MAIN » ARTICLESThe Art of the Internet Junkie
It was like being deprived unjustly and suddenly of oxygen, like being made to watch a Duran Duran concert without the sound, like having to sit in an empty room with only a radio to listen to but no socket to plug it in. The Internet was down. And it hit me harder than ever.
Today’s Internet Junkie, a member of the generation being raised on the information super highway, can appreciate what a precious time-wasting tool this global network is. Without it, there never seems to be enough to do. We’ve forgotten how to read, have no imagination left for creativity and for some bizarre reason, the room I found myself in at the time was suspiciously absent of a television. Surely we have not become so dependent on the Internet to entertain us that we’ve become disloyal to the greatest mind-rotting invention of all time?
We’ve been heading that way for a while now, but I never thought we’d actually reached a point where conversation was reliant more on a series of computers than a small box showing pictures that move. The concept still makes me as excited as a schoolgirl waiting for her carton of milk at break time.
Anyway, here I was, sitting in the middle of a Saturday morning with no internet connection and thus no link with the outside world. Mobile communications are brief and expensive, I couldn’t use the landline to make calls, I had no carrier-pigeons left over after last week’s fun and games and the only other idea I had left – the telegram – well, somebody told me we don’t use those anymore. Not only was I heinously unable to forfill my addiction-quota, but I was also unable to plan any activities that wouldn’t rely on a connection to achieve.
I couldn’t arrange to meet Rawson, or check the cinema for film times. I couldn’t see if my bank was closed at midday or whether it was worth the walk into town. I didn’t even know what football, if any, would be on Sky Sports and therefore showing down at the Quayside. To leave the building without consulting an online point of reference would not only be foolish, but downright dangerous. Literally anything could end up happening.
Even the most intense internet-addiction can lead to a positive outcome though. The need for a hit can drive the addict, or in this case, me, to a friends’ house or even further afield to the library. This brings with it exercise, fresh air, potential for social-interaction and all these other glorious possibilities.
The conclusion of a day without the internet though, it can all end just as solemnly as it began. Even after travelling through the previous stages of realisation, disbelief, despair, desperation, acceptance, progression and repression, the final kick in the teeth is when you come back to the PC after a nice day out and realise there is still no access.
There is just no need for that.
Written by J. King
Today’s Internet Junkie, a member of the generation being raised on the information super highway, can appreciate what a precious time-wasting tool this global network is. Without it, there never seems to be enough to do. We’ve forgotten how to read, have no imagination left for creativity and for some bizarre reason, the room I found myself in at the time was suspiciously absent of a television. Surely we have not become so dependent on the Internet to entertain us that we’ve become disloyal to the greatest mind-rotting invention of all time?
We’ve been heading that way for a while now, but I never thought we’d actually reached a point where conversation was reliant more on a series of computers than a small box showing pictures that move. The concept still makes me as excited as a schoolgirl waiting for her carton of milk at break time.
Anyway, here I was, sitting in the middle of a Saturday morning with no internet connection and thus no link with the outside world. Mobile communications are brief and expensive, I couldn’t use the landline to make calls, I had no carrier-pigeons left over after last week’s fun and games and the only other idea I had left – the telegram – well, somebody told me we don’t use those anymore. Not only was I heinously unable to forfill my addiction-quota, but I was also unable to plan any activities that wouldn’t rely on a connection to achieve.
I couldn’t arrange to meet Rawson, or check the cinema for film times. I couldn’t see if my bank was closed at midday or whether it was worth the walk into town. I didn’t even know what football, if any, would be on Sky Sports and therefore showing down at the Quayside. To leave the building without consulting an online point of reference would not only be foolish, but downright dangerous. Literally anything could end up happening.
Even the most intense internet-addiction can lead to a positive outcome though. The need for a hit can drive the addict, or in this case, me, to a friends’ house or even further afield to the library. This brings with it exercise, fresh air, potential for social-interaction and all these other glorious possibilities.
The conclusion of a day without the internet though, it can all end just as solemnly as it began. Even after travelling through the previous stages of realisation, disbelief, despair, desperation, acceptance, progression and repression, the final kick in the teeth is when you come back to the PC after a nice day out and realise there is still no access.
There is just no need for that.
Written by J. King