It is becoming more difficult to communicate with you on the web. I am overwhelmed by it all, all your shouting, your constant diatribe, your litany of abuse, the out-pouring of bile from fat lips. I try to put it behind me but invariably I find myself withdrawing to the safety of a video of a cat playing the piano or a dog roller skating wearing pimper's shades and a diamond ring in his nose. I try being reasonable but reasonable no longer cuts it online. Measured is a chancer's game. And each and every opinion carries with it the risk of being attacked by bug eyed, head spinning caricatures of people only pretending to be people and curdle inside. I withdraw to a safe distance, till only the spectacle is left. The three minute clip of the woman with the blue hair or the man with no hair screaming obscenities at the man with a full head of hair who just died violently on a plot of land covered by a square of taupaulin in front of a crowd of people for seemingly no reason at all who then all proceed to scream and chitter and vibrate with such vehemence it feels like my computer is about to break and release poison into my brain by noxious hate. But why do you do it? Are you so sure that this is the only way to engage with me? To convince me? To touch base with me? We used to be able to talk to each other, you and I, to reason, to pick sense from our respective nonsense, to get a working handle on the world around us. Now that forebearance is gone, filled instead with something dark and sinister. You shout, you say, because it's the surest way to get my attention and let the world know you're serious. Not Joking. I'm sorry bro. But when you start shouting, I can't help it. I stop listening.