Here I sit. It's 1:00 a.m. and I have no reason to be awake. I'm house-sitting, so the dog will probably wake me up around 7, but I'm not even really trying to go to sleep.
Why would anyone do something so stupid? It's not like I'm watching something interesting or helping someone through a crisis. I'm not really doing anything. I'm just dilly-dallying on the internet.
For instance, right now I have tabs opened to Twitter (holla! @kevinpnye !), facebook, livejournal (so I can read Coke's blog), and google analytics (which can be attributed to Lauren).
Before I go to bed I will invariably check my email (guaranteed to be nothing new), refresh Twitter, probably breeze through espn.com (even though I could turn on the channel instead), may find something good on youtube, and then I'll end up watching a movie on netflix.com.
The question really becomes "what in the hell did I do before the internet??" . I like to think that I've blocked out memories of pre-internet life because it was full of boring stuff like trees and the natural beauty of the world. Now when I want to see the natural beauty of the world, I'll go to the boston.com/bigpicture gallery page.
The sad part is that it's almost cliche to think about how incredible the internet is. It's not like you don't know that you can find whatever you could possibly want on here - unless you're one of my parents...in which case you have no idea how you got to this blog and don't know how to get rid of it either, so I'm not real worried about that.
So yes, it's a little played out to remind you to take a second and try to comprehend what you're doing, but try it anyway.
As an example, I had Brian Windhorst's tweets sent to my phone today because I'm intrigued by the Cavaliers' trade chatter. My phone isn't on the internet, but Twitter send me texts anytime he tweeted. That's unbelievable.
The internet is the only reason you know that I can write...so that's how you know it's awesome.
Really. Take a minute and think about the technology.
Now take a minute and go sit outside, because when the otters take over the world, our technology won't be worth a shit.
Why would anyone do something so stupid? It's not like I'm watching something interesting or helping someone through a crisis. I'm not really doing anything. I'm just dilly-dallying on the internet.
For instance, right now I have tabs opened to Twitter (holla! @kevinpnye !), facebook, livejournal (so I can read Coke's blog), and google analytics (which can be attributed to Lauren).
Before I go to bed I will invariably check my email (guaranteed to be nothing new), refresh Twitter, probably breeze through espn.com (even though I could turn on the channel instead), may find something good on youtube, and then I'll end up watching a movie on netflix.com.
The question really becomes "what in the hell did I do before the internet??" . I like to think that I've blocked out memories of pre-internet life because it was full of boring stuff like trees and the natural beauty of the world. Now when I want to see the natural beauty of the world, I'll go to the boston.com/bigpicture gallery page.
The sad part is that it's almost cliche to think about how incredible the internet is. It's not like you don't know that you can find whatever you could possibly want on here - unless you're one of my parents...in which case you have no idea how you got to this blog and don't know how to get rid of it either, so I'm not real worried about that.
So yes, it's a little played out to remind you to take a second and try to comprehend what you're doing, but try it anyway.
As an example, I had Brian Windhorst's tweets sent to my phone today because I'm intrigued by the Cavaliers' trade chatter. My phone isn't on the internet, but Twitter send me texts anytime he tweeted. That's unbelievable.
The internet is the only reason you know that I can write...so that's how you know it's awesome.
Really. Take a minute and think about the technology.
Now take a minute and go sit outside, because when the otters take over the world, our technology won't be worth a shit.
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