The Internet seems to be causing a lot of anxiety these days, especially with that new worm lurking around. I’m half expecting a new diagnosis to appear in the DSM-VII (or whatever number we’re currently on) for Internet anxiety disorder. A whole class of pharmaceuticals will no doubt follow, with television commercials imploring us to ask our doctor about Netaxil. Side effects may include dry mouth, dizziness, loss of interest in computers, headache, diarrhea, and night sweats. Netaxil isn’t for everyone. Tell your doctor if you experience more than four hours thinking up clever things to put on your Facebook status and if you have chronic liver disease. Pregnant or nursing IT professionals should not use or handle Netaxil as serious consequences to job performance could occur. Ask your doctor if Netaxil is right for you.
I met with a friend for whom this imaginary medicine might be right for yesterday. He declared that he’s gone from his dream job (at the same employer) to having to find new clients for the company, and he fears that will involve a higher Internet presence for him and for his employer. I worked with this friend for many years at a company that was technology-driven. ”High Tech, High Touch” was the motto for said company, and it was at the forefront of the Internet explosion. I remember attending a conference where participants had to stand up and tell something memorable about themselves, and my anecdote was, “I bet I’m the only person in the room with my email address on my business card.” Yeah. My dear friend’s paranoia about technology, in all seriousness, truly worried me. Here was a man who had run the gamut from stoic civil engineer to wildly successful strategic thinker and speaker and now, it seems, the wheel of fortune has come around again. He had trouble making eye contact with me throughout lunch. I recommended some fictional titles for him on paranoia that have a humorous slant to them in hopes he would recognize his techno-angst for what it was and perhaps overcome it. He spoke in hushed tones about his children, aged 12 and 16. ”They don’t even KNOW!” he said. ”They are so entrenched in it that they don’t even know how many people have access to their information.” Ironically, up until about six months ago, my friend’s largest client was Google, who, according to a recent article I read, is thinking of implanting Google chips in our heads, much like Bluetooth headsets, so we can access information faster, thus becoming more intelligent. I wondered if his prolonged contact with Google (about 3 years) had driven him to this point, and it also made me wonder about Google’s continuous status as Fortune’s “Best Place to Work” for at least 4 years running. Sure, they give you free lunches, and gourmet ones at that, and let you play pool during the workday. But what are they doing to you after you go home? And will Netaxil help?
Last year, in the most peaceful place, in an isolated house on Oak Island, I read a book about paranoia. It was Don DeLillo’s classic, National Book Award-winning White Noise, and one of the books I recommended to my friend yesterday. As I listen to co-workers babble about “Dancing with the Stars” and People Magazine and “The Amazing Race,” I’ve come to see DeLillo’s 1984 book as some sort of prediction of things to come, as if he were Dickens’ Ghost of Christmas Future. Entertainment that dulls the senses has become, in the 21st century, de rigueur, hence the vast popularity of such formulaic television shows, movies, and even books (see Nora Roberts writing as J.D. Robb’s “[insert word here] in Death” series).
Even as I try to convince my friend that just because he is paranoid does not mean that they are or are not out to get him, I’m reminded of a recent conversation with my husband concerning a 1971 film called Little Murders. The blackest of black comedies starring Elliot Gould and directed by Alan Arkin, the movie has a strong subplot about conspiracies by our government. Unavailable for many years, the film was released twice on DVD – both times during the last presidential administration – and almost immediately went off the market. It’s now unavailable for purchase except from those few lucky collectors who managed to get a copy of it while it was in print.
I’m also reminded of a recent article I read in The Sun about how the Internet is changing the way we think, and an experiment undertaken by someone to gather as much information about a random group of people using something seemingly so innocuous as their Amazon wish list. This portion of the article mentions that if you happen to have George Orwell’s 1984 on your wish list, just about everyone can now know that factoid about you, including employers and colleges to whom you may be applying for entrance. When I told this to my friend yesterday, he seemed to almost blanch with panic.
The words of my mother and grandmother also come to mind…”Keep your hands to yourself and keep your thoughts to yourself.” Mama also taught me to hold my cards very close to my chest when playing Canasta or Poker. I can see the reasoning behind those lessons now that I’m in middle age in 2009. It’s a good season to practice my poker face and leave my Facebook status blank for a while. And to talk to my doctor about Netaxil.
By the way, Big Pharma, should you decide to use that drug name, remember, I made it up.
