I am a communist. Is it the duty of the Internet to be able to give us a pathway of words that help us understand Why Are You Here. Why is it we are obligated to dumb down communication to the bureaucratic level of the third grade. This my summer vacation. This is a dog. This is pornography. This is the Queen in a cowboy hat. Artificial intelligence is artificial. An Italian woman smiling. Les Demoiselles d’Avignon is a carving of naked women whose noses are firehoses. This is an ear the artist cut from his head. This is a dog (it’s a fox). This is a horse. Actually, it’s a merry-go-round. The Internet is already stupid. I’ve taught third-graders who can outwit it. The Internet already employs complete fictions when it appoints itself as censor of the world. I am supposedly born in three countries simultaneously. I have not published in 25 years (a lie). I am not a photographer (LA’s Flaunt Magazine). I have hustled the rich people of North Carolina. Duh. Then, you come to Appalachia. I am living in a cabin near Jump Off Rock, and I get around on a dirt bike. I only use a GoPro and not the silly cameras I supposedly have used for years. Why is it the Internet’s job to tell the world where my second ex-wife lives. Actual Reporters roam my high school’s halls. Did he go to school here. Yes, but he’s gay. Text is irrelevant. Photography is irrelevant. Art is irrelevant. This is a very unamused man sitting in a red chair. This is a lynching. The Internet is always wrong. Always.