Can you feel it? The Internet is stalking us.
This is nothing new, it's been stalking me for some time now. Sidebar ads. Recommendations when I search for something on the great and powerful Google. Recipes for delicious Spam primavera when I go to my spam folder in email.
The most recent disturbing message came when I Twittered about our office coffee and it's lack of quality. Mere moments later, I got an email from WebMD asking me if I didn't think, perhaps, my caffeine intake was a tad high.
This is uncalled for. If good things happened with this whole Internet spying thing, I wouldn't mind. If, for example, it triggered shipments of free bacon to my home any time I mentioned #bacon on Twitter, or if someone mysteriously showed up at the office with a four-shot of espresso when I disparage office coffee, we'd be golden.
But really, Internet? Questioning my caffeine intake? Spam-kebabs? Who are you to judge, oh great Judgie McJudgerson? Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, that Zuckerberg kid from Facebook, whoever invented Google, and even Al Gore, I'm looking at you. Stop stalking me, just let me live my life in peace. Am I going insane, here? Are we in danger of the Internet ruling our lives until we run, screaming, to a tiny shack in the middle of Montana to write our manifestoes on manual typewriters, far from the prying eye of the Worldwide Web? I think so!
But then again, that could be the caffeine talking, I suppose.
Carry on.
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