Internet was ‘huge mistake’ and should be deleted

THE experiment that is the internet has proved to be a dreadful mistake for everyone involved and will be deleted as soon as possible. 

Following the rapid growth of fake news, cyber-bullying and all the other avalanches of absolute bullshit, it has been confirmed that the internet is beyond saving and will be confiscated to be safely disposed of.

Professor Henry Brubaker, of the Institute for Studies, said: “The internet was created with the noble vision of harmoniously connecting all of humanity. Yeah, right.

“Have we created a technological utopia, advancing social and culturing understanding through cyberspace? Or are we calling each other racist fascist communist feminazi scumbags while we stream clown porn?

“The whole thing was clearly a massive error, so it’s going. Users will be given a notice period of a month so they can finish publishing their Bergerac/Shoestring slash fiction or whatever other bollocks they use it for.

“People who rely on the web for work, such as teenage YouTube vloggers, will have to get proper fucking jobs.”

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'Preferring the remix makes me special'

By Tom Booker

YOU like that song? It’s a shame for you. So basic, so unenlightened. Because I, like all discerning people, vastly prefer the remix. 

That Franz Ferdinand song? Sure, it’s good, but the Daft Punk remix is far superior. You like the MIA track? But not the Bun B and Rich Boy version?

And my friend, you only think you have heard Gorillaz’s DARE. Until you have heard the DFA remix, you are nothing but a pilgrim seeking truth.

There is barely a song you can name that I do not have a superior, more discerning remix of. I have journeyed deep into track seven of the CD single – part two of a two-part digipak – and returned bearing treasure.

I have delved deep into music blogs. I have scoured eBay for the white label 12-inch. I have a library of mp3s whose makers do not even know have escaped to the wild.

I do all of this not because I am some pathetic completist. Mine is not the hoarding instinct of the collector. No, I do it because it makes me better than you.

When I hear the wrong remix, the unadorned single version that was played on the radio that you believe definitive, it literally hurts me. Every note is a scar on my soul.

It burns me, like the Thin White Duke remix of Royskopp’s What Else Is There? burns up dancefloors.

You haven’t heard it? That doesn’t surprise me.