If I controlled the Internet | Rives

Translator: Reviewer: Daban Q. Jaff

I wrote this poem after hearing a pretty well known actress

tell a very well known interviewer on television,

"I'm really getting into the Internet lately.

I just wish it were more organized."

So ...

(Laughter)

If I controlled the Internet,

you could auction your broken heart on eBay.

Take the money; go to Amazon;

buy a phonebook for a country you've never been to -- call folks at random

until you find someone who flirts really well in a foreign language.

(Laughter)

If I were in charge of the Internet,

you could Mapquest your lover's mood swings.

Hang left at cranky, right at preoccupied,

U-turn on silent treatment,

all the way back to tongue kissing and good lovin'.

You could navigate and understand every emotional intersection.

Some days, I'm as shallow as a baking pan,

but I still stretch miles in all directions.

If I owned the Internet, Napster, Monster and Friendster.com

would be one big website.

That way you could listen to cool music

while you pretend to look for a job

and you're really just chattin' with your pals.

(Laughter)

Heck, if I ran the Web, you could email dead people.

(Laughter)

They would not email you back

(Laughter) --

but you'd get an automated reply.

(Laughter)

Their name in your inbox

(Laughter) --

it's all you wanted anyway.

And a message saying, "Hey, it's me. I miss you.

(Laughter)

Listen, you'll see being dead is dandy.

Now you go back to raising kids and waging peace and craving candy."

If I designed the Internet, childhood.com would be a loop

of a boy in an orchard, with a ski pole for a sword,

trashcan lid for a shield, shouting, "I am the emperor of oranges.

I am the emperor of oranges. I am the emperor of oranges."

Now follow me, OK?

(Laughter)

Grandma.com would be a recipe for biscuits and spit-bath instructions.

One, two, three.

That links with hotdiggitydog.com.

That is my grandfather.

They take you to gruff-ex-cop-on-his-fourth-marriage.dad.

He forms an attachment to

kind-of-ditzy-but-still-sends-ginger-snaps-for-Christmas.mom,

who downloads the boy in the orchard, the emperor of oranges,

who grows up to be me --

the guy who usually goes too far.

So if I were emperor of the Internet,

I guess I'd still be mortal, huh?

But at that point, I would probably

already have the lowest possible mortgage

and the most enlarged possible penis

(Laughter) --

so I would outlaw spam on my first day in office.

I wouldn't need it.

I'd be like some kind of Internet genius, and me,

I'd like to upgrade to deity and maybe just like that --

pop! -- I'd go wireless.

(Laughter)

Huh? Maybe Google would hire this.

I could zip through your servers and firewalls like a virus

until the World Wide Web is as wise, as wild and as organized

as I think a modern-day miracle/oracle can get, but, ooh-eee,

you want to bet just how whack and un-PC

your Mac or PC is going to be when I'm rocking

hot-shit-hot-shot-god.net?

I guess it's just like life.

It is not a question of if you can --

it's: do ya?

We can interfere with the interface.

We can make "You've got Hallelujah" the national anthem of cyberspace

every lucky time we log on.

You don't say a prayer.

You don't write a psalm.

You don't chant an "om."

You send one blessed email to whomever you're thinking of

at dah-da-la-dat-da-dah-da-la-dat.com.

Thank you, TED.

(Applause)