The Internet is Bad // Rebels At Large

From Josh: Dennis White is one of the most creative people I know. When he's not inventing new names to call himself (Static Revenger, D-Dub, Charm Farm, and probably some others I don't know about), he's making dancefloor-packing and chart-topping remixes and original productions, innovative videos or acting as a creative director for Rebel. Plus, he mixes a mean margarita. We've hung out together on more than one continent, and had each other's backs against barracuda. In other words, we've been in the shit. Dennis and I both suffer from a chronic condition: lack of tolerance for stupidity. We experience this affliction in different ways: You might say it makes his skin itch, while it makes my head hurt.

Read his piece here about one of the many things wrong with the world and how to fix it. Then check his music and video skills at and and

The Internet is Bad by Dennis White

So, here's my blog post. I hate blogs. Sounds like blob. And I'm not sure that I like blobs.

Mr. Levine has encouraged me to participate in the 'discussion' on Rebel Industries and I'm enough of a fan of his to want to follow his lead. I warned him that I don't like the internet, marketing, social networking, blogging, flogging, computer chatting, texting, tweeting, twitting, tight fitting jeans. I might NOT be the ideal contributor.

Problem is, I'm just old enough to have tried every new internet thing since 1993, the first time that it came out, when it sucked in obscurity. AOL Chat rooms? Freaks. Email? Bullshit. Online porn? Too slow. Social networking? Hows about you and I be friends, and cut out the middleman... I'm WAY behind on everything because I was way ahead on it.

I don't like any of this social networking nonsense. It is enslaving and alienating, and we're too caught up in bullshit updates, and friend requests from hot chicks, to know any better or care. I resent that our friendships are being exploited and re-purposed into bland entertainment to the benefit of companies using us as stooges to get their advertising space sold. And LOOK at the photos on most of those social networking sites... LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME!!! I have muscles! I know hot chicks! I have big tits! I look good in a bikini! I've gone some place interesting! (click HERE to buy cheap insurance)... oh F**K OFF!

My engineer is trying to save me from my impending irrelevance, and signed me up on twitter. It's the thing this week. Maybe last week. Twitter. Really? I thought he was kidding. DORKster was taken? JERKster is owned by a Russian domain name sales site? Sigh. Fine. If you don't know about this twitter thing, then let me just take this opportunity to tell you that I love you. Really. The chances that you and I can be friends is far likelier than the chances of me befriending any of the thousands of friends that I paid some assistant to acquire for me on Myspace.

Twitter is bullet point blogging, more or less. You can write only a few sentences per 'update'. And people can subscribe to your updates, or you can deliver them online in various ways. Drew, my engineer, assures me that it's awesome, because (I stop listening about here)... so fine, I shall commence twitting. Is it called tweeting? Knowing this stuff is today's equivalent of knowing how to pronounce INXS in 1982. So, great - I have, like 4 people following me on twitter, so I figure, I better make it sound interesting.... HEY! I'm in Key Largo fishing and diving...HEY! I'm in northern Michigan snowmobiling....HEY! I heard me on the radio...LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! ....D'OH!

I am, however, under the brief impression that there are 2 things that I like about this - 1. it only allows me 2 sentences or so, so it doesn't take that much time to 'update' (no gigs, photos, subscriptions, etc.) and 2. there doesn't seem to be an advertising annoyance, except I've been getting some random twitter usernames following me in suspiciously relevant ways. For example, I updated that I was in Naples, Florida and 20 minutes later, I received an email telling me that I was being followed by my long lost friends at 'naplesscubagear' Wow. Clever. Now I really feel like a twit.

I don't like this form of communication because 1. it fills our head with even more useless nonsense (I caught a fish!) and 2. it robs us of the ability to introduce people individually to our experiences. I want to tell a friend where I've been and what I've been doing, with out it already being a re-run. 'DUDE! I caught a nurse shark with my bare hands!' 'Yeah- I know.' Sigh.

How about instead of advertising the highlights of your life to a bunch of people that wouldn't even CONSIDER driving you to the airport, take the time you spend fucking about on facebook to write a considered, and thoughtful letter to an actual friend. If you are uncomfortable communicating without an option for advertising, include one of those Bed Bath and Beyond coupons that we all have piling up in a drawer, but never seem to have on hand when we actually end up there.

I know that I ain't nothing but my grandpa complaining about Elvis right now, but dagnabit, I will NOT going quietly into polite societies good night- SOME one has to say it - we're being used, and enslaved by this nonsense, and society individually and collectively suffers for it.

See, I told you, Josh, I'm not the ideal blog contributer. Now leave me alone. I have iPhone apps to buy, and a wooden duck to carve.

Now playing: Beach Boys, 'I Just Wasn't Made For These Times.'