Progress is determined to get on my nerves. I think it was invented by devious, psychic pranksters with the foresight to know that someday it would drive me nuts. They must have been cavemen because progress started way back in the caveman days with the invention of the wheel. Or maybe even before that, depending on whatever cool stuff may have been invented before the wheel, like aftershave or bean bags. I’ll further address this issue a bit later.

Anyway, progress is making my computer dial-up connection seem really lame. Everybody else is downloading the shit out of everything that’s chunk-barfed onto the internet these days, while my screen freezes up whenever I try to access my own farking MySpace page. And forget trying to see anyone else’s page, because they’re all packed to the gills with a bunch of colossally dumbass YouTube videos.

Everything that can possibly be recorded by moving picture cameras is ending up on YouTube–dogs farting at blast furnaces, fat people diving into vats of boiling wolf urine, baby’s first “F-bomb”–and everybody seems to find it impossible to resist embedding links to all of this worthless bullshit all over every forum or profile they run across, turning the entire internet into a virtual cow-poop minefield for anyone on dial-up.

Whenever I click on a forum topic now, it isn’t a regular post with text in it anymore, it’s a freakin’ YouTube video and someone’s gushing “Hey, check out this funny ass video! LOLZ!” and I’m thinking “Great! I’ll get back to you on how awesome it was around, oh, NEXT WEEK because that’s about how long it’ll take me to download the thing, DUMBASS!!! I HATE YOU!!! GRRRRRRR!!!”

“Hey, check out this hilarious new Chris Crocker parody!” the horror continues. “It’s somebody’s two-year-old kid who doesn’t even know who the hell Chris Crocker is, and he’s in front of a sheet Mommy hung up in the bathroom, screaming ‘Weave Bwitney awone!’ like Mommy told him to! YAHHH ha-ha!”

“Great!” I scream. “I’ll just devote the next TWO FRIGGIN’ YEARS to downloading the STUPID, LAME-ASS PIECE OF SHIT VIDEO, YOU BRAIN DEAD MORON!!! KILL KILL KILL!!!”

So, I suspect that psychic cavemen invented aftershave, because cavemen didn’t shave–they just had incredibly long beards like ZZ Top–and thus they would have to have been psychic to have invented something that neither they nor anyone else had any possible use for yet, as logic would seem to dictate. I don’t know what ingredients they might have used to make caveman aftershave, but I suspect that one of them might indeed have been wolf urine, which is known to naturally possess rather bracing properties.

Known, that is, to people in Finland since the dawn of the Finnish caveman era. I don’t know why people in Finland have always seemed to know this, but it’s a fact. In fact, it’s a “Finnish Fact”, part of the “Finnish Facts” series of informative TV spots brought to you by the Finnish Department of Information, Tourism, Alcohol, Firearms, Nuclear Submarines, and Wolf Urine. These TV spots are highly educational and are great for kids who hope to someday wage futuristic laser war against vast hordes of invading Seth Green robots.

And, of course, cavemen of all nationalities (except Belgians) seem to have invented bean bags at roughly the same time, just as everyone seemed to invent breathing and going to the bathroom pretty much simultaneously for obvious reasons. You know those games where you toss the bean bags and try to flip over the tic-tac-toe tiles until you get three X’s or O’s in a row? Cavemen invented those, because they were still too stupid at the time to invent more complicated stuff like zeppelins. If cavemen had somehow invented zeppelins our entire history would have been different, or at least there would have been a whole lot more zeppelins in it. Which is another reason why progress sucks.

Progress has made my cassette tape collection pretty much obsolete, and my cassette tape collection is a hell of a lot better than my CD collection, that’s for sure. I have tons of great music on cassette tapes, but so far my CD collection consists of stuff like the soundtrack to “Titanic”, the Brady Bunch’s greatest hits, and some dusty old Al Stewart CD that I found in back of an abandoned car which doesn’t even have “Year of the Cat” on it, for Pete’s sake.

Of course my cassette tape players are all breaking down and I’m embarrassed to buy a new one at Wal-Mart because I’m afraid the clerk will point and laugh at me. So when I finally do begin to catch up with everyone else on this CD thing they’ll already be obsolete themselves and people will be listening to music that comes out of futuristic electronic buttplugs or something. “Hey, listen to this great song coming out of my ass” people of the future will say to me. I’m sorry, but no matter how much I love “Sgt. Pepper” or “Dark Side of the Moon”, I don’t want to hear them coming out of some fat guy’s ass.

“Hey, check out this awesome subwoofer when I bend over” he’ll urge. It will become increasingly difficult to politely decline such invitations. “Whoa, listen to ‘Freebird’ echoing through my lower intestine!” At some point, entire theater-quality home stereo systems will be available as rectal implants, and people will fart “Star Wars” prequels or have the climactic humans-vs.-machines battle from MATRIX:REVOLUTIONS blasting out of their sphincters. You’ll have to follow them to the bathroom just to hear how the movie comes out. And if they have diarrhea, the Burly Brawl could blow out the plumbing on your entire block.

DVD progress should stop right now. It’s good enough. I have my cheap DVD player, a bitchin’ DVD collection, and a big-screen TV. I’m all set. If progress screws that up, I’ll be really mad. But sure enough, they keep inventing newer crap to replace what I’ve already bought. HD, Blu-Ray, blah blah blah. It’s just like the fashion industry–they just keep changing stuff because they want you to keep buying new stuff before the old stuff wears out.

How sharp of a TV image do we really need? It’ll just keep getting sharper and sharper, until finally a single split-second closeup of Arnold Schwarzenegger or Harvey Keitel will make our eyeballs explode. But by then they’ll probably have invented futuristic TV eyeballs to replace your regular eyeballs, and Vin Diesel will be right there inside your head with his shirt off. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want Vin Diesel inside my head with his shirt off. So as far as progress is concerned, I am definitely drawing the line at TV eyeballs.



This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: