Slashdot Mirror
Web Trolls Winning As Incivility Increases
mdsolar sends this story from the NY Times:
The Internet may be losing the war against trolls. At the very least, it isn't winning. And unless social networks, media sites and governments come up with some innovative way of defeating online troublemakers, the digital world will never be free of the trolls' collective sway. That's the dismal judgment of the handful of scholars who study the broad category of online incivility known as trolling, a problem whose scope is not clear, but whose victims keep mounting. "As long as the Internet keeps operating according to a click-based economy, trolls will maybe not win, but they will always be present," said Whitney Phillips, a lecturer at Humboldt State University and the author of This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, a forthcoming book about her years of studying bad behavior online. "The faster that the whole media system goes, the more trolls have a foothold to stand on. They are perfectly calibrated to exploit the way media is disseminated these days."
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
-----------
Ah, the turning point in my life. I remember it clearly. It all started on September 7, 2001.
I was fiddling around on my computer and visiting various news websites, as I often did. Eventually, I stumbled across an advertisement that looked interesting, so I clicked it. A popup from some antivirus program I didn't know I had made me realize that I had made a grave mistake. I may not have known much about computers, but I knew that that wasn't normal; it was malware.
"Alright," I muttered. "This is no problem. I'll just use some antivirus tools to get rid of the virus." I said. But I was horribly, horribly wrong. The virus was unstoppable, and even the most advanced antivirus software could not remove it. Even completely wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system did not remove it! I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration, but eventually calmed down. "It's alright. I'll just take it to a PC repair shop!"
So, I drove to a nearby PC repair shop that claimed it only hired experienced professionals. Once I entered the expertly-crafted building, four kind gentlemen greeted me; I described my problem to them, they nodded their heads, and they sent me off with a smile on their faces. I had a good feeling about their abilities at the time. I drove back home feeling happy, knowing that my computer was in the hands of professionals. How wrong I was...
On September 11, I received a call from the repair shop. I went to answer the phone, and when I did, all I heard from the other end was unintelligible screaming, and someone weeping. Then, finally, I heard someone whisper, "Come pick up your computer." After that, he hung up. "Why did he sound like a pathetic animal that knows its death is at hand?" I thought. But I concluded that it was probably nothing more than a new hip way for repair shops to tell their customers that the repairs are finished.
I drove to the repair shop once again, eager to pick up my computer. I entered the building, and immediately noticed that it looked completely different from its former self; blood was splattered everywhere, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. Random objects were scattered about. I began looking for my computer, and spotted one of the repair guys in the middle of the room, huddled up in the fetal position. I inexplicably vomited soon after spotting him. Then, I ran up to him, shook him around, and screamed, "Where is it!? Where is my computer!?"
The man looked at me with tears in his eyes, and started explaining exactly what happened. He told me that the virus was so monstrous that nothing they could do would fix it; even reinstalling the OS did not work. He also said it had the ability to infect computers around it. He went on to explain how one of his employees committed suicide due to the shame he felt for not being able to remove the virus. What became of the other two? Apparently, they went completely insane, hijacked two planes, and flew the planes into some famous buildings. After his explanation was over, and after he pointed out the location of my computer, I knew why I had vomited; this man was exerting an aura of worthlessness so powerful that it was capable of overwhelming anyone. His worthlessness was such that he poisoned everything around him, causing various negative effects on those within his immediate vicinity. I vomited again.
I glared at the man, who was now crawling out of the building and weeping. I watched as he crawled all the way out into the road, and spotted an incoming semi-truck. Even though the driver clearly saw the man in the middle of the lane, he did not stop; after all, the man was so utterly worthless that you could tell just how devoid of meaning his existence was with a mere glance, so the driver probably felt the need to put that pitiful man out of his misery. The truck mercilessly collided with the worthless hunk of meat, and ended his disgusting existence. But even that was not enough to remove his toxic influence on everything around him; his body
-----------
Well, to begin, I'm just your average guy. But unlike your average guy, I once had everything anyone could ever want: a gorgeous wife, a beautiful two-story house, an adorable seven year old daughter, a stable job, and a nice salary. Basically, I was living the American dream. None of my needs or wants were left unfulfilled. The family always got along, and everything was perfect.
Until one day, that is. Following one of my routine doctor appointments, my doctor informed me that I had lung cancer and that I only had a few years to live at most. As you can imagine, I was shocked. Not just shocked; I could see all of my hopes and dreams being shattered right before my very eyes. Still, my doctor gave me hope by telling me that there was a chance, however slim, that Chemotherapy and various other things could help me. After speaking with my wife, I decided to receive the treatments.
All was not lost. I still had a perfect family that I could rely on and get emotional support from. I still had hope for the future. I'm a firm believer that you should make the best of things rather than wallow in depression. I had to press on: not just for my sake, but for the sake of my loved ones. But my strong resolve was soon shattered.
The family I thought I could count on betrayed me. My wife, whom I loved deeply, filed for a divorce. She said that she could not handle the emotional trauma of being with someone who had cancer. She apologized profusely, but no matter what I said, I could not change her mind. I screamed, I cried, and I begged her to rethink her decision, but it was all to no avail.
In my madness, I made all kinds of accusations. I said that she was cheating on me, that she never loved me, that she just married me for my money, and various other things. I soon learned, however, that a few of those were more than just baseless accusations. I began stalking her, going through all of her personal possessions, and trying uncover any secrets she may have been keeping. What I discovered horrified me: she had been cheating on me with another man for the past year. She must have been waiting for an opportune time to abandon me for this other man.
When confronted about her betrayal, she screamed at me, told me it was none of my business, told me that I was always a worthless husband, and told me that I was an abusive man. I soon discovered that there was absolutely nothing that I could do. My marriage was in shambles, and by this point, I was on the brink of suicide. The only thing keeping me going was my devotion to my precious daughter.
It wasn't long before I received news from my insurance company that they were getting rid of my coverage. They gave me multitudes of vague and bogus reasons, but anyone could figure out their true reason: they did not want to waste money on a dying man. Naturally, I planned to fight this with every fiber of my being, but I knew it would be a long, drawn out process.
In the span of a year, I went from a very happy man who had everything he wanted to a miserable shell of what I once was. I couldn't take it anymore. Despite the fact that I wanted to remain in this world for the sake of my daughter, I tried committing suicide four times. All four attempts failed. I needed something to take my misery, regret, and anger out on. First I began verbally abusing my daughter. It wasn't long before I began physically abusing her. Sometimes I did it with my bare hands, and other times I used various objects. Beating my daughter soon became my only pleasure. My life had spiraled out of control into a den of anguish, uncertainty, and madness.
That's when it happened: I found MyCleanPC. I downloaded it, scanned my computer, and had it fix all of my problems. MyCleanPC is outstanding! My computer is running faster than ever!
My wife's response? "MyCleanPC came through with flying colours where no one else could!"
My daughter was
-----------
Well, to begin, I'm just your average guy. But unlike your average guy, I once had everything anyone could ever want: a gorgeous wife, a beautiful two-story house, an adorable seven year old daughter, a stable job, and a nice salary. Basically, I was living the American dream. None of my needs or wants were left unfulfilled. The family always got along, and everything was perfect.
Until one day, that is. Following one of my routine doctor appointments, my doctor informed me that I had lung cancer and that I only had a few years to live at most. As you can imagine, I was shocked. Not just shocked; I could see all of my hopes and dreams being shattered right before my very eyes. Still, my doctor gave me hope by telling me that there was a chance, however slim, that Chemotherapy and various other things could help me. After speaking with my wife, I decided to receive the treatments.
All was not lost. I still had a perfect family that I could rely on and get emotional support from. I still had hope for the future. I'm a firm believer that you should make the best of things rather than wallow in depression. I had to press on: not just for my sake, but for the sake of my loved ones. But my strong resolve was soon shattered.
The family I thought I could count on betrayed me. My wife, whom I loved deeply, filed for a divorce. She said that she could not handle the emotional trauma of being with someone who had cancer. She apologized profusely, but no matter what I said, I could not change her mind. I screamed, I cried, and I begged her to rethink her decision, but it was all to no avail.
In my madness, I made all kinds of accusations. I said that she was cheating on me, that she never loved me, that she just married me for my money, and various other things. I soon learned, however, that a few of those were more than just baseless accusations. I began stalking her, going through all of her personal possessions, and trying uncover any secrets she may have been keeping. What I discovered horrified me: she had been cheating on me with another man for the past year. She must have been waiting for an opportune time to abandon me for this other man.
When confronted about her betrayal, she screamed at me, told me it was none of my business, told me that I was always a worthless husband, and told me that I was an abusive man. I soon discovered that there was absolutely nothing that I could do. My marriage was in shambles, and by this point, I was on the brink of suicide. The only thing keeping me going was my devotion to my precious daughter.
It wasn't long before I received news from my insurance company that they were getting rid of my coverage. They gave me multitudes of vague and bogus reasons, but anyone could figure out their true reason: they did not want to waste money on a dying man. Naturally, I planned to fight this with every fiber of my being, but I knew it would be a long, drawn out process.
In the span of a year, I went from a very happy man who had everything he wanted to a miserable shell of what I once was. I couldn't take it anymore. Despite the fact that I wanted to remain in this world for the sake of my daughter, I tried committing suicide four times. All four attempts failed. I needed something to take my misery, regret, and anger out on. First I began verbally abusing my daughter. It wasn't long before I began physically abusing her. Sometimes I did it with my bare hands, and other times I used various objects. Beating my daughter soon became my only pleasure. My life had spiraled out of control into a den of anguish, uncertainty, and madness.
That's when it happened: I found MyCleanPC. I downloaded it, scanned my computer, and had it fix all of my problems. MyCleanPC is outstanding! My computer is running faster than ever!
My wife's response? "MyCleanPC came through with flying colours where no one else could!"
My daughter was
-----------
Well, to begin, I'm just your average guy. But unlike your average guy, I once had everything anyone could ever want: a gorgeous wife, a beautiful two-story house, an adorable seven year old daughter, a stable job, and a nice salary. Basically, I was living the American dream. None of my needs or wants were left unfulfilled. The family always got along, and everything was perfect.
Until one day, that is. Following one of my routine doctor appointments, my doctor informed me that I had lung cancer and that I only had a few years to live at most. As you can imagine, I was shocked. Not just shocked; I could see all of my hopes and dreams being shattered right before my very eyes. Still, my doctor gave me hope by telling me that there was a chance, however slim, that Chemotherapy and various other things could help me. After speaking with my wife, I decided to receive the treatments.
All was not lost. I still had a perfect family that I could rely on and get emotional support from. I still had hope for the future. I'm a firm believer that you should make the best of things rather than wallow in depression. I had to press on: not just for my sake, but for the sake of my loved ones. But my strong resolve was soon shattered.
The family I thought I could count on betrayed me. My wife, whom I loved deeply, filed for a divorce. She said that she could not handle the emotional trauma of being with someone who had cancer. She apologized profusely, but no matter what I said, I could not change her mind. I screamed, I cried, and I begged her to rethink her decision, but it was all to no avail.
In my madness, I made all kinds of accusations. I said that she was cheating on me, that she never loved me, that she just married me for my money, and various other things. I soon learned, however, that a few of those were more than just baseless accusations. I began stalking her, going through all of her personal possessions, and trying uncover any secrets she may have been keeping. What I discovered horrified me: she had been cheating on me with another man for the past year. She must have been waiting for an opportune time to abandon me for this other man.
When confronted about her betrayal, she screamed at me, told me it was none of my business, told me that I was always a worthless husband, and told me that I was an abusive man. I soon discovered that there was absolutely nothing that I could do. My marriage was in shambles, and by this point, I was on the brink of suicide. The only thing keeping me going was my devotion to my precious daughter.
It wasn't long before I received news from my insurance company that they were getting rid of my coverage. They gave me multitudes of vague and bogus reasons, but anyone could figure out their true reason: they did not want to waste money on a dying man. Naturally, I planned to fight this with every fiber of my being, but I knew it would be a long, drawn out process.
In the span of a year, I went from a very happy man who had everything he wanted to a miserable shell of what I once was. I couldn't take it anymore. Despite the fact that I wanted to remain in this world for the sake of my daughter, I tried committing suicide four times. All four attempts failed. I needed something to take my misery, regret, and anger out on. First I began verbally abusing my daughter. It wasn't long before I began physically abusing her. Sometimes I did it with my bare hands, and other times I used various objects. Beating my daughter soon became my only pleasure. My life had spiraled out of control into a den of anguish, uncertainty, and madness.
That's when it happened: I found MyCleanPC. I downloaded it, scanned my computer, and had it fix all of my problems. MyCleanPC is outstanding! My computer is running faster than ever!
My wife's response? "MyCleanPC came through with flying colours where no one else could!"
My daughter was
-----------
Well, to begin, I'm just your average guy. But unlike your average guy, I once had everything anyone could ever want: a gorgeous wife, a beautiful two-story house, an adorable seven year old daughter, a stable job, and a nice salary. Basically, I was living the American dream. None of my needs or wants were left unfulfilled. The family always got along, and everything was perfect.
Until one day, that is. Following one of my routine doctor appointments, my doctor informed me that I had lung cancer and that I only had a few years to live at most. As you can imagine, I was shocked. Not just shocked; I could see all of my hopes and dreams being shattered right before my very eyes. Still, my doctor gave me hope by telling me that there was a chance, however slim, that Chemotherapy and various other things could help me. After speaking with my wife, I decided to receive the treatments.
All was not lost. I still had a perfect family that I could rely on and get emotional support from. I still had hope for the future. I'm a firm believer that you should make the best of things rather than wallow in depression. I had to press on: not just for my sake, but for the sake of my loved ones. But my strong resolve was soon shattered.
The family I thought I could count on betrayed me. My wife, whom I loved deeply, filed for a divorce. She said that she could not handle the emotional trauma of being with someone who had cancer. She apologized profusely, but no matter what I said, I could not change her mind. I screamed, I cried, and I begged her to rethink her decision, but it was all to no avail.
In my madness, I made all kinds of accusations. I said that she was cheating on me, that she never loved me, that she just married me for my money, and various other things. I soon learned, however, that a few of those were more than just baseless accusations. I began stalking her, going through all of her personal possessions, and trying uncover any secrets she may have been keeping. What I discovered horrified me: she had been cheating on me with another man for the past year. She must have been waiting for an opportune time to abandon me for this other man.
When confronted about her betrayal, she screamed at me, told me it was none of my business, told me that I was always a worthless husband, and told me that I was an abusive man. I soon discovered that there was absolutely nothing that I could do. My marriage was in shambles, and by this point, I was on the brink of suicide. The only thing keeping me going was my devotion to my precious daughter.
It wasn't long before I received news from my insurance company that they were getting rid of my coverage. They gave me multitudes of vague and bogus reasons, but anyone could figure out their true reason: they did not want to waste money on a dying man. Naturally, I planned to fight this with every fiber of my being, but I knew it would be a long, drawn out process.
In the span of a year, I went from a very happy man who had everything he wanted to a miserable shell of what I once was. I couldn't take it anymore. Despite the fact that I wanted to remain in this world for the sake of my daughter, I tried committing suicide four times. All four attempts failed. I needed something to take my misery, regret, and anger out on. First I began verbally abusing my daughter. It wasn't long before I began physically abusing her. Sometimes I did it with my bare hands, and other times I used various objects. Beating my daughter soon became my only pleasure. My life had spiraled out of control into a den of anguish, uncertainty, and madness.
That's when it happened: I found MyCleanPC. I downloaded it, scanned my computer, and had it fix all of my problems. MyCleanPC is outstanding! My computer is running faster than ever!
My wife's response? "MyCleanPC came through with flying colours where no one else could!"
My daughter was
-----------
Well, to begin, I'm just your average guy. But unlike your average guy, I once had everything anyone could ever want: a gorgeous wife, a beautiful two-story house, an adorable seven year old daughter, a stable job, and a nice salary. Basically, I was living the American dream. None of my needs or wants were left unfulfilled. The family always got along, and everything was perfect.
Until one day, that is. Following one of my routine doctor appointments, my doctor informed me that I had lung cancer and that I only had a few years to live at most. As you can imagine, I was shocked. Not just shocked; I could see all of my hopes and dreams being shattered right before my very eyes. Still, my doctor gave me hope by telling me that there was a chance, however slim, that Chemotherapy and various other things could help me. After speaking with my wife, I decided to receive the treatments.
All was not lost. I still had a perfect family that I could rely on and get emotional support from. I still had hope for the future. I'm a firm believer that you should make the best of things rather than wallow in depression. I had to press on: not just for my sake, but for the sake of my loved ones. But my strong resolve was soon shattered.
The family I thought I could count on betrayed me. My wife, whom I loved deeply, filed for a divorce. She said that she could not handle the emotional trauma of being with someone who had cancer. She apologized profusely, but no matter what I said, I could not change her mind. I screamed, I cried, and I begged her to rethink her decision, but it was all to no avail.
In my madness, I made all kinds of accusations. I said that she was cheating on me, that she never loved me, that she just married me for my money, and various other things. I soon learned, however, that a few of those were more than just baseless accusations. I began stalking her, going through all of her personal possessions, and trying uncover any secrets she may have been keeping. What I discovered horrified me: she had been cheating on me with another man for the past year. She must have been waiting for an opportune time to abandon me for this other man.
When confronted about her betrayal, she screamed at me, told me it was none of my business, told me that I was always a worthless husband, and told me that I was an abusive man. I soon discovered that there was absolutely nothing that I could do. My marriage was in shambles, and by this point, I was on the brink of suicide. The only thing keeping me going was my devotion to my precious daughter.
It wasn't long before I received news from my insurance company that they were getting rid of my coverage. They gave me multitudes of vague and bogus reasons, but anyone could figure out their true reason: they did not want to waste money on a dying man. Naturally, I planned to fight this with every fiber of my being, but I knew it would be a long, drawn out process.
In the span of a year, I went from a very happy man who had everything he wanted to a miserable shell of what I once was. I couldn't take it anymore. Despite the fact that I wanted to remain in this world for the sake of my daughter, I tried committing suicide four times. All four attempts failed. I needed something to take my misery, regret, and anger out on. First I began verbally abusing my daughter. It wasn't long before I began physically abusing her. Sometimes I did it with my bare hands, and other times I used various objects. Beating my daughter soon became my only pleasure. My life had spiraled out of control into a den of anguish, uncertainty, and madness.
That's when it happened: I found MyCleanPC. I downloaded it, scanned my computer, and had it fix all of my problems. MyCleanPC is outstanding! My computer is running faster than ever!
My wife's response? "MyCleanPC came through with flying colours where no one else could!"
My daughter was
-----------
Well, to begin, I'm just your average guy. But unlike your average guy, I once had everything anyone could ever want: a gorgeous wife, a beautiful two-story house, an adorable seven year old daughter, a stable job, and a nice salary. Basically, I was living the American dream. None of my needs or wants were left unfulfilled. The family always got along, and everything was perfect.
Until one day, that is. Following one of my routine doctor appointments, my doctor informed me that I had lung cancer and that I only had a few years to live at most. As you can imagine, I was shocked. Not just shocked; I could see all of my hopes and dreams being shattered right before my very eyes. Still, my doctor gave me hope by telling me that there was a chance, however slim, that Chemotherapy and various other things could help me. After speaking with my wife, I decided to receive the treatments.
All was not lost. I still had a perfect family that I could rely on and get emotional support from. I still had hope for the future. I'm a firm believer that you should make the best of things rather than wallow in depression. I had to press on: not just for my sake, but for the sake of my loved ones. But my strong resolve was soon shattered.
The family I thought I could count on betrayed me. My wife, whom I loved deeply, filed for a divorce. She said that she could not handle the emotional trauma of being with someone who had cancer. She apologized profusely, but no matter what I said, I could not change her mind. I screamed, I cried, and I begged her to rethink her decision, but it was all to no avail.
In my madness, I made all kinds of accusations. I said that she was cheating on me, that she never loved me, that she just married me for my money, and various other things. I soon learned, however, that a few of those were more than just baseless accusations. I began stalking her, going through all of her personal possessions, and trying uncover any secrets she may have been keeping. What I discovered horrified me: she had been cheating on me with another man for the past year. She must have been waiting for an opportune time to abandon me for this other man.
When confronted about her betrayal, she screamed at me, told me it was none of my business, told me that I was always a worthless husband, and told me that I was an abusive man. I soon discovered that there was absolutely nothing that I could do. My marriage was in shambles, and by this point, I was on the brink of suicide. The only thing keeping me going was my devotion to my precious daughter.
It wasn't long before I received news from my insurance company that they were getting rid of my coverage. They gave me multitudes of vague and bogus reasons, but anyone could figure out their true reason: they did not want to waste money on a dying man. Naturally, I planned to fight this with every fiber of my being, but I knew it would be a long, drawn out process.
In the span of a year, I went from a very happy man who had everything he wanted to a miserable shell of what I once was. I couldn't take it anymore. Despite the fact that I wanted to remain in this world for the sake of my daughter, I tried committing suicide four times. All four attempts failed. I needed something to take my misery, regret, and anger out on. First I began verbally abusing my daughter. It wasn't long before I began physically abusing her. Sometimes I did it with my bare hands, and other times I used various objects. Beating my daughter soon became my only pleasure. My life had spiraled out of control into a den of anguish, uncertainty, and madness.
That's when it happened: I found MyCleanPC. I downloaded it, scanned my computer, and had it fix all of my problems. MyCleanPC is outstanding! My computer is running faster than ever!
My wife's response? "MyCleanPC came through with flying colours where no one else could!"
My daughter was