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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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Whoooo are you...who,who...who,who...
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Act II, Scene I
[Audience enters, sits]
It's been a fair length of time since I took the soapbox for an extended
email sermon. When I did the rapid succession previously, I was entrenched
in a (now lost) war with the forces of nicotine addiction. It's a LOT
easier to expel angst and rage when all you want is a couple hauls off of a
duke (duke (n): another name for a cigarette, based on the fact that
cigarettes killed the Duke). Now, (un)happily smoking again, outbursts
become more analytical and calculated.
I decided to write again because of this new found focus; this new harnessed
outlook. When you detach yourself from society in general, your senses
enhance (much like touch making up for the loss of sight). Like being the
only sober person at a party, you realize that drunks are idiots (i.e., me
(the drunk, not the observer)). Observation is nothing if you cannot share
it though. I can watch the news or see someone in traffic, realize how
pathetic or ridiculous society is, and laugh to myself. Problem: You
laugh, and think how funny said situation is. Then, you think it would be
even funnier if you could tell someone (much the same as thinking 'oooh,
that's what I should have said. that would have REALLY zinged 'em!'). Then
you slowly stop laughing because it is the twentieth time you thought that
today, and still have no one to tell. Then you stop laughing entirely when
you realize that you are a lonely, pathetic man with no life because you
have to amuse yourself. Finally, you compensate by sending long verbose
email ("I have this 'friend' with this problem...").
ANYway...
Whether it be email, chat rooms, AOL, or just computing online in general,
you cannot be yourself. Either your name is taken, or you do not want to be
known. Whatever the reason, we assume names and identities online so that
we can navigate comfortably. Some consider it to be 'clothing' to wear on
the Internet rather than 'bare' ourselves. Using your real name online is
like spirit-gumming your wallet to your head, and then wandering outside the
greater Washington DC area. You will..no, DESERVE to be robbed, beaten, and
raped by the predators that stalk the Ether.
I know that some companies force you to use your real name in email
(Jessidia_Springfield@microsoftinthehead.com), but that is also the
exception to safety. Online scam artists and hackers will largely leave you
unscathed. They realize that any company that makes you give out your name
(first, last, and god-knows-why, middle) in email, falling just short of
making you include your social security number, has already robbed you of
your identity to the point that there isn't one to left to steal. In
defense of these folks (since some are in the To: field), would you feel
safer working for a company that would allow "cuddlyface;)@citibank.com"?
Hell, I'd just as soon take free tube socks rather than participate in THEIR
401k.
So, that just leaves the plain stupid. If you are "Seth_Brundel@aol.com",
you may as well be
"Seth_Brundel_199_W_Main_Chicago_555-1212@anal_pentarate_me.com".
The rest of us live under assumed names. It could be from medieval
warriors, household plants, childhood toys ("Rooossseeebuuuddddd....."), or
Hawaiian words for "male part that dangles"; we all have a story to tell
with user names. Strangely, I have found, that no one wants to know
anymore. It is either a) you would never walk up to a guy in the park with
a shopping cart full of crusted Betamax videos, sharpening a straight razor
on his tongue as he wets himself, and ask how life's been treating him (the
"BETTER not to know" category), or b) you never ask a drug
dealer/spy/undercover cop/hooker their real name unless you want a automatic
round/stiletto/fist/switchblade in your face (the "SAFER not to know"
category). Either way, we are as comfortable with pseudonyms as Agents 86
and 99.
So now that you have your identity, and your unfathomable reason for it, you
go out to play in silicon pastures. Whether it be email, newsgroups, or
chat, you have your cape&cowl on, and your secret identity as
billionaire/philanthropist/playboy carefully hidden. You will send
messages, you will post questions and replies, and you come about as close
to interaction as sex through the glass at quarter peep-show.
Still, despite the entrenched effort to avoid even verbal contact, people
are social animals, and will eventually want to talk or (shudder) meet.
This is when the real spycraft begins. Imagine you have been going back and
forth via email with someone at another company, or you meet through a chat
room. You are intrigued with the way they type, and desire to finally meet
(completely forgetting that in person they will not have 20 minutes to come
up with a typed reply, and thus are excruciatingly dull on-the-fly).
Enter first contact:
"Hello"
"Errrr...hi."
"Hi"
"Who is this"
"Neil"
[silence]
"Who?"
"Neil. You know...wellhung. From AOL."
"Ohhhh. Hi."
"Hi"
[painful silence continues for a long, agonizing time]
Now let's say the silence is eventually replaced with conversation. Let's
go so far as to say you continue to keep in touch. For a long time, you
will need to include your screen name with your real name like some
word-association or foreign language tape. Eventually, this
sign-countersign crap dissipates, but you accept having to go though with it
a little TOO easily.
I mean, wasn't this the reason we have middle name? Aren't we given a
built-in alter-ego in case we later learn our parents cannot be trusted with
dolling out a first name? The real irony is that we go out of our way to
pick out a screen name that (while reflecting our personality in an
otherwise cold, electronic world) sounds ridiculous if said aloud. Even
worse is the fact we have to do it when we FIRST meet someone; during that
crucial first-impression period. Would you go to Denny's on a first date
(no, no one would, but bear with me for the sake of analogy) and order
"Moons Over My Hammy"?
The best comedian laughs at himself. Thus, I admit I have gone through this
with more than one person on this mailing. I have been capone before I have
been me. The fact remains that I live out here in the data quite a bit, so
it's inevitable. The rest of you may not have had the pleasure yet. With
an increasing electronic world, you may still yet.
What is the moral of the story? Duh, none, since I am neither of the
Brothers Grimm. What there is is a pause to think. You MUST pick an
identity to live behind online. It is 'The Club' when parking in the Bronx.
You MAY meet someone based on this name alone. So, try to pick something
you can live with. No little kid wants to be called 'stinky' because they
accidentally messed themselves at the playground one day. By the same
token, no mature adult wishes to be 'love-pistol', 'sleepybaby', 'foofy',
'camero-man', 'sassytabby', or
'five_days_off_of_thorazine_and_remembering_my_hands_are_razors'.
So to you, my sensible friends, I beseech you to be there for a friend when
they sign up for "15 Free Hours!". Counsel them, warn them, coach them. Be
a humanitarian. Friends don't let friends pick #$%^#@ stupid user names.
Nakedly,
Capone
End Act II
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(11/23/96)