I hope you're not counting me among the outraged and disgusted. It's not strong enough for that. I mean, once someone's emailed you a file of a bald guy sticking his whole head up a girl's cooch, it's kind of the top of the mountain (that was yesterday).
And, it's true, I did ask "What are we doing?" But that's not even worthy of being rhetorical, is it? We all know the main reason people are here, it's the same reason that traffic was backed up yesterday from state route 306 all the way to my street just because an old man drove his car over the curb and wrecked the planter boxes at Luigi's Pizza and Drive-Thru. It's the reason that the main bulk of data flowing through the greatest communication system since the fucking printing press is porno, and because of that at any goddamn given moment there's a bunch of guys sitting in front of terminals with their pants down around their knees messing up perfectly good office chairs. It's dog bites man, it's watching Japanese execs doing Elvis on karaoke night. And, by default, I imagine the organizational line is that it's Good For Business, and that would be absolutely fucking dead-to-the-boards right. And it's true that "SOLO gets that way," because pretty much most things at least that I've ever ran into Get That Way<tm>. I only frequent one place, including my own home, that never Gets That Way<tm>, and anyone around here that knows me knows where that is, which to most of them makes me invalid, and I say, hey, that's right, Blessed Be and if you don't like that eff yo mama (or Adam, or his daughter, or whoever else you feel like effing). And was it Robert B. that was writing about "stylized behavior" and that elevated way of being? Well, he must have just fallen off the back of the turnip truck, didn't he? Eff you, Robert. Eff, Eff, Eff!!!...have I got an email file for your stylized ass! I have Been To The Top of The Mountain and, my tight-assed brethren and sistren, I am here to tell you: The Barn Door is OPEN!!
There, now. That's much better, and I haven't even BEGUN to flog this dog and pony show.
I wish I could attribute that to a 3-martini lunch.