Thursday, July 14, 2005
Quickly now, take a seat and prepare for a harrowing journey through the fetid underbelly of the Internet, dear reader, from which you will emerge changed and honest. You reviewed the chart I mentioned yesterday, I assume, because it was the one thing you were supposed to read. Plus, I asked. If you forgot to read it, then look smart and pay heed to the summary I’m about to give: we’re all implicated in the great geek expanse, every one of us, simply by virtue of this very moment. Weblogs, mainstream as they’ve become, are still measurably less cool than saying, “Oh, uh, I sometimes log onto AOL to check my mail and download some recipes.”
That’s not us. We’re here, “here” being a rough triangulation somewhere above science fiction and, at the very least, 40 miles west of filthy Digimon fan fiction. We keep our hands to ourselves in this house, for we do not suffer the touching of other people’s phazers. I’d like to think we’re simply another pitch added to our angsty generation, a tiny frequency supplementing that cynical voice in which our zeitgeist intones, ever sardonically, over pints and pints of irony. Or something.
A forum would’ve taken this frequency and amplified it, but such a leisure will have to wait. Readership must grow to a point where self-moderation will obliterate online stupidity instantly, with minimum muss and fuss. “What kind of stupidity?” you ask. Let’s consider three types of Webizens, mainly because three is the largest number I care to know.
The Savvy Shopper
We’re consumers, I don’t think this is any sort of revelation, but what’s interesting is how the Web magnifies our consumerism and sense of entitlement. Visit a few forums and you’re guaranteed to meet people who are dicks about shopping. They usually can’t be bothered with intelligent sentences, probably because coherent clauses weren’t on sale this week.
man what. ebay has it for cheaper than amazon. i got it at ebay. you didn’t. you paid more than i did, lol.
i am contacting the bbb because buy.com is out of stock.
the coupon code for 90% off worked, but i don’t get free shipping. why. OH GOD WHY DO I NOT GET FREE SHIPPING.
In truth, this Netizen is only slightly insufferable, especially when compared to…
The Emotercon
It’s a curious spectacle, watching people replicate real-life interaction on a glowing computer screen, and I believe there’s a cadre of pasty folks campaigning from their mothers’ basements to replace interpersonal communication entirely with emoticons. It begins innocently enough with this:
:o)
I’m told it represents mirth, whereas the following suggests unequivocal despair over the human condition:
:o(
Assuming we’re on the same page, and ecstatically so (:oD), let’s follow the natural progression of the Emotercon. There comes a point where smiley faces don’t offer the same rush anymore, and that’s when the subject starts to surround single actions with asterisks.
*laughs*
*blushes*
*dies*
Normally you’d regard this with the same sentiment reserved for unwashed children, but it doesn’t stop there. The Emotercon eventually graduates to asterisking complex interactions.
*begins 8-hour digestion process*
*hands over mouth in embarrassment*
*laughs uncontrollably, requires exorcism*
*hands in pants*
But if there’s one thing the Internet encourages more than human action, it’s expertise.
The Expert Savant
Being wrong on the Internet doesn’t mean you have to admit your shortcomings or explain yourself. Mistakes are really licenses to become experts, scientists, professors, and armchair philosophers.
Say a guy starts a website dedicated to pictures of exotic beasts, but after a lot of pomp and marketing, he’s got nothing to show for his effort. His audience starts to question him.
Savvy Shopper: i paid for a discounted membership, but i don’t see a single picture. give me my money back. or i call FTC.
Emotercon: dog dog lol. :o8 *expresses confusion over lack of pictures*
Expert Savant: Indeed, perhaps all too often in the verdant tapestry of our multifaceted history, the propensity toward visual stimuli overpowers our “better” instincts in a pitched war of attrition. Preference of–and assuredly for–the aesthetic, amalgamated with an imbalance away from non-pictorial pleasures, is not only an affront to sensorial traditionalists hailing from the classic school of le visuel admis, but a defiling of the final vestige of those would-be Neo Jungians, the bitterly charred husk of la visuel bizarre. The ideal human being, as it were the artiste spectaculaire, forsakes the optical component altogether and immerses himself in wondrous auditory overtones, what I prefer to designate the wondrogen. Also, I don’t own a camera.
[/pedagogy]
I’ve learned a lot today, how about you? It’s a question of time, dear reader. We’ll have a real forum one day, just not now.