The Nightmare Realm

It might have occurred to people who think too much just how close the internet is to becoming an alternative hellish dimension. Allow me to explain.

From the comfort of someone else's computer, I can parooze sites at will, clicking between webcomics, listening to music and looking for places to go on holiday. I can go onto this blog. Then, on this blog, I can go to stats and view how many people actually bother to read this. From there, I can view search keywords that have plunged some hapless internet cabbage through a portal into this world. The results are somewhat disturbing.

All the classics are there. Blogs, blogging, lemons, stevie, clockwork. There are some more outlandish ones like, 'history of American fencesitting Egypt' or 'Predator Drone analysis'. But nothing quite comes close to "Clockwork fisting porn".

What is particularly distressing is someone has actually gone to the trouble of looking for clockwork fisting porn.  No just fisting porn, but clockwork fisting porn. The worst part must be leaving it to your imagination to try and comprehend what this even means. But this is the internet. This is a lawless frontier world, predominantly ruled by teenagers and young adults. Mostly male. And their decrees are characterful:

"Rule 34: If it exists, there is porn of it."

But we're just scratching the surface with Rule 34, because Rule 34 states "If it exists". What people don't realise is that the internet seems to be some bottomless pit of human emotion, where even in the deepest darkest long-forgotten geocities sites, you can find the manifest dreams and nightmares of collective human consciousness. This means that the first part of Rule 34 is irrelevant. It exists. If you have dreamt it in your blackened soul, or in the bitter hours before the dawn, or whilst falling asleep on a train to Wolvehampton via Saturn, which departed from Lapland at the dawn of time, it exists.

And the prospect that the internet isn't just filled with porn, its filled with everything, is quite terrifying. Of course the internet is filled with porn. It's a running joke. Even the most conservative crusader couldn't even begin to tackle the vast mire of empyreal and hypothectical, intangible crap that could, and therefore must, be out there. But the internet is so much more than porn. The internet is filled with eternity.

You can finish reading about democratic reform in Egypt and get straight on to watching a monkey urinating into its own mouth. You can see drawings people have done of humanoid foxes fornicating on spaceships just having digesting the socio-political impacts of Colgate Total Whitening. You can listen to everything that isn't true. You can play right-wing games of Chinese whispers on an epic scale. You can pretend to be someone else. You can be someone else. You can learn emriodary from from a nun whilst the page on Famous Yorkshire Serial Killers loads up.

The internet is, essentially, an extradimensional hell of our own making. It will broker no attempts to tame it. As proved by the wiki-leaks case, and other times, the internet will fight back. Sites will crash, shares will plummet. Someone will have a nightmare about a giant hamster clutching siscors, and it will come true. A boy in the Congo will be filmed screaming something as a python devours him. It will become a meme. Someone will die, and millions will laugh.

So becareful, traveller, as you navigate the twisting and every changing multicolured spectrum that is the internet. Because one day, when you're alone in the house, you just might get sucked into this alternate dimension. And you will not be missed.