Reporting live from inside Gaia Online

Gaia is great because it is full of people who just can’t seem to get a grip on real life at all. With all its fantasy role-playing, cliquishness, inside jokes, and the unending affection of total strangers, it is a welcome hideout for the socially awkward to escape to. It’s also a place, however, that some must inevitably escape from.

Gaia has its own economy, its own government, its own society, subcultures, and religion. It has all the inclinations of our modern-day, real-life architecture, but it exists entirely within a digital computer world in which everyone is rewarded for their contributions and participation. While this appeals to the same gear of human nature which likes videogames and play-until-you-win reward systems, some people replace real-life interaction with this alternative reality in which everyone can be a winner all the time. And because this is the new reality that replaced the old one, in which we used to have to be there for our friends and communicate with them and be good to them, help them out with their issues, and so on, its lack of social challenge perverts these users’ concept of what meaningful social interaction is, because there is no real basis for friendship anymore. You can now make friends by looking at their profile, making a comment about it, and then sending a friend request. This is easy to do and anybody can have thousands of digital friends and still speak to just a couple of people every day. So then social interactions start to mutate, and we begin replacing one emotion with another. Because a friend’s enthusiastic laughter no longer accompanies every interaction, we begin replacing one genuine emotion – happiness – with others: attachment, intimacy, joy from acceptance, and from sharing secrets or an experience unique to this kind of existence.

Just today I discovered two people playing out this weird mommy/daughter role-play fantasy routine where the daughter keeps asking mommy if she loves her enough, and taking issue with the fact that she is never there.

thx i just fekt out because u where never on and u where on when i was not V_V but now its ok ^_^

^in response to the following:

OK…I just want you to know that NO MATTER WHAT I am your friend/mom! ^_^ So I need to tell you that this weekend I won’t be on because I am going to my fiancee’s mom’s house and she doesn’t have interwebz…. crying BUT I will get on asap! ^_^ How are you doing??

The posts are being deleted every day or two, probably because the daughter doesn’t want the outside world to see what she has been doing with her internet time, especially not real mommy and daddy.


You see, this is just the hilarious tip of the iceberg. Between exaggerated realities like the example you see here, and the kid who posts in the non fiction arena about his dad beating him and his sister with a thirty foot extension cord, you have a bell curve of people who talk about goths, and how they aren’t goths, “emos”, their avatars, vampires, people who are vampires, people who love vampires, and people who wish they were vampires so they make vampire avatars.

You will find people who have absolutely no bearing on the art community, but post as feverishly as though there was a little publisher standing behind them, yelling, “Churn out more material! The kiln of the entire artistic community simply will not fire without your input! We need more shit faster!” And they don’t care that shitting out some half-assed blurry snapshot of their cat isn’t considered art, because to them, it IS art just so long as they have some bullshit reason to contrive and justify its submission to the corporate-owned art community they wish to be a part of.

As you have already figured out for yourselves, this is a website by adults, for kids. It purports to support creativity and self-development by selling fake, digital garments and accessories, backed by MTV/Viacom finance and style-marketing keywords, which can be bought with the fictitious gold either purchased with a parent’s credit-card or “earned” through the submission (spamming) of a picture of one’s eyeball, or a drawing of their own avatars, or copying-and-pasting Wikipedia entries (a known source of bullshit). Like real-life rap music and Britney Spears from the year 2000, people are now digitizing an existence in which they make art for Pepsi commercials and help to propagate the style and standard set by the “manufacturer of cool” where ten-year-old styles and attitudes that, in the circles that once pioneered them, stagnated within months of their inceptions but carry on through marketing, online advertising and PR. Subversive cultural dynamics submitted by the undercover hired geeks of Viacom keep the tensions alive and convince children that signing their identities away to a multinational corporation is how to rebel against mom and dad, and their vicious ADD medications. Paid strangers keep this shit alive, not regular people. MTV’s future and their ability to control ours depends on it.
We will see you next Friday when local media mogul Billy B will present his continuing investigation into the world’s most unprecedented cheapening of everyday reality. He’s looking into the bastardization of artistic standards and practices in their entirety as part of his investigation into the seedy microcosm mocking our very existence in all its capacity to do so by using us against our nonintellectual selves. We’ll report to you next week from inside the hellish introspective reality of Gaia Online.

This is all we are, in a nutshell, and all we’ll ever be. Tune out, jack in.

Surfin' USA

Our right to privacy extends only as far as our ability to protect it since technological advancement and the government have joined hands against us. The right to privacy will be as void for humanity as the right to a fair trial was to the Guantanamo Bay detainees. We’re basically doomed to an existence carried out under the filtration of the all-seeing eyes behind the various agencies every ISP node is fed into via the NSA supercomputer. All information is monitored, all the time, regardless of how you choose to protect your ‘physical data’. This is not just possible. It is more than probable, considering the unsupervised structure of our the internet everyone knows and understands (or doesn’t understand) today. No one escapes it

Until now!

Now introducing, from ElfWax Research & Labratories, the Modern-Day Information Doomwave SURFIN’ SET!

Our set includes:

  • -1 supersurfin’ keyboard that uses lasers instead of keys. Now you can surf the net like the 1337 hack proz0r5 do – with an unwarranted sense of entitlement. Act as though you’re experienced by dealing with something sensitive like key information by using equipment which can’t be fingerprinted. Catch the wave AND get away with it!*
  • -A Hand-Held Hate Speaker with a backlit clock. This 4-inch radio is armed with 400+ hours of recorded religious lecture by various extremist groups and terrorits. Also, hear the Beach Boys as you’ve never heard them before!
  • -1 vacuum-packed hard drive containing a super computer virus that actually turns your computer’s insides into liquid shit. Using TNTech brand research and advancements in pyrotechnics technology, you can ensure that all data within a 24-block radius is destroyed permanently with a high-profile electromagnetic pulse emitted by forcing a power surge through your home’s own electrical system.**
  • -A single-use flash-drive bullet which can be safely (but assertively) put to your throat and discharged using a GUI (graphical user interface) to send a digital signal to the USB drive, which plunges the hot metal deep into your brain stem. When uncle sam is listening to your muffled cries through your LAN connection AND from outside the door to your back porch, let them know you just went out in style, the American way!***

*You will not get away with it
**subsequent chemotherapy bills are the sole responsibility of the consumer, but it doesn’t matter anyway because your ass belongs to Uncle Sam (oh shit they control the after-life, too!) now get down on your knees and pray for the Sun God to blow up the Sun.
***All of our bullets are made in China and may not contain actual lead or any other hard material, and may dissolve in humidity, becoming a mild toxin poisonous to infants.

Chapter 1: The Mission

   On 12 April, 2025, The former North Atlantic Treaty Organization officialy repurposed their intials to become the current North Atlantic Tactical Organization. This made the organization an independent entity, controlling the entire Western hemisphere’s armed forces. NATO operated under UN order only. Once an attempt at a moderating peace assembly, The UN became more of a meeting grounds for grievances with MexiCanAmerica, at best. MexiCanAmerica’s representation at the UN permits them overwhelming voting and vetoing powers, and most of their actions are forever held up simply because enough western countries always vote with MexiCanAmerica.
   Former American, MexiCanAmerican, and now NATO special forces officer Liutenant Hugh Lombart thought he had seen it all. He was in an invisible unnamed military force of just more than a thousand. The force was comprised of many nationalities from all parts of the western world. Each soldier had received ‘offers’ to join in the mail, and ordered to assemble on Tangier Island in the Chesapeake bay, on the very day NATO changed its name. This was their first assembly.
   Hugh was middle-aged and had indeed seen more than his fair share of the worst scenes the world had to offer, during his long military career. And he knew, more than anyone, that the more power his boss had, the worse his missions would be. But he was really interested if MexiCanAmerica really had become as powerful as he thought.
   Hugh shuffled through the crowd of commandoes to the point where they were each to individually receive instructions, one by one, and through a computer prompt. The order had specified a house on the southernmost peninsula. A narrow strip of sand, only wide enough for 2 men to pass, battered on both sides for 100 yards stood between Hugh and the only computer terminal on Tangier Island. Yet it was full of commandos, fully geared and often just walking to their knees in water to get by. What a ridiculous fucking scene, Hugh thought as he swam his way around it with ease. He stepped on shore expertly at the very front of the line.
   “Hey, mind if I go ahead? My wife is pregnant, I want to go call her,” Hugh said completely unconvincingly.
   “Well, you did just totally submerge yourself in water right before a mission, so I believe you. Go ahead,” the stranger said. “I’m in no hurry.”
  The old Jedi mind trick. As the soldier before him left the small brick, windowless building, Hugh entered with a little more precaution than he usually would have in such a situation. There was one glaring white LED light bulb at the center of the fragile looking roof. On the opposite wall, Hugh saw a bundle of wires coming out of a hole that was maybe too large, and leading up to a flat screen in front of him. He closed the door behind him, per orders. Large letters printed “NATO” clearly and boldly. The Cray company had exploded in the past decade due to the massive restructuring of the Internet. Supercomputers were in huge demand, and Cray was happy to grow. Hugh touched the screen and a prompt told him to insert his International ID Card and provided an arrow pointing to the card slot. He inserted his ID card, and instantly an obviously pleased face appeared.
 “Hello Hugh, you can call me Nate. You will be going on a mission different from all my other soldiers, as I have selected you as the best. It’s the most important one of all, but I am sure if anyone can do it, you can.” the strange wheeling voice said. It wasn’t a totally unidentifiable strain of English Hugh had never heard before.
 “What do you mean if it can be done?” Hugh proposed.
 “Oh it will be done, whether you do it or not, but I know you will follow your orders regardless. You are to go to Washington D.C. and get further orders from the most powerful entity in the world.” Nate replied.
 “Who is that, the president?” exclaimed Hugh, following with a burst of laughter. The face paused for a second.
 “You will find out otherwise. You will be the first to, actually. I placed the address of your destination in the memory on your ID card. You must arrive there sometime within the next week. I have taken all precautions to keep the identities of the members of my service incognito, but I cannot foresee everything.” Indeed he had done well, a nuclear weapon could have gone off on Tangier Island that day, and no one would have ever noticed saved the crowd of soldiers and perhaps the face on the screen. With that, the NATO logo returned, and Hugh left the hut, and Tangier Island. He rather enjoyed walking through the ghost town that was Tangier that night, content to stay on that island and wonder about the strange mystery.
“Am I really the best soldier? What are they going to do with me?” and a fear came over him, for this was likely, from the start, to be the worst mission he’d ever been on.

Bigfoot the Martian

New analysis of Mars rover imagery by the college-educated geniuses at NASA has revealed stunning new proof of life on Mars. The mysterious nature of the creature, as it looks back at the rover with its strange gait and human-like curiosity makes it 100% sure to Nasanauts that it is indeed Bigfoot. Could he be investigating the monuments of Cydonia? This much is true: Bigfoot must be much more clever than we are. The Bigfoot have made it to Mars, and probably have gotten as far as Jupiter, which begs the question: Jupitorians are definitely Bigfoot. Somehow they have overcome all physical limitations through some sort of “Mind Over Matter.” Next time you see Bigfoot disappear behind some trees, do not follow him, or you may end up walking out from a cave on Mars, and hell, if you don’t die instantly from the life-forbidding conditions, Bigfoot may kill you. That would make you the 3rd person to ever have been eaten by Bigfoot. Thank you for visiting Elf Wax, your Marinoia Depot.