Hello internet.  I’m Anonymous hacker/dad, George Wally.  This is my last communication before I turn to the dark arts of personal computers hacking.  Now that my wife, JoAnne Gunderson-Wally, has learned that I’ve been living in our daughter Leila’s, Little Princess Play Castle in the backyard, and called the police to have me escorted off the property, I have no choice but to destroy the corporate forces that I believe drove the wedge into our marriage.  Do you hear me Gary Rounds of Rounds Fitness?  I don’t know who you think you are, but making love to my wife while I’m supposed to be at my Internet 101 class at the Cambridge Center for Adult Education is NOT HAPPENING ON MY WATCH.

I mean, it’s already happened, but I am not taking this lying down.  Well, yeah, I was lying down for the last couple weeks inside my daughter Leila’s Little Princess Play Castle, but that was a reconnaissance mission, and now I’ve got the evidence I need to take you down, Gary Rounds of Rounds Fitness.  And I am wiping my ass with those divorce papers, JoAnne!

Now I’ll admit, I’m new to the hacking world.  But I’ve already finished two classes: “Basic Word 95” and “Computers, You Dummy!”, and once I get my bank accounts unfrozen, I’ll be able to pay the rest of the $300 tuition for my certificate in computing, and then YOUR INTERNETS ARE BELONGS TO US GARY ROUNDS (pro tip: hackers code their threats in funny grammar, something W1zardL0rd16 taught me and he’s already a black-cap hacker).

For you n00ds, (computer user with zero caps or hats skill level), a hacker is someone who can use computers, Microsofts, Apples and pretty much any video games (hacker crack), that he touches.  A hacker is someone, who when his wife of 17 years leaves him with nothing but his HP Deskwriter printer and his “A  Dad” mug, knows that he can find a home with any of his other Anonymous hacker pals, because we are a brotherhood.  We are family.  We meet up at the Gordo Pollo in the food court, Sundays at noon, near the payphones.  You have been warned.

And YOU have been warned Gary Rounds of Rounds Fitness.  I may not have the all the black-cap hacker skills in my tool shed YET, but I do have the hacker heart and hacker brains and I’ll tell you what, something I learned from my 10 year old son, Jackson, I’ve got hacker dreams.  Well, no, he didn’t actually say that, but I know my son and it’s totally something he’d say about his hacker dad.  He really looks up to me.  I know that he was just trying to throw his mom off the trail when he screamed, “you have no idea what you’re talking about Dad, you’re such a loser and stop using my laptop!”  My kids get me.

Dreams are what fuel the hacker movement.  So be afraid, Gary Rounds, when I tell you I’ve got more than enough dreams to fuel a 1975 Dodge Dart that I’ve been meaning to fix up, but JoAnne had towed from the yard when she kicked me out of the house.  I’ve got dreams of moving back in with my wife and kids, and dreams of hacking into your corporate website and changing the introductory price of a membership to Rounds Fitness from 35 dollars a month to 5 dollars a month.  YOU WATCH YOUR BACK.

I want to move back in, JoAnne.  Marriage is sacred.  I swear, once I have the black-cap hacker skills to fight for what I believe in and make some cash, I will definitely NOT be spending my days on the couch ordering kitchen gadgets from Skymall.  That was a mistake.  A mistake I repeated for four years, yes, but I’ve said I’m sorry.  What more do you want?  I told you I WILL be able to replace the kids’ college funds once I’ve finished my computer certificate classes.  It’s like you don’t even listen.   Hacking is not illegal, JoAnne!  Well, I mean, technically, it is, but the whole WORLD is illegal!

I don’t know, it’s something W1zardL0rd16 and GumbaSq4sher always say on American On Line.  It’s a hacker thing, JoAnne, you wouldn’t even begin to understand.

Welp, I think I’ve made myself clear.  Anonymous hacker dad, George Wally, signing off.  If you are reading this, the revolution has already begun.

Oh whoa, man.  You will not believe what I just found out while exploring the future in my sweet-ass time machine.  Great news!  The Universe is empty, meaningless, and nothing will ever matter!  Isn’t that totally badass?   Hey, stop crying; this is no reason for tears, this is a terrific day for us!  Turns out, we humans TOTALLY fuck everything up!  Well, yes, it’s great, because even though we totally fuck everything up, and I mean EVERYTHING, we destroy our bodies, we turn the Earth into a wasteland, we monetize water and start wars over it…we actually have a war so heinous we somehow manage to make the southern hemisphere of the Earth break off and exit orbit!  I mean, we REALLY fuck things up.  But here’s the sitch…it doesn’t matter!  It doesn’t matter at all.  First off, every time we screw ourselves, we just continue on.  We keep on ticking.  We’re like roaches, if roaches had emotional problems that made them cry while watching Court TV.  Nothing seems to stop us.  We keep on keeping on, and hey, let’s check, does anything matter yet?  Nope? Let’s check in the year 20030303030, do our actions matter then?  Sure as shit, not!  Ever?  Not a goddamn minute of here til eternity matters.

 Here’s why:  Fast forward about 60 Billion yrs into the future, and there’s this event called the Big Rip.  Sounds rad, right?  TOTALLY RAD.  The universe starts to expand so violently that every atom is pulled apart from itself, and the ENTIRE FUCKING UNIVERSE IS DESTROYED.  It’s an inevitable event.  It’s already in progress, it just takes like, FOREVER to finish, but it’s unstoppable.  No way around it. Believe me, we try.  We hop around to different universes and shit to escape it, but turns out, everything is connected, and it’s all doomed.  There you go.  All that crying and bitching about eating organic, and not driving huge cars when huge cars are totally bitchin’, all that worry about “justice” and moral platitudes about right and wrong, all that celebrity worship and zit cream, all that worry about what to do with your shitty pants when you shit your pants and you’re a stupid pants shitting adult…all that shit could have gone any which way and in the end, it all gets destroyed like a fucking sand castle at high tide.  SWEET, right?  What do mean, “Why is that sweet?”  Because it’s freedom, man.  Any choice you make has no consequence other than whatever you’re feeling at that particular moment.  All you need to do is seek out maximum pleasure at every possible juncture, and then can kiss your decisions right in the dick!  Life just got SUPER EASY.  I mean, it was pretty easy before if you didn’t give a shit, but even then, once in awhile you’d have this creeping doubt about whether being a selfish dickhead was really the right way to go.  I mean, what if “reap what you sow” wasn’t just a cliché, and being a shitty cock fart made the next dude a shitty cock fart, and that shitty cock blaster made the next dude a farty shit cock, and so on down the line until things were just horrible and shitty and full of cock-mess for everybody…well, it doesn’t fucking matter, because even if you’re a terrific unshitty tight-ass who spends all your time not jerking yourself off, so the next guy will totally not jizz his shitty dumb gook all over somebody else, and eventually every single fucking one of these cock angels with glowing clean taints have evolved a non-existent asshole and turn every breath they take into pure energy that they fart out their earholes, all those perfect asshole-less non-jizzing ear farters will still get swallowed by the gaping maw of nothingness and ripped to shreds by the gnashing teeth of the lion that waits hiding in the sky to devour us all.  It’s all going away one day, REGARDLESS OF OUR ACTIONS.  It’s fucking fantastic!!  We’re free, man!  FREE!  Hey, you’re still crying, what gives?