If You’re Living Online, You Ain’t Living.

By Bob Wire, 6-09-08

	Caption: Your grandpa would know this. Why don't you give him a call?

A friend of mine just sent me an article about how Google is making us stupider. We are “losing our ability to think coherently and deeply,” the article writer states. But couldn’t the same thing be said about bourbon?

I don’t think Google is making us stupider (I say “stupider” because we’re already pretty stupid) any more than a library makes us stupider. (Although it would really help me if they would just put their shit in alphabetical order.) With a world of information, communication and entertainment at our fingertips, the internet has pretty much leapfrogged the computer itself as a revolutionary development in the modern world. Well, as modern as a world that allows Flava Flav to have his own TV show can be.

I make my living through graphic design, music, and writing. Obviously the computer is a central tool in these endeavors, so I’m at the keyboard a lot. But when I go online, I feel like the old hippie who’s been invited to the rave. I was around when ecstasy was the emotion you felt when your team made the playoffs, and crank was another word for your dick. Google was the last name of Barney, the dude who hung out with Snuffy Smith, and downloading was something you did on the toilet.

Maybe I haven’t been paying very close attention, but now there’s all kinds of terminology and weird little social corners of the internet that have escaped my understanding. I like goofing around on the web as much as the next guy, but the whole social cyberculture thing just creeps me out. I prefer interacting with people in meat space as much as possible, and anyone I’ve never met or spoken with is about as real as Snuffy Smith to me. When some dipshit in a discussion board leaps to the defense of some other dipshit and calls him “my friend,” the nerd flag pops up. Especially when one “friend” is in Malaysia, and the other one is in an Antarctic substation.

Still, I’m the first one to admit that I’m a cluebie, with just enough knowledge to cause eyes to roll on a regular basis. For instance, one of my clients asked me if my web page contained any applets, and I told him no, but I did see some applets the last time I downloaded.

The ability to instantaneously share information has led a lot of people to mistakenly believe that others give a rat’s ass what they’re up to. I may be one of the last people on earth who is not using Twitter. For the three of you who don’t know, it’s a (yet another) social networking site, where people answer the burning question, “what are you doing?” Talk about the ultimate online existential black hole—“Um, right now, I’m sitting in front of my computer, typing these words.” And here I thought twitter was what your rectum did when it sensed a download coming on.

A meme is a hunk of entertainment that is spread from user to user by way of email, MySpace, hyperlinks, and other internet conduits. It’s something that goes viral, like that old YouTube video of a chimpanzee investigating his own twitter with his finger, sniffing said finger, and falling off a tree branch. Tweet!

I experienced my first meme in the early 80’s. When I was in college (Q: why do so many of my stories begin with that phrase? A: it was the most entertaining seven years of my life), I dated a girl whose father (unbeknownst to me) was a doctor at the campus free clinic. His daughter (unbeknownst to him) was what we used to call a “bone enthusiast,” and her “alternative lifestyle” was instrumental in her catching a “meme,” which went viral. So when I went to this doctor to tell him that my urine was bloody and lumpy, he “flamed” me by shoving a long Q-tip right up my crank, nearly causing me to “ping” in my shorts. Last I heard of his daughter, she was a United States congresswoman.

Astroturfing is one of my favorite internet phenomena. If you remember the Blair Witch Project internet uproar, you’ve got the perfect example. It involves spreading press releases and fake reports and images in an attempt to convince the public that a manufactured event or spurious story is real. I imagine this term also comes into play when viewing an upskirt shot of Britney Spears with pubic hair.

You know, I think I’ll just choogle onward, blissfully ignorant of all these cybertrends that have everyone chained to their devices. It’s a beautiful day out there, the birds are singing, the grass is green, and the yard needs to be cleaned of doggie downloads. And there’s a lot of it. For a little guy, this pooch has some incredible throughput.

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