- I don't want to be too hard on Glover, since he seems like a thoughtful guy whose worst crime is being derivative. In two recent interviews, he casually mentioned that he reads Kierkegaard, and while I really want to make fun of him for casually mentioning this, I'm not going to. It wouldn't be fair: Because the Internet is a bad record, but not because it's pretentious. I think about the same things Glover does all the time. I'm convinced that the level of depression I feel on a daily basis is caused by how much time I spend online. I can engage in a dozen great conversations with brilliant and hilarious people every day in social media, and it doesn't feel half as fulfilling as a positive in-person encounter with an average stranger (which I normally don't have, positive or negative, most days). And yet this does not prevent me from compulsively seeking validation in the digital realm — nor does it slow the speed at which the buzz from that validation fades. As with all addictive properties, the Internet creates a hunger that can't ever be satisfied. This is simply not a healthy way to live.
What frustrates me about Because the Internet is that instead of illuminating an alternative — or allowing for the possibility of an alternative — it personifies why Internet life is so depressing. The tone is nostalgic, self-referential, and complacent. Like so much of web culture, this record favors archiving (of personal neuroses, of pop-culture references, of hip musical signifiers) over imagination. And it blocks out everything else; the idea of just unplugging from all of our shit never comes up. "I don't want anyone to think this is an indictment," Glover told Time. For him, "it's not like it's a bad thing" that constant exposure to the soul-deadening agents of the Internet has resulted, according to his own lyrics, in his inability to feel anything. Really? So why did you make this record again?
No, I don't find this weird. I see it as a guy attempting to have a cathartic experience + typical internet interaction today. Recently there have been a number of people who are going back to hand writing in order to grasp the real and the solid that many feel is lost in this digital era. example.The most obvious question of all (at least to me) went unasked: Why in the hell would you scrawl seven pages of sentences, photograph them, and then post them on the Internet? Doesn't this strike anybody else as weird, or at least horribly inefficient?
I think most of us would reverse that sentence and say "I can engage in a positive in-person encounter with an average stranger and it doesn't feel half as fulfilling as a single brilliant and hilarious hubski conversation." But there's much much more to it than this. I can't get into it right now as I have to go out and have some (probably average or sub-par) in-person encounters. However, I do want to say this: Thank you for introducing me to Steven Hyden. He's an interesting and thoughtful writer.I can engage in a dozen great conversations with brilliant and hilarious people every day in social media, and it doesn't feel half as fulfilling as a positive in-person encounter with an average stranger (which I normally don't have, positive or negative, most days).
Ummmm - what exactly are you suggesting here, muffin?
But really, I can tell this is setting up to be an interesting conversation (ironically). I genuinely thought a good bit of hubski would be with the author on this one. Face to face is so, so deeply ingrained in us genetically that I can't help but agree with what you quoted to an extent (although hubski's changing my mind about that and a lot of things day by day). I'm curious if anyone agrees with me. Might be its own topic. I come to the internet because good conversation is pretty rare (and much less convenient) in my daily life. Just, interactions in personal space seem on the face of it much more fulfilling -- but often they're so banal, and nothing on hubski is ever short of scintillating. So I'm still partially trying to figure out where I stand on this one. But the need for close physical interaction with other humans is built into us, so it'll be hard getting past that.Ummmm - what exactly are you suggesting here, muffin?
Ha! Yeah...
Speaking from a socially anxious perspective, I don't think there's a difference between the two. As you say here: My best conversations are online because I have trouble conversing about anything at a deeper level in person. It almost seems as if people avoid deep conversations in person. They'll only be banal. Talking to people in person is similar to my view on driving a car - it's necessary to do it, and I need to learn to do it well, but I don't have to enjoy it.interactions in personal space seem on the face of it much more fulfilling -- but often they're so banal
I did go out and accidentally met a new person. I walked in the 20 F weather (somewhat colder than in Denver) for about half an hour and found a new cafe to write in. I'm working on my Shakespeare stories and had Julius Caesar open. The server asked me what I was reading/writing and we got to talking. She's a singer/ songwriterand has a bluegrass band. So now I don't know what to say about the original statement. Yes, I had an in-person encounter - and then it led me back to the internet to look her up. But -- I liked her a lot!! And the hot chocolate was awesome. I guess I can have great conversations both in and not in person. I'm lucky that way. Here's a short blog I wrote ages ago called "Should I leave the House?" on a similar topic. I still prefer not to leave the house, but I have decided to walk for 40 minutes every day, so I guess I will. Rain or shine. Minus 20 or plus 20 (centigrade).