The inevitable future
I HAD TO run a few errands downtown, but I hesitated to go.
What if I ran into bloggers?
Ever since the total, irretrievable collapse of the Internet in a chaos of viruses, worms, spam, terrorism and busts by the FBI anti-porn squad, that archaic species of human had become a bigger street menace than mimes, Jehovah's Witnesses, or panhandlers ever were.
Ex-bloggers were everywhere in this high-foot-traffic neighborhood. As the capital of Silicon Valley, San Francisco had drawn members of the obsolescent tribe from all across the nation, to bolster the native population. In just the space of a few blocks, I saw Wonkette, Arianna Huffington, Mickey Kaus, Kathryn Cramer, both Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden, Andrew Sullivan, Tom Spurgeon, John Scalzi, Matt Drudge, and a dozen lookalike Slashdot habitués. All these decripit wretches were besieging and buttonholing any poor passerby who made the mistake of offering them the slightest sympathetic look or body language. Most of the victims were tourists, naturally.
Be afraid, be very afraid.