Over at Wired, they've updated us on the catastrophe that wasn't. The conficker worm. I have to admit that I am disappointed. I was expecting so much, but the thing is "dedicated to spam," apparently.
Capitalism has completely destroyed the profession of maniacal supervillian. Where's the panache? The insanity? The ambition? The wardrobe? Alan Moore foresaw this disaster back in 1987--having Hollis Mason lament the change in his book-within-a-book. Why didn't anyone listen to him? He knew what he was talking about! Moloch is the sign of our times!!
Spam?!? I mean, spam?!? This is what you used your powers for evil to create? It's like The Green Goblin using his little flying scooter to deliver menus for Chinese restaurants. Just disgraceful.
And it could be forgiven if you threatened to shut down servers with an avalanche of spam unless the UN declares you Eternal Emperor of Estonia or something. But no. You did it just to make bank.
Now all I have left is the dream that conficker is a diversionary scheme to keep the tech community from noticing you collecting the raw materials for your needlessly large weather-changing-machine. We can only hope.