COLUMN: Wednesday Morning, 4 a.m.
There are critical questions we must all ask ourselves at some point in our lives: Why am I here? Where am I going? Am I going anywhere? Will this degree give me access to any form of palatable employment within my lifetime? And speaking of Lifetime, are there more than 14 people that actually watch that network on a regular basis? But most importantly, why am I sitting at my computer at 4:23 a.m. typing up a stream of consciousness rant that probably will be read by no more than those same 14 people?
I’ll tell you why: because we need to talk about the Internet. The Internet, you say? Why Josh, why bring up such a thing in the wee hours of the morning? Just what about this “vast panacea of knowledge”* do we need to discuss?
The Internet is the best possible source of pictures of guys that look like Kenny Rodgers. This is not in dispute. But I want to talk about online classes. Convenient? Yes. Innovative? Yes. Inexpensive? Not really. Effective? Can’t say. I can’t say because I’m still in my first semester of such coursework. I can say one thing with confidence: If you only take two classes in a semester, and still plan on maintaining any degree of social interaction with other human beings, don’t take both classes online. For the past five weeks my entire classroom experience has consisted of exchanged message postings with people that claim to be fellow students, but for all I know could be deranged communists researching an insidious plot to rob my freedoms and make me like the Dave Matthews Band. For all the communists know, I’m really Richard Simmons. Even now I sit alone in the dark trying to have a meaningful conversation with a 19-inch Mitsubishi monitor.
All of the hype and publicity about the virtual world have given me the impression that there are people out there who think an ideal life would be one completely alienated from society where you can manage all of your temporal needs through the services of US West and UPS. It reminds me of those old sci-fi TV shows where Captain Kirk meets an alien life form that has become so advanced that the only physical form they have left is this brain-looking thing that floats in a bowl of cream soda. Wait. Maybe that was a movie with Will Smith. At any rate, I’m quite glad to have my English 1010 classes to keep me sane, where I can discuss important topics like Monty Python and the film Zoolander with my students face-to-face. There’s something about human interaction that is vital; something we just can’t do without. Maybe it’s purely psychological. Maybe it’s genetic. Maybe it’s just that it’s much more fun to see someone’s instant reaction to being called a butt head instead of waiting for a returned e-mail. All I’m saying is we should do all things in moderation, or we will become a society of floating brains that dig Richard Simmons.
Now for another important issue. I recently made the jump from Friday to Monday publication. The move was extensively celebrated by friends, family and an underground religious cult led by a buddy of mine from high school. While it makes me happy, it also concerns me to find that I am appearing in the same issue as the very inspiration for my own writing, Mr. Dave Barry. It concerns me because I’m not as funny as he is. It also concerns me because he has the benefit of fascinating letters sent to him from across the country that give him zany ideas. I have the benefit of fascinating letters from the Columbia House DVD club demanding payment for the copy of Scorpion King they shipped but that I didn’t really want.
Therefore, in an effort to generate more mail response and hopefully more inspiration for healthy, humorous columns, I have decided to make my column more offensive. Here goes:
You are all a bunch of sniveling, worthless ingrates with no taste in music, the best thing to do on a date in this town is to visit the Hyrum meat-packing plant, and Merlin Olsen wears go-go boots.
See you on the net.
* Quote attributed to my good friend and mentor** Dr. David Vergobbi of the University of Utah.
** Important note: Dr. Vergobbi is a real-life good friend and mentor, as opposed to Dr. Venison Skidmore, my alter-ego good friend and mentor that happens to be named after deer meat.
Joshua Alan Terry is a graduate student in American studies that is formally opposed to cloning, except in the case of Nicole Kidman. Comments can be e-mailed to jterry@english.usu.edu.