This morning I was checking my email when up comes this McDonalds ad. Great, another pop up I don't give a shit about. I circle around looking for the "x" to close it and it's nowhere to be found. Sometimes these crafty fuckers locate it in the nether regions of the page. Not this time. The aberration covers the timestamps but I'll be damned if I'm going to click on it, so I go through to the next page...
And it's back! I'm being followed! Aggressive little bugger, isn't it? Again, no close button so now I'm pissed. They're going to make me do it, aren't they? They're going to make me follow the link! Arrggghh!
Never have I wanted to punch a clown so bad.
Is that fucker winking at me???
OMG he is!!!This is bad, isn't it? Internet advertising has reached a whole new level of obnoxious imposition. They're not even pretending to care about my free will and ability to choose whether I want to participate in their marketing campaigns. The gloves are off, it's in my face and there's not a damned thing I can do about it. Yes, I clicked around their site, if only to check out the fat and sodium content of their "nutritious" meals. They still sell the same old shit that I no longer eat because I really don't hate my body that much. So they got my page views. Does that mean they won?
Rest assured, it's downhill from here. I envision the day, in the not-so-distant future, when I'll be inundated with ten pop up ads on the same page, none of which will have a close button. I'll waste precious Internet minutes - which translates into days in real life - clicking through them in an effort to clear the clutter. There'll be video (more than there is now) and ten different spokespersons will clamour for my attention. The babble will drive me insane and I'll become a resentful consumer: one who's forced to digest irrelevant material pushed by increasingly aggressive marketers.
To this I say damn you Yahoo Mail. Damn you for not imposing limits, damn you for not protecting my interests and damn you for opening the floodgates and letting the vultures in.
God help my weary eyeballs.
