regarding the internet

I spent a wonderful morning reading, re-reading, and pondering the words of one of my favorite modern writers, Chuck Klosterman. (On a sidenote, Chuck Palahniuk is another one of my ultimates. Interestingly, “Chuck” is one of my least favorite male names. Hm.) The last essay, “FAIL,” in Klosterman’s Eating the Dinosaur addresses the topic of technology and its damaging aspects on our lives (among other things, of course). One quote in particular bothers me – because of its accuracy.

“The degree to which anyone values the Internet is proportional to how valuable the Internet makes that person.”

How valuable does the internet make us? Well, let’s look at my peer group as a whole. Generally, we are all on Facebook. A significant portion of us use Twitter. A less significant portion of us maintain some sort of personal website, online journal, or blog. Like it or not, there is a critical aspect of our personas that must be maintained via the internet. I can only think of one close friend who does not have Facebook, and consequently, she is left out of party invites, inside jokes, even getting “tagged” in photos (therefore losing social relevance and recognition). In fact, she will probably never read this or be aware of its existence, because most of my personal friends find their way to my site after I post a link to a new piece on my Facebook wall. It is a pathetic, unreal micro-world, but it exists and we are all contributing to its power.

This is why our (assuming you, reading this, are in the same generation as me) parents and grandparents, as a general demographic, have not embraced the internet and especially social media the same way we have. It gives them little value. I bet for at least half of us, our parents still hardly understand how to check their voicemail or send a text message. They can try to get on Facebook, or read Twitter or browse Tumblr (if I ever caught my mom browsing Tumblr, however, I would die of shock), but it won’t hold the same significance for them than it does for us. They don’t care as much as we do, and these technologies don’t care as much about them.

How valuable does the internet make me? Maybe a little more valuable than most, even in my age group. I realize that sounds haughty and self-important, and I don’t mean to have it come off that way. But it goes back to my writing. It is one of the few independent activities I really find joy and release in (also sometimes intense frustration and futility, but let’s focus on the good), and while that may be enough for some, they are the ones who go vent in their paper journals and feel satisfied. I am extroverted in my thoughts and opinions; I want other people to know what I am thinking, even about the most mundane or unimportant topics, and even if they don’t agree. I thirst for fame and popularity! Since Random House isn’t exactly pounding down my door with an offer, where am I to go? Obviously, the internet, every amateur writer/critic’s haven. Let’s not pretend that I am even gaining real internet prominence for this blog (yet). HOWEVER. Do people I barely talk to in real life mention to me that they love my site? Yes. Do friends of friends who I am not even Facebook “friends” with read this? Yes. Have I encountered acquaintances who I assume despise me tell me they check this blog? Yes! For some of these people, do I really understand why? No. (Well, except for the fact that I am brilliant, of course.) I just know that some people reading is more than no people reading, and I will take the attention of some over the attention of none. My contributions and thoughts are at least enhancing some people’s lives, maybe just as five minutes of slightly clever entertainment, or even fodder for eye-rolling. This would not be possible without the internet. Therefore I hold more new media stock and am more “valuable” than, say, a girl from my high school who only posts pictures of herself, 30 pounds heavier and three shades tanner, taking shots at a bar in Eastern Washington. (In this case, “a girl” actually refers to “80% of girls” so if you are offended, at least take comfort in the fact you are not alone.)

I do value the internet. A lot, unfortunately. Not a day goes by that I do not check my Gmail, my Facebook, and yes I even have a Twitter even though I detest Twitter more than any other social media outlet. This brings up another relevant Klosterman quote, from the conclusion of his essay: “The Internet is not improving our lives. It’s making things (slightly) worse. But because I’m not free – because I am a slave to my own weakness – I can no longer imagine life without it. I love the Internet. I love the Internet. And I will probably love whatever technological firebomb comes next.” I do believe that the internet has, in ways, hindered my life. It has definitely robbed me of time. I am a slave to this iMac. I feel actual guilt if I do not respond to an email in a timely manner. I feel an intense obligation to keep up with a number of blogs. I am harangued by friends if I don’t post new pictures to Facebook albums after a social event. Despite all of this, I, too, love the internet. It has become such an integral aspect of our cultural networks and communication, without it I honestly do believe I would lose a great deal of value. It’s undeniable: the internet has become a crucial source of social capital.

That said, I’m off to post a link to this. On Facebook. Then obsessively check for comments for the next few hours.
Thanks, Chuck. I love the internet. I love the internet.