Tuesday, July 6, 2010
You know what would be great? An internet feature where you could meld all your blog's anonymous comments into a single personality, and hit 'Create'! You'd finally get to meet Anonymous! All of a sudden your computer begins to jiggle. The monitor gets rubbery and wobbles like there's a baby kicking its way out. The screen bulges while limbs and digits pop into existence on the screen.
Suddenly, out of your computer climbs a full grown, gender-neutral person. A perfect amalgamation of the collective voice of your anonymous friends. You have brought the phantom to life! And now, you're standing face to face.
(For the purposes of this entry I'll pretend that anonymous people never visit my blog twice. Otherwise I'd be too afraid to continue. It's scary knowing that someone out there knows exactly who you are, is interacting with you directly, but is reserving a personal advantage for the entirety of your joust. It's like Ghost in the Graveyard against someone wearing night-vision goggles.)
Anonymous slowly stands and takes a moment to stretch, crack neck and back, and paw at eye boogers. It towers over you and would stand 12 feet tall if the ceiling allowed. Instead, its bent at the knees, waist, and neck; contorting a hulking frame into your sardine-can room.
"Who are you, already?" You ask pointedly, peering out from under your desk.
A tacitly amused smirk crosses it's face. "Nobody," comes the eventual reply.
"But why are you sometimes mean to me?" Your eyes pooling with tears.
"Because I sometimes hate you." Says the beast, pressing a gnarled face into yours. With that Anonymous picks you up by the ankles and drags you down the stairs, clunking your head with each step. You flail your arms but to no avail; out the door you go.
But something changes the moment Anonymous breaths fresh air. It sits cross-legged in the grassy front lawn, cradles you tenderly, and begins to stroke your hair. Rocking gently it sings you a lullaby. "I like your eyes...I like your nose...I like your hair, your feet, your face, your toes..."
After you overcome your initial shock at the sudden mood swing you begin to enjoy the sweet caresses of your personal ogre. Your head still hurts a little, but you like the cuddling. Anonymous continues to sing as you drift to sleep, "...in all the world, both up and down, you can look for miles around..." it's voice fades as you float to dreamland.
Thump. THUMP thump. THUMP. Someone is knocking at the door. No wait, it's a bunny pounding his foot on the ground! No, it's not a bunny. It's you. Your head is pounding on the ground!
Ow! Why is my head pounding on the ground? Hey! Let go of my hair! "Hey, let go of my hair," you find your voice as your dream dissolves abruptly. You open your eyes and you're staring up at Anonymous, who has your hair firmly in it's clutches and is slamming the back of your skull into the sidewalk.
"Stop! Ow! Stop!" You're fighting back, scrambling to get free. From all over the neighborhood friends hear your screams and rush to the rescue. As they arrive on the scene Anonymous melts into thin air, and they wonder aloud why you're pounding your head on the pavement. You explain about Anonymous and they smile knowingly. "Oh, yes. We've met. But don't worry, it's not real. Just listen to us. We're real, and we promise that if we need to punch you, you'll know where it's coming from." You heave a sigh and dab your gaping head wound, relieved to have been rescued from the phantom you created. The end.