SBS's Brainshark Presentation on Technomania

Computer and Cyberspace Addiction by John Suler

In John Suler's article Computer and Cyberspace Addiction , he discusses computer or internet addiction. He prefers the term cyberspace addiction because it encompasses video game addiction, people's addiction to chat rooms or social networking, and many other subgroups including those addictions that are not even associated with the internet, like people's addictions to their computers doing word processing, etc.

He talks about two criteria that determine if this cyberspace addiction can be classified as a disorder. He asks, "Is there a consistent, reliably diagnosed set of symptoms that constitutes this disorder? Does the diagnosis correlate with anything - are there similar elements in the histories, personalities, and future prognosis of people who are so diagnosed." So far, researchers have been able to come up with a set of symptoms that are related to cyberspace addiction, but haven't agreed on whether the this addiction relates to any elements in the history or personality of the person who has these symptoms.

This article was written in 2004, so I am not sure if more recent research had addressed this second criterion. With no official psychological or psychiatric definition of what constitutes computer or internet addiction, it is difficult to say that someone is addicted and someone isn't. The other question that I had after reading this article was how many symptoms on a list would one have to have before being diagnosed as a compter addict. I know I spend lots of time on the computer, but according to the article I read, I probably am not addicted YET.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3N3lVltkPWk

When Claris Does Not Work

Entering  Room 2201 of Pike Hall for my Introduction to Educational Technology 3100 summer course on the beautiful University of Minnesota campus, I don’t know what to expect.  A wave of terror sweeps over me as I gaze upon a sea of young computer savvy faces already fiddling with their AppleIIGs in front of them.  Some are checking their email; others are surfing the internet before the professor arrives. How  is a 43-year-old woman going to survive in this alien world? I grab the one remaining seat in the front row .

The professor arrives and speaks like an enemy race of a Star Trek universe. I tune out as words float out of his mouth into my ear. “RAM, ROM, clipart, source code, thumbnail, toolbar, title bar, snippet, snapshot.” ARGH! The Borgs have landed and are taking over the planet Earth.

Relax. Breathe. It’s a drawing program for goodness sake. I did this in kindergarten with finger paints and a pair of scissors. Cut and paste. Nothing more… only this is ClarisWorks, a simple drawing program for teachers to use in their classrooms. I fumble with my mouse and draw a house and grass. Delete. Erase. Redo. Undo. My lines are crooked; my circle sun is a yellow eye with spiky eyelashes. ClarisWorks does not work for me.

“Time for Show and Tell,” my Borg instructor says. The projector switch clicks on. I am exposed like the wires that connect his projector to MY computer. My failed art jumps on the screen for all to see and chuckle at. It’s okay though because I am here to learn this new way of teaching and reaching my students. ClarisWorks will be my friend and I will soon learn to communicate with the Borgs.



What a Tangled Web I Weave

I am entangled in a Web I cannot escape from. I am trapped like the fly which struggles to free its wings from the thing that is ready to consume it. Only I do not struggle, because  the Web is my home, my sanctuary. I do not eat or sleep or even breathe as I nestle deep in its embrace.

My Web is my lover who never bores me. I am Ulysses; he is my Siren. I cannot resist his call when he entices me. He is the ding without the dong. DING. Someone is on the other side of the Web who invokes my name. I respond  to the invocation  as a St. Bernard responds to the stranded skier.

My Web is my muse who leads me down the twisted  path of knowledge with a click…then another click….click….click. These clicks  take me on journeys where he and I explore unknown worlds and solve the mysteries of the universe. He is the bearded wise man at the top of the mountain. He is my Sphinx who knows the answer to all riddles.

My Web is my jailor. He keeps me locked inside a small room. I am surrounded by wires, hidden speakers, the glare of two 21” monitors, cold wooden furniture, and a solitary chair that holds my body erect  for hours without respite. My eyes stare mesmerized by the information that dances across the screen of my computer. There are no chains but I am chained nonetheless.

People tell me I am sick because I would rather stay in my Web than watch a sunset, stroll on the beach, sip a chilled glass of pinot grigio, or watch dolphins romp in the sparkling waves of the Gulf of Mexico. This Web of mine is a neon sign which flashes bright, changes colors, and lures me into its cave of delights.

Come join me in my Web. He is warm and wonderful.

Technologic Daft Punk