Okay. I have done all that I can do to prepare myself for some sort of proper update, although I will admit that I do not have all that much to say.

Is it me, though, or does this whole internet whosiwhatsit prompt more conflicts than offline?

Disclaimer: I am not, and I repeat, NOT referring to any specific incident here. Merely the product of having been online as long and as much as I have and am, and I was reminded of it today by someone's offhand comment.

I have a few theories about this. Not mutually exclusive ones, either.

First I think it's because of speed. Offline, you have to think about things much longer before you have a chance to spit them out at someone. Not always, of course. But here, you can dash off an email...and if you're really mad you even have that extra few precious seconds to think up that *super* cutting comment you can never manage in real time. And you can do so before you really think about it. Lord knows I've sent off emails in fits of rage/huff/spurned-ness/whathaveyou that I have later regretted, or at the very least winced at.

Second, I think it's because we don't have to look one another in the eye, here. Not that it necessarily feels less real, not at all. But to look someone in the face and tell them they're a big fat cocksucking prick is a much different thing than typing "you're a big fat cocksucking prick" into an email or a chat window.

Third, I think it's because the means by which we find and then relate to one another online tends to be via our greatest passions. We join mailing lists or sites that feel so relevant to us that we are willing to give out our personal information or our email addresses. That doesn't happen so much offline. You just meet people. Some will share some of your thoughts and loves, some others. But here we clash over our passions and opinions more often, and I think that's partly why. What leads us to one another is through those things we feel strongly about -- strongly enough to build a whole website, or post a lot to a list, or whatever. And when feelings are that strong, it's a lot easier to get defensive really fast.

Fourth, and obviously...there is no nuance. Well...that's not entirely true. I've been using email and chat for so long that I can easily detect nuance. I also happen to have a better-than-average command of the english language, and my mother being an english teacher and all, have a pretty damn good understanding of syntax. My personal problem is that I easily forget that other people are not the same, and fail sometimes to see that they are not seeing MY nuances. But others I converse with, some of them (like my mother) at least as well-versed in language components as I, can't do it. Whether it has to do with generation, or innate compatibility with the medium, or what, I don't know.

Fifth is multitasking. Not that this in and of itself is problematic. And I don't mean always just doing more than one thing at once. One of the things I like about chatting online is that I am able to communicate multiple threads of a conversation -- often with a single person -- at once. This is the way my personal brain works. Turns out it is not the way most brains work, and it can get very confusing.

Sixth is that there is far less of a sense of removal here than when conversing with a Live Person. I would never dream of sitting across from a friend at a bar and typing up proposals while we were having a conversation. Online, this is not a big deal. In life, one must, to some degree, remove oneself from the rest of one's life to communicate with others. This, I think, makes that time feel more precious somehow. It's time that is gone. Time that cannot be used for anything else. Online, however, I can be sitting in my living room with the tv on, the Boy asking questions, the dog and cats hanging out, and cooking dinner. Parcelling out bits of information into various parts of the universe simultaneously. The problem with this reason is that it works badly in two ways. Since we're not, properly speaking, always truly *giving up* time, we can easily begin to value these relationships, these people, and this time less. The second way is that I personally think that removing oneself to communicate is a good thing. It focusses you on the subject at hand and the other person or people. It makes you clearer, more engaged.

Seventh is a need to impress. In life, we usually have a prolonged period of time in which to make an impression. Sometimes not, but even, say, a first date lasts a couple hours or so. Here, that's not so true. Sometimes it's just seconds, especially with the kind of work that I do (building web sites). Also we all seem to feel this intense desire to sort of explain oneself in tota immediately. To tell the world how special we are, to convey that swiftly and articulately. Apart from the fact that it's probably the worst way to get to know people and allow people to get to know you, it also leads to feelings that are easily bruised. Because we can choose those parts of us we find most valuable or interesting or impressive, if someone knocks that, it hurts. Often more than some jerk telling you off on the subway, for example.

I do know that groups I observe online have much the same dynamic as offline, except that here the strokes painted are much larger, the cliff face much more clearly cragged. Things stand out more, because they are all isolated moments, and can hardly help but be so.

Oh, I hope I haven't just gone and contradicted my whole net reality post. I stand by each of these. I guess this is more sort of the amateur psychologist coming out. And honestly I don't think I am. Because in the last net thing I mentioned that we are here to find people like us. And people like us? Can hurt us ten times more than those that aren't, or even just those that we don't see are like us.

But to close on something a little more upbeat about this whole crowd of misfits and prom queens and drag queens and bachelors that lives here, it's also easier for me, personally, online to deal with people's idiosyncracies, to take a moment to think, "you know? This person's not so bad, and even if s/he is, it's not worth my time or energy to pay attention to it." To pick out the good things on the cliff face as well as the irritating habits. In life, there are very very few people I genuinely, really truly, LIKE. I can tolerate almost anyone (but certainly not all). I can have fun and enjoy the company of many other people. But I pretty much always go the guilty-until-proven-innocent route in "real life" -- people have to prove to me that they're worth my time and energy before I'll give it up. And my trust, for real friends. Here, I'm better at overlooking some of the minor pathologies in order to enjoy the things that are good and interesting and compelling and, sometimes, just plain heartbreaking or just plain beautiful about people.

- onehanded