When I was in high school, one of my favorite stoned conversation topics was space. As in big, black and outer. In an altered state, I tried my best to get my head around “what was beyond space but more space but didn’t space have to end at some point but if it ended where was the space that came beyond the space of space and if it kept going forever, how would anyone know if they’ve never been there” but the answer always failed to approach whatever orbit I was in at the time.

Now older and THC-less, I find myself suffering through a similar existential quandary involving cyberspace. Where the hell does all the crap go? Galaxies upon galaxies of failed dotcoms, abandoned web businesses, family photo albums, that email that told me I won the UK National Lottery-are they still hanging out on some celestial server, waiting to come around in 100 years and explode like a Supernova? Will groups of people in purple robes pray for the day when Web 1.0 will return and we’ll all go back to Usenet? Have all the newsgroup posts I typed in ’87 on that newfangled keyboard thing from my 20MB DOS-accessed computer co-mingled with last weeks’ online health insurance application in a black data hole?

I’m starting to getting creepy images of the movie Pleasantville.

Some say it started with the Big Bang for your Buck Theory– the idea that cyber-commerce exploded and the world began.

I just hope that all that cybercrap won’t lead to the dreaded Greenlaptop Effect– the cloying of the earth caused by too many Dell computers.

Now I know why I want to throttle the neo-pixie that sings “I am green today.”