big brother 2010

i've just got to say that i'm kinda getting freaked out by the prospect of a real-life "big brother," and yes, in a very orwellian way. if you're a little rusty on your 1984, fret not; i'm gonna hit you with a twitter-style synopsis, 140 characters or less: big brother is the dictator in a futuristic world that’s all surveillancey and shit. succinct! ok, so you might be asking yourself, "what's going on in planet sparkle that's making rachel morgan so freaking paranoid?" (or you might be asking yourself, "what am i doing reading this blog right now? i have a lasagna in the oven and i must tend to it lest it burn." per my most recent blog, i've started to try to accept the fact that just maaaaybe, people aren't thinking only of me, all the time. bastards.) well, guys, i hate to be the one to break it to you, but i'm pretty sure the internet is big brother.

"THE INTERNET?!" you're likely asking yourself, shocked that anyone would possibly cast such aspersions on the one thing we all love so much that we've devised ways to carry with us at all times, talk about constantly, and spend countless hours enjoying her bountiful pleasures, such as google, youtube and porn. and, i have to say, yes; the internet is one powerful motherfucker. sure, the internet has a solid hold over all of us (i can admit that facebook and i might be best friends. sorry, ninja, you've been replaced. and, yes, this is because you've been a total slacker in your reciprocal blog loving. jk!!! love you!!! sorry, that interlude was probably really boring to everyone else reading this.), and i can't even begin to imagine how anyone ever did work or accomplished things before the internet. like, you had to fax people? and before that, call people? and before that, telegraph people? and before that, write to people and pray that it got there? jesus fucking christ that sounds awful.

ok, so we're hooked on this powerful beast, but what is really starting to freak me out is that the internet knows everything about me. like, seriously. if i google my name, i'm all over the fucking place, with everything from my high school and college athletics, to the really embarrassing things i wrote about nick carter like a decade ago, to articles i've written in my current 9-5ever. in a lot of ways, i feel like my life has been documented, forever, by the megabeast, the internet. i'm not so sure how i feel about this anymore, internet. i'm actually feeling a little violated... but i do understand that these are sort of very public sphere things i'm complaining about, so i'll let this one slide for now.

but i've got to take a stand, because not only are you using your crazy powers to spread the word of my awesomeness (i'm ok with that part, yo), you're also fucking hacking my shit now! like, every time i log into facebook, i'm bombarded with lesbian ads. and, no, i do not want to watch the movie drool, which is described as: anora collects her kids and new female lover for an offbeat roadtrip to bury daddy. that sounds terrrrible, facebook! and, wow, it is sooooo convenient that you're looking for 27 year old photographers! i just happen to be 27! and have like a bagillion facebook pictures!!! it's like you're in my head, internet!!!

i've been silently accepting you and your stupid targeted ads for a while now, internet (oh google is so guilty too, btw), because they've been somewhat vague and shot-in-the-dark-ish for the most part (i mean, sure you know i'm a big ol' dyke, but that's not exactly difficult to determine, is it?), but i think you took things a step too far today, big brother internet bastard. there i was, just a little rachel morgan doing her rachel morgan things, when i said to myself, "hey, rmb! let's check out some news on the superliberalawesomeadmittedlybiased website, huffingtonpost.com!" among headlines like "top 10 worst internet passwords" and "killer spiders invade austraia" (TRUTH TIME: if this headline ran with the word "california" in place of "australia," there is a reallyprobably chance this blog would center around my megahatred of spiders and serious concern that i would die, as well as various commentary about the movie arachnophobia.), there was a banner from the website allposters.com, which i'd recently been browsing for some crap to put on my walls.

specifically, i'd been looking at vintagey prints from one of my all time favorite movies, a philadelphia story, starring katharine hepburn, cary grant and james ste wart. i'd debated over a few, but didn't buy anything, and then, no more than ten minutes later, on the front page of huffpo, were the smiling faces of good ole' khep, cgrant and jstew... in an ad that not only peddled a philadelphia story, but also anything any of the stars had been in (which among those three is quite a resume, and i have to offer a momentary shout out to khep, because i maybe love her). i really couldn't believe you took it there, internet. i mean, it is one thing to be all helpful and informative and feed my late night shopping habit, and it is a whole other thing to monitor my every keystroke, gleaning your evil little knowledge from things like my desire to not have naked walls.

but, internet, bristle as i may at your dominance, i have to admit that i'm totally your bitch. like, you are the most powerful big brother in the history of big brothers, and you've got us right where you want us. i'm not certain we'd be able to figure out how to contact each other without you, internet. and, like, if facebook wasn't reminding me to reconnect with people, i totally wouldn't (actually, (99% of the people fb urges me to reconnect with are people i only vaguely remember existing, so like, don't care)! i remember when you were just a baby, internet. when you were all noisy and dial-uppy and slow and i had the stupidest aol screen name ever, piixy, ugh, which i am still annoyed by today. you were so charming and novel back then! now, over a decade later, the honeymoon is over.

yet, somehow, i'm more in love with you than ever. and i guess that's a good thing, because let's face it; you're not going anywhere anytime soon (apocalypse pending). see you on dads in short shorts tomorrow.