As the Internet’s Bitch

Last night, shortly after watching a comedy show spewing with brilliance, I stumbled into the reality that technology owns our lives.com.

Eddie had repeatedly mentioned the exalted iPhone, the godly Wikipedia, and the… well, Hulu – once, actually.

It came to my realization that technology, namely the Internet, had only recently became one of our classmates, one of our co-workers, one of our family members barely ten years ago. And in that span of ten years, we’ve developed an intimate, loving, clingy BFF relationship.

We are the Internet’s bitch. We shop with it, communicate with it, navigate with it, share secrets with it. The Internet has seen pictures of ourselves that we could never show our own mother. The Internet knows our credit card number, knows that we’re using a proxy, knows that we didn’t read through those terms and conditions before agreeing.

I make sandwiches for the Internet and fetch his slippers. And I would never bash the Internet, because I know he’s always listening.