Internettet er under vandet

Internettet lever under vandet. Send dette til enhver der stadig siger at alting er i skyen. Næsten hver eneste besked der krydser et hav, flyver ingen steder hen. Den rejser langs kabler der ligger på havbunden, i kulden og mørket, ved siden af fisk og krabber.

The internet lives underwater. Send this to anyone who still says everything is in the cloud. Nearly every message that crosses an ocean does not fly anywhere. It travels along cables lying on the sea floor, in the cold and the dark, beside fish and crabs.

Kablerne er tyndere end folk regner med. Langt ude på dybt vand, hvor næsten intet kan nå dem, er nogle ikke tykkere end en haveslange. Inde i dem er hår af glas, og lys løber langs det glas og bærer billeder, opkald, film og hvert eneste ord du sender til et andet kontinent.

The cables are thinner than people expect. Far out in deep water, where almost nothing can reach them, some are no thicker than a garden hose. Inside are hairs of glass, and light runs along that glass carrying photos, calls, films and every word you send to another continent.

Ting ødelægger dem. Ikke hajer, selvom en haj faktisk bed i et engang, og historien vil ikke dø. Mest er det fiskeredskaber og tunge ankre der slæber hen ad bunden. Det sker mere end hundrede gange om året, et sted i verden. Så sejler et skib ud, finder den brudte ledning, løfter den op fra havbunden, samler glasset igen og sænker det ned igen. Skyen, viser det sig, bliver søsyg.

Things break them. Not sharks, although a shark did chew one once and the story has never died. Mostly it is fishing gear and heavy anchors dragging along the bottom. It happens more than a hundred times a year, somewhere in the world. Then a ship sails out, finds the broken line, lifts it up from the sea floor, joins the glass back together and lowers it down again. The cloud, it turns out, gets seasick.