The Internet is a marvelous work and a wonder. Except when
it’s not.
On one of the websites where I post my writing, people
occasionally chime in, sound off, make comments, and post responses. These people
do not identify themselves with their given names. They use online names or
aliases such as “Hello Kitty Hat Hair” or “Dolphin Dew Dipper.” They often say
complimentary and encouraging things about my writing.
The problem is that I’m never sure if these people are real.
I mean, it would be one thing if somebody with a name . . .
oh . . . I don’t know . . . maybe, a name like Ray Bradbury commented on my
recent essay about chupachabras by saying, “Nicely shaped paragraphs” or
“lovely sentence length” or “good use of the article ‘the.’”
Note: Yes, I
know that my writing idol, Ray Bradbury, is dead. But still, how cool would
that have been?
Ray Bradbury would be one thing but when Dolphin Dew Dipper
sends me a note saying, “You’re funnier than a monkey sitting on a power pole
that may or may not be a chupacabra—the monkey, not the pole,” I tend to wonder
if Dolphin Dew Dipper isn’t a Ukrainian chick trying to hack my computer in an
attempt to get to my sensitive vital statistics.
Or, that Dolphin Dew Dipper isn’t really my husband trying
to get to my sensitive undercarriage—also vital statistics.
I want to believe that people saying nice things are real. I
do.
But what if Dolphin Dew Dipper is really homeland security,
because the word chupacabra is a codeword meaning ‘dirty bomb transport ship arriving
from Pissport Nowhere?’ The subtext of which is, “Round her up, boys.”
Or what if Dolphin Dew Dipper is my mortal, sworn enemy come
back from my too trusting past to taunt me with manipulative, faux praise
designed to soften me up for that Ukrainian hacker chick?
See my problem?
The Internet is a marvelous work and a wonder. Except when
it isn’t. Who knows if anyone is who they say they is/are/was/were/am?
But this much I do know. I know who I am, and that I really
am who I am when I say that I am that. Even if sometimes I’m less of who I wish
I was and more of what I could be, except when I’m not.
Count on it.
Linda (Zippity) Zern
