Essay For Zeek the Geek So please no one else msg

Young Cyber Addicts By AMY WU

A graduate of New York University, Amy Wu has written articles on technology and business

for Newsweek, U.S. News & World Report, Billboard, and The New York Times. The following

essay appeared in Minutes of the Lead Pencil Club: Pulling the Plug on the Electronic

Revolution, a 1996 collection of "letters, essays, cartoons, and commentary on how and why to

live contraption-free in a computer-crazed world."

The phenomena of sending letters to all of my high school friends with the touch of a button, and

joining the "rec.music.Dylan" for diehard Dylan fans transformed me into a shameless cyber

addict in my freshman year. Like the hundreds of other bleary-eyed addicts I made my nightly

trek to the computer lab, where a queue-shaped waiting line was already formed, my fingers

itching to touch the keyboard and my mind already set on chatting with my online boyfriend

R2D2. For weeks I forfeited sunshine for a fluorescent terminal A whole new world was opening

up before me until my "A" average in anthropology drifted to a mediocre "B." The Internet is

becoming young America's latest addiction, especially on college campuses. The "Just Say No"

to sex, drugs, and alcohol may soon pertain to e-mail and surfing the information superhighway'

Soon CA (Cyber Addicts Anonymous) may be added to AA. Blame it on the free e-mail

accounts and easy access most colleges offer.

A cyber addict is as easy to distinguish as a swaggering alcoholic. They sit before a screen for

hours laughing, talking, and smiling at a screen, hopelessly lost in their own world. They proudly

tell you that yes they do spend four hours a day in cyberspace, that yes they have a fruitful social

life where they chat with friends with names like KillBarney, that yes they procrastinate on

major papers so they can keep up with their e-mail correspondence. When asked what they

would do if the school took away their most prized possession, they gasp and turn pale with the

possibility. "If I didn't have access I'd have to get a life," a junior said with a nervous laugh. For

others it would be more of an inconvenience than a total loss. "I wouldn't freak, some people

would just freak," a freshman said. Others say that they would just buy a modem. All they have

to do is log on to the school's system still free of cost.

The temptation of entering cyberspace is great for many young people. It's a cheap and quick

alternative to snailmail (the kind with a stamp). The "Talk" channel bears an uncanny

resemblance to the telephone. Logging onto the Net allows you to chat with as many as thirty

people at the same time. There are hundreds of newsgroups where the latest movies can be

debated, where the psychology of body art can be dissected and where Camille Paglia and Rush

Limbaugh can be bashed. Instant friends from as far away as Australia and Africa are made

through the "soc.penpals." Love at first byte is even a possibility. My girlfriend and a cyber

friend went out to a café after meeting each other online. Unfortunately conversation over

cappuccino didn't make them compatible, and they never e-mailed each other again. The Internet

is a channel for the curious. With the click of a mouse the Dead Sea scrolls can be viewed, the

President's health care plan will appear, and letters to editors or to cyberzines can be written. For

a generation accustomed to fast music, fast food, and quick results, the Internet is a perfect match

- it's easy, it's fast, it's fun, it's free. It is also addictive and as dangerous its it is educational.

There are stories of young people who have disappeared into the computer, who become so

addicted that they cybersurf for nine or ten hours and continue into the night. There are always

one or two of these hopeless addicts in the lab. They have glazed expressions on their faces and

if you wave to them they think you're a figment of virtual reality instead of reality.

The Dead Sea scrolls aren't addictive, but mudding - a Dungeons and Dragons type game - and

checking how many e-mail messages you've received is. One young woman tearfully told me

how she became addicted, "Oh I was bad." she said. "I wouldn't count the hours, I would just be

there." She and her channel friends would chat about everything from Nine Inch Nails's newest

album to rumors of Kurt Cobain's ghost. Her addiction reminded me of my addicted roommate

who begged me to hold her computer card for a week after she had done poorly on a mid-term

because she spent the previous night on the Internet. Needless to say the week didn't last.

Another young woman, whose grades plummeted from 3.3 to 2.5 after getting hooked on the

Internet, tried to explain. "I didn't stop studying," she said, "you just like get addicted to it.

You're so into the conversation you don't want to get off and study, you just study less." It's a

typical response from a cyber addict.

These young people are drawn into a world where they are connected to the world but sadly

disconnected to their environment. Many have lost friends and a social life which includes going

to the movies or out for pizza. Some haven't talked on the phone and written a letter for a year.

Many have given up school activities, student government, and sports. Earlier this year my

suitemate's boyfriend even called my room and told me to tell her to get off the computer so he

could talk to her. "Get off the computer!" I screamed. "Don't bother me!" she shot back. The

boyfriend was despondent and inconsolable and threatened to throw her computer out the

window. Many addicts lock themselves in coffin-styled dorm rooms and spend sunny days

sitting under a fluorescent light staring at a screen for hours until that glazed expression is

achieved.

If only colleges charged Internet use per hour, if only accounts were given out on the basis of

need, if only hours were limited, then maybe horror stories about young people who have failed

classes because of too much e-mail, who have disappeared in the mudding world, who haven't

spoken to a human being in a week, who haven't felt the sun in days, and are proud of all the

above, wouldn't exist. As seemingly great as free access on the information superhighway may

seem to prospective students and parents, the dangers and damage it can cause outweigh the

positives. "I know some people who had to cut down because they developed carpal tunnel

syndrome," one young woman said. She stared at her own atrophying wrists, the result of one too

many hours chatting with the "Mystery Theater 3000," smiled sweetly, and said she had

to finish e-mailing Darth Vader, her new online boyfriend. It was just another sad story from a

young cyber addict.