by Joseph Blame on December 11, 2010.

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