Anonymous said...

One of the common-shared problems associated with surfing on the internet is that you catch all sorts of worms and virus if you're not careful enough. As for the blogger, one of the most wide-spread bacterias he may get exposed to is the self-called "Anonymous said..."
This is it how it works: you post a thread, "Anomynous said..." comes into contact with it and infects the "comment" cell. It then duplicates its ADN and maliciously multiplies itself. You then find your dear little blog struggling with all kind of parasites, ranging from "I read your shit" to " buy yourself a life" or "Shut up you moron"

As most viruses do, the "Anonymous said..." bacteria stays in the organism for a few days or a few weeks, depending on its resilience. I probably caught my bacteria (whose devastating effects can be examined in some of the previous posts) by leaving my URL on one those broad-mindening american forums I've recently visited. I was careless, I fucked without condom, so I take the blame for it. A bacteria can't be held responsable for its actions. I can.

Some webmasters and bloggers deal with worms and bacterias by deleting their posts. I won't do that for three reasons.

1: braindead stupidity cannot freely express oneself in the real world, because there it bears a name and a face and is likely to get first-hand punishment. Internet is much more democratic than that, since it allows stupidity to travel unchallenged from a website to another. I like that. I think it's cool.

2: the act of blogging implies the hope for readers, hence the hope for comments. My "Anonymous said..." bacteria writes comments, which is better than nothing. I will take all that the Web can give: hate, abuse, anger, innuendos, despise, calomny, cynism, discrediting attempts and, once in a while, witty and delightful plaudits or critics backed by real arguments. But i'm not longing for that too much

3: I was running short of ideas, and my bacteria gave me two new ideas: a) imagining a new form of porn featuring double-penis guys and double-head chicks (try to imagine the number of mathematical possibilities here); b) writing about the freedom of speech and more precisely about Oliver Stone's 1985 film, Talk Radio.

So to "Anonymous said..." and other bacterias to come:

Kind regards, and see you soon.

Forums in Latium

As someone said back in the 80's, "I remember well what I didn't forget." I visited Roma once, the real one, the living capital of the lost Roman world. I was just a kid, but I remember it. And I visited the forum there, at least what remains of it.
Every roman city had a forum back then: an open public place where citizens discussed about the city's daily business. Now that democracy rhymes with modernity, forum has become a discussion board on the internet.

Does that mean people discuss the world's daily business? Sure it does. I visited the other day an American forum and posted a new thread about politics in the medias and the bad treatment some candidates received. I was told to fuck off. And so I did fuck off and I came back with something new: I copied and pasted an article about low-cost Christmas decorations. That was a massive success.

"99 cent, dollar stores, Walmart have inexpensive xmas decorations. Many charities and self help groups make and sell xmas decorations too", said nitram.

"Um, I guess you could string together some Cheerios, or if you really want to wow them with a splash of color - some Fruit Loops - and put them on the tree like garland", said Twinkle Toes.

"I just saw in Martha Stewart, maybe, to string the popcorn alternating with fresh cranberries. It looked beautiful. Don't know how low cost that is, I think cranberries are about $1 per bag. Don't know how many bags one would need, though, probably no more than two. My question was how long will something like this last?" was mommytotwo's contribution.

And finally deerislesmile said: "One of my first, very broke, Christmases, I hung Hershey's miniatures and added some beer caps hanging on wire. It was like a Redneck Christmas, but it was festive."

I thought I was accepted by the parliament, and so my confidence grew. I posted a thread about social issues in western countries. But the deputees didn't vote the motion. Some called me a troll, others just said "lame". I was kicked out of the Forum and banned for a while from the political scene. I switched off my computer and harped on my poor condition.
And then, at the lowest point of my career, I found this one topic that would bring me redemption and political acceptance from my peers. I bravely switched on my computer, I went straight at the forum pages and as I stood in front of the assembly, with defiant faces staring at me, I posted a new thread: "Success Tips for Transplanting and Moving Garden Plants".

I got 675 views and 42 replies, Senior members gave me loads of positive ratings. I was accepted. I was a democrat. I was a member. A true member of a true forum. A forum in Latium.

Anonymous Rebelius

Uncle Plato was a visionary man, an outstanding child abuser and a first-class philosopher, no question about that. His oligarchy/democracy/anarchy triptych and his theory about the propensity of democracy to decay into anarchy are still relevant today, for most of its parts. But for all the intellectual spice of his grotto's allegory, he couldn't match Corneille's Alcandre on one point: foreseeing. The advent of the Anonymous Rebelius: he didn't see that one coming.

In the human evolution process, Anonymous Rebelius was preceded by Anonymous Democratus. Anonymous Democratus was not easy to handle. He complained about laws, started a few revolutions and wars, claimed power and regularly barked for social changes. Sometimes Anonymous Democratus made silly mistakes, like sitting Napoleon in a throne or Hitler in an armchair, but he tried to learn from that. He sent his children to school, studied the past and gave his best to make his life a worthy one.

He didn't mind to be anonymous as long as he remained democratus. He wanted to be consulted every now and then on the march of the world, the price of vegetables and the TV programs. Even when he didn't vote, he wanted the right to vote. Even if he hated school, he felt it was right to have school obligations. Even if he couldn't stand authority, he was relieved to see police cars patrolling in his street.
Anonymous Democratus desired recognition as well. He sure admitted he would never be Churchill, Balzac or Elvis Presley. He heard their speeches, read their books and listened to their songs without angry feeling. He just wanted to be spotted by some as an individual, whether it was for his working skills, community commitments or love-making capacities. He could go back from work in the evening with a clear conscience. If he was an artist, he would fight his way to self-achievement. If no one knew his face, it was alright by him, as long as many knew his works.

But after a while, Anonymous Democratus went through a middle-age crisis. He looked back in history and couldn't see anylonger the starting point of democracy. He was surrounded by it, as his father and his grandfather were before him. Everybody was democratus, and despite what he read in history books, he began to consider that everybody always was. Some tribes were not democratus yet, but then they were africanus or musulmanus, and that said all. A few democratus napalm bombings or tank action and things would be sorted out soon.
And so Anonymous Democratus thought that it was time to move on. Democracy was granted at birth, it was only a case now of not staying anonymous...

Anonymous Rebelius was born in 1987, on October the 3rd. He can't sing, he can't write, he can't act, he can't work, he can't think, he can't talk, he can't learn, he can't teach, he can't swim, he can't cook. But his website has been visited by 5,000,000 viewers, he's been invited to every broadcasted TV and radio show on Earth. He made the News headlines and is hungry for more. Teenage girls wet their pants by staring at his photos on the Web. He made thousands of babies all over the world without even using his penis. He's the one name they won't forget, the one face they won't miss, until there are so many of them that he'll be lost in the crowd.

For what will happen once the queue lines in front of casting agencies will be 50 kilometers long, once everyone's story and pictures will be published online, once each individual owns his duplicate on Facebook? What will happen when Anonymous Rebelius will look around and see nothing else but other Anonymous Rebelius? He won't find it cool. He won't find it trendy. He will look back in history and maybe look with a dash of regret at the wise and quiet Anonymous Democratus.