The Internet Tetralogy

I. The Origin of Humanity

Those that survived the impact of the Primordial Burst had began to prosper throughout the world known as Earth. These enduring individuals would be first labeled as "Neanderthals", but later Humans. These individuals dared not remember the sight of the Primordial Burst, nor the sound of the Primordial Burst as it first erupted like a volcano in the skies above them. They kept to their stone wheels, their bronze swords and their silver currency; Yet they could not seem to escape the memories of the Primordial Burst. Keep in mind that they were quite a substandard group of individuals, as they could only refer to the Primordial Burst simply as “The Big Bang.”

Years passed as the "Neanderthals" slowly evolved into more civilized individuals. They developed an advanced version of their simple language. Instead of grunts and shrieks, they used unique sound frequencies and labeled them as words, phrases, and sentences. One family of "Neanderthals" in particular, whom I had labeled as the “Marks Family,” had successfully civilized their entire community and became well-adapted into their art of “Neanderthallogy.” I watched the Marks Family from afar, hidden in the shadows, as they conducted their regular irregularities and irregular regularities as daily routines.

“I will have the à la carte, thank you.” Father Marks said as he nodded to the servant.

“As you wish, Mr. Marks. That will be two stones and one pebble, Mr. Marks.”

Father Marks gave the servant his geological aggregates as his two male children played in the wilderness nearby. These two male children showed potential, so I sought them out.

“Quit beating me up, Tyler!” Marcus said as his nose dripped crimson hemoglobin-stained essence through his nostrils after continuous sequences of trauma.

“Only after you tell me why the sky’s blue, idiot!” Tyler said as his closed hand began synthesizing impulses of trauma toward his younger brother, and then I revealed myself.

“I know the solvable answer to your unsolvable question, male child,”  I said, staring at the two male children as they converted their kinetic energy into potential energy and heat.

“Oh yeah? The sky’s blue because spirits up above drew the sky with their blue crayons. Why crayons? ‘Cause I said so.” Tyler said.

“You are incorrect, small male child. The blue sky you see now is blue because of light waves scattering through the atmosphere. The color blue travels slower than its fellow kin, and is caught and tamed into your eyes as a result. That is why you see the sky as blue.” I said.

“Woah...” Marcus said as he tugged away from Tyler’s grasp.

“Yeah, whatever. That makes sense, I guess. How’d you know that anyway?”

“With this.” I said as I revealed Humanity’s most creative, yet destructive instrument. The resolution of peace and the denunciation of war could be controlled with this very instrument. Science had sacrificed all of itself to create such a pinnacle of innovation. A pinnacle of innovation that would shatter all records of history, but in return: a new generation to come.

“What is that?” Marcus and Tyler said in unison.

“The Internet.”

The two male children reached out with their hands toward the Internet, as their entire bodies were engulfed by the Internet’s brilliant light radiating from its epicenter. From that point on, Marcus and Tyler Marks became the first "Neanderthals" to evolve into Humans.

II. Internet Time

I woke up at one in the afternoon today. I noticed the time when I glanced at the alarm clock. It was one in the afternoon. So I woke up and did the fix’ins. You know, brushed my teeth, showered, ate breakfast. The fix’ins. I’ve been doing the fix’ins every day for the past few months, so it’s starting to feel like some boring routine. There’s two hours left of school that I could possibly go to. Minus five minutes of driving, another five chilling by the locker, and another five texting my ex-girlfriend-now-friend. Her name was Elle. So…I guess that’s just one hour and forty-five for school. Time went forward, and I held on by its hand. I stared at the clock, and that one hour and forty-five minutes ended up dropping down to ten minutes. Keep in mind that I was voted “Most Responsible of the Year” three years ago. Then the front door opened. I heard it open: the twisting of the doorknob, the push from the arm, and the following footsteps. So…  I know for sure that the door opened, and it did as my brother Tyler walked in.

“Got the text. Dad just died. I’m going to the club, so stay here, Marcus.” he said.

The door closed. I was alone again. I was ready to cry, but random YouTube videos of cats on my phone kept me company. They kept me company for a long time.

III. The Intermittent Age

Sooner or later, there’s gonna be a corpse lying in the middle of the dance floor. I know this; you know this. We both know this. The two of us will just be minding our own business, dancing and drinking. Stupid shit like that, see? Except I don’t dance or drink, so it’s more on you than me. I’ll just be chilling in the booth on my phone looking at the terrible life choices my friends made on Instagram. Oh and by the way, I don’t think we’ve ever met until just now, as we stared at each other the moment we got into the club. The name’s Tyler.

“I’m Karen, you know… from Facebook?” you say with a snarky attitude; a snarky attitude, with a personality flawed in so many ways that you spent your entire adolescence believing that complaining about your problems was the best idea ever. That’s what I assume what a snarky attitude sounds like, actually that’s what I assume what all girls named Karen sound like. Just so you know, I hate your name, Karen. You also look hideous outside Facebook.

The lights get dimmed as you abruptly end your grinding session with a young high-schooler wearing thick-rimmed glasses with the actual tape coverage between the frames like you see in all those movies. The disco ball appears out of nowhere, too, and everyone starts firing their heat-seeking missiles toward nearby people to slow dance with. Hell, I’ve been in this club at least ten times now, and I still have no idea how the disco ball does that. Magic, maybe?

“Dance with me!” You say with a snarky attitude as you pull my arm from the booth. I yawn as I put away my phone and end up holding your waist with one hand. ‘Why one hand, Tyler,’ you might ask? I’d tell you, but someone just collapsed on the dance floor.

IV. The Death of Ethernet

I. Netiquette

The club-dancers stopped dancing at the sight of the corpse. They stopped their jives, their grinds, and their twists at the sight of the corpse. Tyler loosened his grip around Karen’s waist as he stared toward the corpse along with the club-dancers. Tyler started to leave the club.

“What are you doing?” Karen said as she grabbed hold of Tyler’s arm.

“Let go of me, Karen. I gotta go home.” Tyler said.
“For what?”

“For my brother. He needs me, you know. Our dad died earlier toda-”

“Can’t you just stay with me for one night? Pretty please?”

“Karen, there’s a dead body behind you. I ain’t fucking staying with you,” Tyler said before pulling his arm away from Karen.

“You weren’t this mean to me when we were online, Tyler!” Karen stomped the ground.

“I thought you were hotter based on those Facebook photos. I was sadly mistaken.”

“Wow. You’re being a complete ‘sasshole’, Tyler. Just leave before someone else dies.”

“Would that be you?” Tyler said as he cracked his knuckles.

A young high-schooler who wore thick-rimmed glasses with the actual tape coverage that people saw like in the movies, took out his phone and started video recording Tyler and Karen’s conversation. His near-sighted eyes couldn’t stop staring at the screen as Tyler and Karen’s conversation turned into a violent fistfight. A corpse of a woman gently fell onto the dance floor.

II. Free Information

Marcus was sitting on the couch at home watching YouTube videos about cats on his phone. He knew that his father wouldn’t come back and give him candy anymore, but as long as there was a video of a cat playing a keyboard, Marcus knew he would still have a glimpse of happiness. Someone knocked at the front door. The vicious knocks grew more intense with each and every knock. Marcus heard the knocking as he swore to himself that he heard the knocking.

“Open the door.” the voice from the other side said.

“Who’s there?” Marcus said.

“Just open the fucking door.”

It was Tyler. Marcus got off the couch and opened the front door for him. Tyler wandered the house limping with bruises all over his face and body. Marcus spent fifteen seconds of his time staring at Tyler before spending fifteen minutes on a documentary about how hula hoops were made.

“Hey, Marcus. Google how to get rid of bruises and I’ll give you a dollar.” Tyler said.

“What’s in it for me?”

“A dollar. Didn’t you hear, kid?”

“Oh.”

Marcus searched the answer of getting rid of bruises, selected the article that caught his attention, and ended up making Tyler look good as new in less than five minutes.

“So, aren’t you going to ask how I got those bruises, Marcus?”

“Uh, how did you get those bruises, Tyler?”

“Don’t ask.”

III. Threads

Marcus brushed his teeth, showered, and ate breakfast again like yesterday and the day before. He had finished the cycle of the fix’ins for the day until he mechanically does so again for the next. Tyler ended up not sleeping last night because of what happened last night. He kept to himself in his room like a recluse spider as he scrolled through Karen’s Facebook page, or what was left of her Facebook page. He drank his coffee as hundreds of people mourned her loss by posting messages and videos relating to Karen. The coffee tasted black and bitter, but the terrible taste didn’t stop Tyler from realizing that Karen’s gone forever. The Facebook page Tyler stared at wasn’t Karen’s Facebook page anymore, but just a Facebook page with Karen’s name on it. So, Tyler threw away his cup of coffee and went downstairs.

Marcus and Tyler ended up sitting on the couch watching Netflix on TV instead of watching actual TV. The two watched an old cartoon series that aired in the ‘90s.

“Only ‘90s kids will get that reference,” Marcus said as he texted his ex-girlfriend.

“You got that right, Marcus,” Tyler said as he looked through his Instagram feed.

“You remember Elle, Tyler?” Marcus said.

“U-R-Elle? Your ex, right? She texting you?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s she saying?”

“She says that she’s gonna move out of the country. She won’t see me ever again.”

“Don’t you have Skype with her?” Tyler said.

“Oh, yeah... That reminds me, Auntie called. Dad’s funeral is Sunday.”

“That’s right,” Tyler said. He kept his blank stare toward the TV.

IV. Disconnection

It was a warm Sunday morning when the funeral took place. Butterflies of many colors and sizes wandered the skies, as the wind briskly blew among the Marks family adorned in black. It was in the backyard of the Marks family household. Tyler and Marcus stared at the coffin lowering down into earth. The two remembered when they used to play in the backyard. The two remembered the backyard as simply a backyard back then, but now it’s a graveyard.

Tyler and Marcus stared up at the blue skies. There was a huge cloud that casually strolled by the funeral. Somehow, it grabbed everyone’s attention. Tyler took a picture of the huge cloud and put it on Facebook while Marcus recorded a video out of it. The two weren’t attending a funeral anymore, but a quick show. Everyone left the funeral like the cloud.

“Hey, Marcus.” Tyler said.

“Yeah?”

“What would Mom tell us if she was here mourning for Dad?”

“She’d probably tell us to stop using the Internet so much,” Marcus said.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. She always did say we were like flies stuck on a web.”

“So... what are we going to do now, Tyler?”

“Don’t worry about it, Marcus. ”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I’ll take care of you from now on. That’s what it means.” Tyler said.

“What happens if you can’t?” Marcus said.

“Then you’re on your own… Anyways, let’s go to the park. The cloud went over there.”

“Alright.”