One of my objectives with this new iteration of the blog is to provide readers with more resources on the study of Buddhism. I believe deeply in the academic study of Buddhism — and not just because I have a vested interest in it as a professional academic! I believe that the textual, doctrinal, philosophical, […]
In case you’ve been living on Mars, in a cave, with your fingers in your ears, here’s some stuff that might get your blood boiling.
Some folks believe that the Internet is somehow different from the “real world.” Some folks believe that, because of the anonymity of the Internet, people will invariably behave worse online than off, that they will say and do things that in the “real world” they would never consider saying or doing, morals and ethics be damned.
I believe that’s a crock of shit. Sometimes (a lot of times) people behave badly. Period. Where and when that happens is most likely a factor of specific circumstances. And to the extent that I’ve seen people behave spectacularly poorly in a wide array of circumstances, both online and off, I cannot sustain the belief that people behave quantitatively or qualitatively worse on the Internet than they do in real life.
Here’s a bunch of stuff that you’ve probably already seen (and some you might not have) around the Internets.
One of my earliest forays into the world of online social media or networking was a site called Tribe. I got involved with Tribe in late 2003 or early 2004, quickly made a lot of online friends that turned into real-world friends, and after a year or two, lost interest in the site, became distracted by other interests, and let my profile collect digital dust.
Tribe’s social networking model was very different from Facebook’s or Twitter’s. Whereas the lion’s share of what one posts on the later is public (or “public” to the people within your circle of friends), the vast majority of what you could do within Tribe was constrained to “tribes” discussion-forum-esque groups one could join and engage in conversation with others. Over time, one’s personal profile became more elaborate and, like a Facebook profile, they, too, became a locus of activity. But, back when I was active, nearly all activity happened within tribes. And tribes had various levels of openness, from completely private and invitation-only to completely open to everyone on the network.
The hey-day of my activity on Tribe was during the 2004 United States presidential election. As you can imagine, there were dozens of tribes dedicated to the topic where people from all over the political spectrum debated the issues, defended their chosen candidates, and attacked the minutia of others’ opinions. In this midst of all this debate emerged one fellow who took up an extreme, right-wing position on just about anything. He attracted a lot of attention, both negative and positive, and along with some other conservative friends started other tribes dedicated to their causes and points of view. (One of these folks was particularly fond of what could only be described as low-brow humor. I believe he started a tribe dedicated to “camel toes,” for example, a tribe that successfully overlapped a racial slur for people of Middle Eastern descent with with various photos of women’s below-the-waist wardrobe malfunctions and was thus both deeply misogynistic and racist.)
One of my Tribe-friends was a left-leaning, Stanford graduate student in the sciences. And one day he announced to us in private that the conservative rabble-rouser wasn’t a real person. My Stanford friend had made him up, created a false account, created an elaborate back-story for this person, and then went around Tribe starting arguments with people with the express purpose of challenging other liberals to defend and explain their positions more clearly. On the one hand, it was a brilliant ruse. On the other, it exposed one of the fatal flaws and best features of Tribe: anyone could make up an account, a personality, an identity, a whole person completely divorced from reality. In short, a “person” who existed only within the network of Tribe.
Here’s a quick, digest-y post, full of all sorts of shameless self-promotion.
The frequency and quantity of posts here at the buddha is my dj certainly fluctuates over time. But I feel as though I have written considerably less since September than I have in the past. No. Wait. Check that. I’ve written a ton; what I haven’t done is post any of it.
Via the ever-wonderful RMS at the Worst Horse, I have discovered, downloaded, installed, and am now using Ommwriter. As my long-time readers know, I have a complicated relationship with all things marketed as “Zen” or “Buddhist” or in any way a part of the spirituality business to the extent that it rubs my leftist leanings the wrong way, raising my quiet indignation against the system, the market-saturated culture of oppression in which we often find ourselves.
But. I digress.
I digress because I may be a convert here. The experience of actually using Ommwriter is, to put it bluntly, pretty freakin’ cool. I think part of the reason I’m enjoying it is because I was reminded yesterday about an article I read some years ago one of those articles written by a linguist or a statistician at MIT back when the Internet was still called ARPANET, the kind of paper that gets shuffled from hard drive to hard drive before ending up in some dusty corner of the web to be found by the likes of me. I can’t now recall where I found that article, but I do recall that its author claimed that word processing programs are evil. They are evil because they force users to become two fundamentally different types of people simultaneously: typists and typesetters. The art of writing, of typing, is something that requires focus and dedication. And word processing programs, to the extent that they distract you with auto-spelling corrections and troubling you with type face and fonts and margins and so on, get in the way of writing. A good writer, the author suggested, should just write and only once she’s finished, should she worry about Helvetica or Times New Roman, single or double space.