Do you write things on the Internet? Do you air your opinions or your views online? Have you ever once commented on something in cyberspace?
Congratulations then, you are a rising Internet Star. Here’s an award. it’s made of shit and glitter. Stick it on your mantelpiece or something.

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This is your certificate of Internetism.
Great title, huh? It’s just one of the ways someone who emailed me earlier on this week referred to themselves. The other moniker they attached to themselves, limpet like, was – get this, you’ll like this – Fast Becoming An Internet Celebrity.

Ha! You may as well call yourself King of Shitsville. Queen of Absolutely Fucking Nothing. Congratulations! Your kingdom is made up of pixels and emoticons and your populace consists almost entirely of LOLCats and idiots spouting fuckwitted opinions, like me at this moment on this blog right here .

Because I’m another one. This blog shouldn’t be called The Lucky Apple it should be called ME! ME! LOOK AT ME! and there should be a ‘Like’ button at the end of every paragraph which you have to click because if you don’t your nearest hospital builds a gigantic pyre and BURNS all their kidney dialysis machines.

‘Internet Celebrity’. For fucks sake.

You see the Internet is the nearest thing our civilisation has to the font of all human knowledge condensed into a vessel no bigger than the palm of your hand. That should blow your mind. It certainly blows mine. Every second millions and millions of pounds, or dollars or yen are being moved around on it. Friendships are blossoming. Someone, somewhere is being talked down from suicide as I write this. It can find the things you thought irretrievable, the people you thought forgotten.

It can also be used to make gifs of people falling over, construct vast networks of message boards built almost entirely on sarcasm and bitchery or just to watch porn, porn, porn.

I don’t care. make use of it how you will, it’s not a sacred cow, it’s not Bono’s ego, it’s just the internet. But don’t tell me you’re becoming something of a sensation on it because that would make you shortsighted at best and a human vacuum at worst.