Oh, boy, World Wide Web! You are 25! So young, yet so much happened to you already! You are like a fucking child rock star!
When you were born, I was still in my 20s; so were Madonna and Michael Jackson; Brad Pitt was 25 (he just turned 50 – the jury is still out on whether you are good at math or not). Now I run to you to roll time back and see people who witnessed your birth being young and alive – you keep them all and more inside your multitude of brains.
In only a quarter of a century that flew by with incredible acceleration you have spread yourself wide and deep. You became a source of memories, references, entertainment, political battles, nationalistic agendas, a wide range of freedom and "freedom" fights, and the supreme motherbitch of it all – communication. Oh, the connectivity of it!
Just like other immature tech moguls born in the eighties you strive for world domination without any care about what you have and will destroy on your way to that lofty goal. Just like them, you carelessly offer your services to those who uphold personal liberties and those who do whatever they can to extinguish them.
Talking about mixed emotions! On one hand, it seems that I cannot exist without you and I don't even want to remember how I managed, oh, so many things before you were born. Hey, you gave me this very outlet of self-expression! On the other hand, I think you are a source of some major-scale evil; you made everyone more stupid; you will accelerate further retardation of minds and degradation of humanity – all before you exhaust your own sources of existence (aka energy and servers' capacity) and bring life functions that rely on you to a grinding halt. So, as much as I need you, I still keep my Britannica; I still buy hardcover books, CDs, and Blurays; and I still write checks. I use you, but I don't trust you. If I look closely I see that you are a sneaky creep.
What can I wish you on your 25th birthday? What can you wish anyone on their 25th birthday? To become a mature and responsible adult. You go and figure out what it means. I still didn't.
The Frustrated CFO 