Disconnecting. It’s a curious word. I first came across it reading a profile on Arianna Huffington in W. I’m sure her particular brand of “disconnecting” meant not bringing the laptop and the three Blackberry’s to Jackson Hole or Martha’s Vineyard, but even the sentiment, a conscious effort of tuning off and going off-line, no matter how long the time period, seems somewhat revolutionary and anachronistic. Is it even possible to disconnect from the INTERNET? Mormons “disconnect” late-paying Navajos. Yes. Of course. A cellphone & a shotgun bandoleer are not uncommon fashion accessories for a Zapatista. Yes. Of course. The days of being cellphone & computer-less are certainly still tenable, but the ratio of motorolas to moleskins? I couldn’t even give you an answer...And then there are INTERNET “priorities.” Yeah that’s right: INTERNET PRIORITIES. I both laugh and cringe at the absurdity & the irony. But it is what it is. We have hierarchies and priorities, of how we connect and where we are connected. They make coordinating the logistics and strategerie of an activeurbansociallife much more manageable. And then we return to our lonely homes, drunxxx & empty-handed, only to blog or report on messageboardmasadas how “awesome” our nites were. Or perhaps we revert to myspace stalking the cuteboy we saw walking down the street smoking a cigarette and looking so cool we just wanted to melt. Disjointed realities become distorted broadbandloveaffairs as soon Firefox is firestarted. Tevs.
Can you leave? Yes. As long as your ugly mug still shows up IRL somewhere. No one will worry. Can you leave and be “anti-social.” No. I give it three months tops before someone a thousand miles from somewhere wonders what happened to your INTERNET handle and plaintively hopes that “you are okay,” or at least assumes that you are in jail for soliciting a teenager on AIM:
But I say fuck them. Your eardrums are well on their way to being ruined. You should sue Apple or Real Player and start listening to the natural sounds around you. Listen more to the rhythm of the sounds your lover makes, and maybe your sex life will become less “uninspired.” Take deep breaths and envelop yourself in the world of spacey minimal analog sounds captured on “Disco Sonata.” Honestly, the possibilities are endless. YOU are “wired” now. Fine. Resistance is Futile. But it’s nice outside today. Go outside. And smell the roses…
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