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I’m sorry for making you think that I might have been kidnapped by terrorists, disappeared in a blackout, lost on a server, stepped into the dark-net or just not been active any ever more.
It’s the end of the year and that time when you are supposed to make an evaluation. If I might do that evaluation based on your algorithms, which are pretty repetitive, I would say they sound like cheap EDM. But, let’s be honest, who am I to speak out loud anyway in this wast mass of voices that find spaces to be answered given by you, where opinions have become ever more senseless outbursts absolutely out of track, but users keep on playing them on your decks. But, let’s not be too negative, you also brought me big joy in 2016. It has been when you haven’t been there.
2016, or better said the second half of this more shitty year then the shitty year before, has dragged me into becoming a never satisfied news eater with no real output, as information doesn’t end up in the natural process of virtual digestion as we all expected from you, when we first built you, to be the voice of truth and illumination for the common man. While you have become one of the biggest energy consumers in the world, with all those cooling servers in the middle of nowhere, feeding me and yourself with unbelievable news, I sit here now, once again, looking into your window. You are a weird being Internet, and yet, we all so much depend on you. And can’t without you, any ever more.
When Algorithms dominate your life and some money making wankers of a hedge fund even come up with the Idea to create a software that will make decisions instead of humans about things that will affect humans, some alarms should finally ring in everybody’s brains. But maybe you are the extension of my brain, and my brain has taken you in as so, as everybody's else.
We need answers, as you tell us, as we use you for. But you give us so many, I can’t really tell which one I like more.
So here might be for 20-17, to forget the 20-16, as you say nothing good has happened at all. When shit comes down, you don’t know what to do, don’t know what to say about all the shit that surrounds you, take it easy, do as if nothing ever happened or has been said before, and JUST SMILE.
Bye Bye Internet 20-16, welcome Internet 20-17.
A DIE-CUT with a JUST SMILE SWEATSHIRT