Fruit of My Loins

DownTime

Sunday 19 July 10pm

I'm sick of writing about other people. Pig-sick of it. Nobody gives a flying fuck about me, so this one's for yours truly - even although I hate myself too. It's how I was raised.

This morning was awful. First spider fingers of depression, grubbing out this year's weaknesses. It's a month since the Solstice, you see, and now - this evening - the sky's the darkest yet. Ten at night, and the street lamps glow brighter than the rainy grey above. Much brighter. Back then would have been pure Teletubby - blue, and white, and teasing glimpses of sun. Sic transit gloria mundi. ( I said that to Ian recently, when I noticed his two new love-handles. In a strange yet understandable way I think he was relieved. )

Why was the morning so awful? Because I deleted my message board. On purpose. Well, to be honest, I deleted what was left after the first deletion. Confused? Then let me tell you about InsideTheWeb, and the little board I've been running since April.

You probably know all that InsideTheWeb stuff - flashing ads at the top and bottom, and message threads in between. A bit like the old Usenet newsgroups, but prettier, and moderated if you want. And if you don't see a board which exactly suits your tastes, it's easy. Just start your own.

You click on the ITW site, follow the links, fill in an easy questionnaire, and - way to go, dude - you're an Administrator or Moderator. All you need now is punters to write in with messages. And - most importantly for ITW - other punters to read em.

Bizzarely, word got round, and before long came my first unsolicited post. Hold, Approve or Delete? Approve of course!!! Approve, Approve, APPROVE!! Man this is living! Full Power!!

You know, it all worked a treat! People sent messages, I approved them. People replied to the messages, and I approved the replies. Awesome. Just like the real thing, but with ME in charge. Honestly - for the first time in my life my actions actually had a consequence.

You gotta realise here that your author is not the most assertive and successful of people. I'm so overlooked I'm invisible. The moment I speak, everyone interrupts. My few timid suggestions are ignored or reversed. I spend hours on end writing to you here, and no fucker ever reads it.

But hey this was different! These people needed me - needed my Approval, literally. As Moderator I quickly gave myself a new name, identity, and of course Hotmail address. Guys wrote to me, asking what I thought of this idea or that one. I deliberated and pronounced. I judged, and I permitted. Oh - now and again I trashed a few posts, just for the hell of it. "Obvious bloody fake" - begone. Banish. Back to the fantasy boards where your sticky smelly fingers belong.

But one gloomy night it all went pear-shaped. Other boards with similar topics sprang up, pinching my trade. Aggressive competition was hitting the business, and there were only two options - fight back or give up. You may guess which path we chose.

We seem inherently incapable of 'fighting back'. That's why chess is such a no-no. The moment my opponent moves his first pawn, I get an overwhelming urge to resign. After all, he wants to win; I'm trained to lose, so where's the problem?

So I panicked, got depressed, and deleted them all. It took only seconds. Tick, tick, tick in all the boxes, then one final press on the Delete button and they were gone. Time for Tubby Bye Bye.

Business is the same. We've tried our hand at capitalist endeavours, every time ending in debt and dismay. Poverty and repayment are our natural conditions, and the minimum wage our just desert. From the gutter there's just no place to fall.

All those stories masquerading as fact. All the skill and care and heart-wrenched angst the punters had poured out, expunged in the push of a pointer on a button.

How I wish someone had told me all that before I studied away my youth for a much-vaunted "future". I would have made a superb junkie rent-boy.

The board was no more - and neither was I. For nothing is sadder than yesterday's Moderator, all Logged In with nothing to Approve.

Well - not strictly true. Sadder still is yesterday's dealer with nothing to chop, or the day before's Sex God now old, fat and bald.

Of course I panicked even further then. Wrote frantically to InsideTheWeb, begging them to delete the board, so I could pass this literary vandalism off as their fault. Boards which transgress their policies get deleted all the time. But what I didn't know - couldn't know - was the fact that my little board had scored over 22,000 hits in its short life. Over 300 a DAY at its peak - that's more than this site has had in its lifetime.

Yes, my board flew in the face of InsideTheWeb's "policies", but no, they didn't care, as long as the hits kept flying in, so they could up their rates to the advertisers. To hell with veracity, morals, and family values! Who gives a shit, when those hit counters are whizzing so fast they turn into $$$$$ signs??

Still InsideTheWeb wouldn't delete. Bastards. But now they have. My board is no more. Yet another failed project. Ever seen a birth certificate with REJECT stamped across it?

Mavis Beacon posts on Inside The Web: Bravo, magnificat! At last we're getting somewhere! How many times have I told you that using others to illustrate your own condition is both wasteful and inefficient? But here you artfully demonstrate controlled revelation, leading to heightened interest, and every single word is about yourself! Well done!
magnificat: bursts into tears.