I Want a Stalker

The Internet has corrupted and destroyed much. Perhaps the most unfortunate consequence of our information superhighway is the loss of a once great art form. I’m of course referring to stalking.

In the days of old, being a stalker meant something. It took patience, skills and sometimes lock-picking. That was a time when privacy was a thing, something new generations who are born with a Facebook account will never know. Now anyone and everyone is a stalker. The definition has become loose, and the mere act of seeing someone’s public information online, even passively, qualifies you for the title.

“Oh my God. Jason just liked my profile pic.”

“He’s such a stalker, gah!”

No. He is not such a stalker. A creep, maybe. But what are you expecting posting pictures of your cleavage online?

Big Ones

Clayburn likes this.

Today’s stalkers, though, are lazy. Instead of using the tools of the Internet to improve their stalking, they become contented with them alone. “Eh…hiding in bushes is too much trouble. I’ll just ‘poke’ him.” So when I say I want a stalker, I’m not talking about someone with a passing interest, who only “stalks” me because they don’t have to get out of their chair to do it. I want a real stalker: obsessed, determined, resourceful. I have hope that somewhere out there are true stalkers, people living the Principle.

A quality stalker is tough to come by, but it’s a highly flattering thing to have. It means you’re important, to someone at least. And that’s a nice feeling. You’re so important that this person is going out of their way to be around you, to watch you, to learn more about you. Think about that. You. They’re picking you over the enormous amount of other options to preoccupy their time. You’re up against tough competition, what with the YouTube and all. A stalker could be watching videos of cat hijinks, and yet they’re watching you.

Personally, I wouldn’t just be honored, but I would greatly admire my stalker. I mean, they clearly have impeccable taste. To me, the most attractive thing anyone can do is want me.

Pee Wee Stalking Me

I didn't even have to say the secret word.

Don’t mistake this for me wanting a murderer or kidnapper. Part of being a superb stalker is knowing not to cross certain lines. Once you do, there can be no more stalking.

Unfortunately, being a nobody, it’s difficult lure a stalker, but I think I’m worthy. I’m not going to give up on my dream to be stalked. I’ll continue posting using my real name in all the crazy corners of the Net. I will keep my Facebook public. I’ll enable geolocation on my tweets. Your move, stalker.