OP-ED My brain the internet

Author: Dave Small

Experience is the most important kind of knowledge. We lack experience. What we have are facts. We have Wikipedia and Google. The ability to access an inexhaustible source of information rests at the connection between our minds and the Ethernet cable. Without WiFi, without BlackBerry, without Google, what are we? We are lesser. The Internet is an organ that we cannot live without. It is a brain; its absence cripples us. The world moves at broadband speed but our brains cannot even do 56k.

What would life be like without e-mail? How would I know that there is a recall on peanut butter? Or that President Barack Obama wants me to have a house party to talk about the economic crisis? These instant updates and constant reminders keep us wired in. We never feel left out when our inboxes are fat and happy with e-mails from Facilities Services, SGA, the Office of the President and www.amazon.com, with its "Top 10 Best Deals in Electronics" or "Indie Music Spotlight." Without e-mail, I would never be reminded of this life-altering information. The idea that I would actually need to remember my meetings without the aid of iCal, Microsoft Outlook or Google Calendar is absurd. How is it possible to remember all of these things with just the help of my simple brain?

Even socializing would be so much harder without the Internet. What would life be like without Facebook? I cannot imagine the monumental change that would occur if I couldn't be surprised by a friend request from the girl who picked her nose too much in sixth grade. My news feed tells me she is married. Her wedding pictures are posted and her mom is tagged, crying as her baby girl walks from the chapel, husband in hand, "Just Married."

I click the mother's name - a link. Oh, if only I were in her network. I could look at her pictures, her friends and her status. The link is a glorious invention. My cursor turns to a little hand, ready to grab at anything that pops up on my screen. The link is a net in which we can sieve a constant flow of information, or rather, diarrhea: a worthless void of content, yet insatiably intriguing. Without links, I am forced to know what I want to learn. I must have an objective, a goal, a destination, but alas, I do not. All I have is two hours before class to kill.