Ever feel lonely out there surfing the web? On second thought, does anyone use the phrase "surfing the web" anymore? Anyway, until I heard about Me.dium, I’d never really considered this question before. I mean, lonely? Reading blog posts, checking up on Facebook pals, commenting on some fan boards . . . how could anyone be lonely? But then again, these are all traces of people– left behind words and ideas, hardly real time. The closest thing to feeling the presence of someone else on the web may be a text or video chat. However, these still tend to take place in areas of the web built for that specific purpose. When I’m surfing, cruising, or clicking, the time on the web is ultimately pretty lonely.

In a recent article from The New Atlantis, Christine Rosen writes extensively about social-networking sites and paints a fairly stark picture. With section titles such as "The New Taxonomy of Friendship" and "Status-Seekers," Rosen paints a picture of social interaction morphing into a giant Pokemon mentality of gotta-catch-em-all status battles where "friends" are publically paraded around (pitted against each other), then tucked away and occasionally petted (or superpoked) while we collect some more (Pokemon metaphor mine, but I think an effective one). Here are my two "favorite" quotes:

"In investing so much energy into improving how we present ourselves online, are we missing chances to genuinely improve ourselves?"

"[The popularity of social networking sites] shows a desire to avoid the vulnerability and uncertainty that true friendship entails. Real intimacy requires risk—the risk of disapproval, of heartache, of being thought a fool. Social networking websites may make relationships more reliable, but whether those relationships can be humanly satisfying remains to be seen."

First, I’m fascinated by the odd choice implied in the first quote. So we either "present" ourselves online or we "improve" ourselves (supposedly in the "real" world)? I fail to see how those are connected; I fail to see why it has to be an either/or choice. Even if we agree with the premises (which I don’t) why can’t someone work on accomplishing both? There’s also an implication that presenting ourselves online can not be a method of improving ourselves (note the further implication that social-networking should intrinsically involve self-improvement in the first place). But I do think the presentation of our online selves can be done in the name of self-improvement– it just might not be the self that Rosen seems to think "genuinely" matters. What seems at stake here is the continuing debate about identity itself– between people who see identity as fluid playful fracturedness and those who seek a cohesive structured enlightenment-style form. I’m obviously in the "playful" camp; and subsequently, see our online selves as valid and genuine expressions of who we are, who we think we are, or who we’d like to be. Be it our representations on Facebook or Myspace, our avatar in Second Life, or our words on a blog, I find it silly to think that such identity representation/presentation is not "genuine" or constructive to our meat space selves (equally fractured, btw). Why this hair-triggered reaction to think that constructing online (digital) versions of ourselves has to be counterproductive to our fleshy selves instead of viewed as an expansion, rearticulation, or playful (productive) fantasy?

"Why don’t you just shut up and enjoy them! You know, what comics use to be for before the internet."

This quote comes from a comic book blog’s comments page; and upon reading it, something about it’s passion seemed to really sum things up for me– but first some background. The overall discussion dealt with Marvel comic’s, upcoming "Secret Invasion" storyline that will run through a variety of titles before culminating in an eight issue mini next summer. The basic plot is such: the Skrulls (a big bad alien menace in the Marvel Universe) have used their shape-shifting abilities to apparently replace a number of Marvel heroes with Skrull operatives. Elektra and Black Bolt have already been revealed as skrull imposters, and Marvel has hinted we will discover many more.

What better way to inaugurate a new column than by making a broad, subjective claim about the largest shift in popular culture over the past ten years? This shift partially involves cultural artifacts so almost completely rendered obsolete that we may soon reach a point where a new generation of boob-tubers doubt they ever existed. Like any obsolete media that barely possesses even marginal kitsch or nostalgia factor (I’m looking at you 8-tracks), we’ll soon wonder why we ever put up with them. Ladies and gentlemen, I’m speaking of the television repeat.