__ bubble: Internet stock phenomenon

Usage examples of dotcom.

Hundreds of thousands of technologically-savvy operators have joined the market in the last two years, as the dotcom bubble burst.

Much of the merchandise in the shops is generic dotcom trash, vying for the title of Japanese-Scottish souvenir-from-hell: Puroland tartans, animatronic Nessies hissing bad-temperedly at knee level, second-hand schleptops.

She avoided a tall, imperious woman who seemed to think she still owned a billion shares of the Dotcom Cartel even though it had vanished in a cloud of smoke three centuries ago.

The woman who thought she still owned a chunk of the Dotcom Cartel had fallen on the path.

But a few years ago, this man called Harry Vermont and I set up this dotcom company.

China in the seventeenth century, a great industrial fortune in Germany in the nineteenth, or today, dotcom, that sort of thing.

Dutch golden age conjure up any image for most people today, it is that of the trade in paintings, which were regarded mostly as aesthetically pleasing commodities rather than objects of art, or of the tulipomania, the crazed tulip market of the 1630s, which was so recently mirrored in our own dotcom bubble.

It left dotcoms a year before they tanked, but then, instead of pushing its advantage, left the money to marinate for a year or decade or two.

Much of the merchandise in the shops is generic dotcom trash, vying for the title of Japanese-Scottish souvenir-from-hell: Puroland tartans, animatronic Nessies hissing bad-temperedly at knee level, second-hand schleptops.

And as well as present­ing the dream of an ideally beautiful America in which all women were babes and all men were Marks, after doing the basic work of selling pizza and SUVs and I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter, beyond money management and the new ditditdit of the dotcoms, the commercials soothed America’s pain, its head pain, its gas pain, its heartache, its loneliness, the pain of babyhood and old age, of being a parent and of being a child, the pain of manhood and women’s pain, the pain of suc­cess and that of failure, the good pain of the athlete and the bad pain of the guilty, the anguish of loneliness and of ignorance, the needle-sharp torment of the cities and the dull, mad ache of the empty plains, the pain of wanting without knowing what was wanted, the agony o£ the bowling void within each watching, semiconscious self.