Migor is PLEASED that the creation of the Internet, son of the electronic-typewriter device, daughter of Zigor has been created.
Migor will fly in his mighty spaceship to earth one day to vaporize all of the men on your planet and take the mighty women back to his home planet, whose name you cannot know.
You are all the property of Migor. He will eat your souls if he so desires or cook them in the mighty george forman grill he has installed in his spaceship. Or he will ask one of his servents to cook you because Migor will devour you becuase Migor OWNS you.
As property you cannot talk you are fooling yourself into a false sense of complacency. The communitcation you use on the internet is nothing more then Migor's Son, Zigor, suffering from multiple personality disorders and your voices are the ones that sit inside his head.
This matters not to Migor. He has disowned Zigor, the 10th born of a thousand childern of Migor and his wife Zigor. Gigor still pays for Zigor's rent and she lets him use her Shell gasolene credit card because Zigor has yet to get a job after finishing college.
I was a roomate of Zigor. This is how I met Migor. I have a job with him now, as his voice box instead of the voice box of Zigor because I told him to stop putting words in my mouth.
Now I live in a bunker in the Arizona desert. I am covered in honey and the stings of a thousand honey-bees surround me. But I am saved thanks to the compassion of Migor.
If you are lucky, Migor will turn you into a duck.