I’m typing this on an old Underwood typewriter, but I decided to leave black and white typewritten sheets and enter into the dangerous world of the deepnet to do something a bit shady. The deepnet is the world filled with people that worship at the altar of Jimmy Saville and ping encrypted signals from online server to server in order to remain anonymous. No one that enters comes out quite the same.
Think of that episode of The Simpsons where Homer is blown by the gods onto the island of Aenea. He doesn’t know it’s an enchanted island. He just knows the nice lady (Circe) serves a mighty fine leg of pork. Yum. Yum. His men grow into porkers before his eyes, but Homer doesn’t quite catch on. Odysseus protects himself with the herb Moly and forces the enchantress to restore his men to human form. Homer isn’t quite sure. It smells so nice and one little taste won’t hurt. That’s the deepnet for you.
I’m going there to sell my book Lily Poole and to get more pledges. For those not in the know it’s a ghost story without a ghost. The kind of thing the deepnet specialises in. Follow this link if you dare. http://unbound.co.uk/books/lily-poole
The currency of the deepnet is the Bitcoin. They don’t really exist, but there are Bitcoin millionaires — usually they’re selling pharmaceutical products.
I’m trying to convert a tweet in which I get ‘favorited’ by one of my favourite writers, Alice Munro. She’s got that old-fashioned Nobel Prize for Literature to her name. I figure if I can convert and sell ‘favorited’ status that doesn’t really exist, into Bitcoins that don’t really exist, into pledges for my book that everybody’s ignoring as if doesn’t exist then I’m onto a winner. Homer did eventually get off that island. The gods were fickle but not too unkind. Yum, porkers. I’d give an arm and leg for pledges.