NuriaMathog Tue Sep 22, 2009 10:29 amAre we running the economy one too? I just saw it up on the wall, but since that one was copy-edited back in July, I'm not sure if I should post it on the forum a second time.
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It must have been aggravating to send a hate letter in the eighteenth century. It was bad enough if you lived in a separate colony, for the postal carriage was subject to any number of delays: foul weather, exhausted horses, even attacks by highway robbers. If you lived overseas, you had to wait weeks, even months, for the ship to pull into the appropriate port, and then an additional few days for the letter to reach its intended destination. You were stuck impatiently twiddling your thumbs and hoping that the scoundrel received your latest correspondence, which would inform him, in the most courteous manner possible, “With all due respect, sir, you are most abhorrent,” or some equally polite insult. But while you couldn’t guarantee that your letters would arrive in a timely manner, you could be certain that your private feud would remain just that—private.
Two hundred years later, it’s an entirely different story. In this modern era of technology, it takes a mere fraction of a second to click “send” and share your innermost thoughts with the rest of the world. The Net is at your disposal, enabling you to instantly connect and communicate with anyone you choose—granting you an astounding amount of influence. Upload a well-timed YouTube video, gain a few million hits, and you’re well on your way to starting a new political movement. Post a few outrageous, strategically worded Tweets, and you’re the catalyst of a national uproar. It may seem a harmless enough practice…until you’re on the receiving end.
One day, you innocently log onto your G-mail account and discover an urgent message from your buddy, informing you that someone wrote a very detailed note about you on Facebook, and you should probably go check it out. Intrigued, you sign on to the website, already envisioning a heartfelt essay about what an inspirational and life-changing individual you are (after all, what else could it be about?). You’re flattered—at least, until you read the title: “God, I hate this person!”
Well, that seems a bit harsh.
Your name isn’t mentioned anywhere in the note, which would indicate that you weren’t actually supposed to read it, but how this anonymity could possibly be maintained is anyone’s guess. The poster might have gotten away with it if she’d neglected to tag everyone within a 50 mile radius, but thanks to the thousand million ensuing comments of “LOL so true,” the entire network now knows that you are a worthless loser, you have the most irritating laugh ever, and you are destined to die friendless and alone. Oh, and you apparently smell bad. At least, that’s what you’re able to decipher by reading between the profanity-laden, grammatically incorrect lines—typical for a rant, the note has an unnaturally high percentage of words beginning with “f.” If you read it out loud over the radio, ninety percent of the content would have to be bleeped out.
In many ways, the Net has made our lives a little more convenient, a little more efficient. But in exchange for the opportunity to reinvest large quantities of our time, we forfeit many aspects of our privacy. Contrary to popular belief, there is no digital safeguard to your online posts, a semipermeable membrane able to magically filter out worthy readers from the billions of people browsing the Web. If it’s online, someone can download it, cut and paste it into a word processor, or send the link to the FBI. If you have access to it, so will anyone else with a keyboard and a brain. If you don’t want certain people reading it, don’t post it.
******
It must have been aggravating to send a hate letter in the eighteenth century. It was bad enough if you lived in a separate colony, for the postal carriage was subject to any number of delays: foul weather, exhausted horses, even attacks by highway robbers. If you lived overseas, you had to wait weeks, even months, for the ship to pull into the appropriate port, and then an additional few days for the letter to reach its intended destination. You were stuck impatiently twiddling your thumbs and hoping that the scoundrel received your latest correspondence, which would inform him, in the most courteous manner possible, “With all due respect, sir, you are most abhorrent,” or some equally polite insult. But while you couldn’t guarantee that your letters would arrive in a timely manner, you could be certain that your private feud would remain just that—private.
Two hundred years later, it’s an entirely different story. In this modern era of technology, it takes a mere fraction of a second to click “send” and share your innermost thoughts with the rest of the world. The Net is at your disposal, enabling you to instantly connect and communicate with anyone you choose—granting you an astounding amount of influence. Upload a well-timed YouTube video, gain a few million hits, and you’re well on your way to starting a new political movement. Post a few outrageous, strategically worded Tweets, and you’re the catalyst of a national uproar. It may seem a harmless enough practice…until you’re on the receiving end.
One day, you innocently log onto your G-mail account and discover an urgent message from your buddy, informing you that someone wrote a very detailed note about you on Facebook, and you should probably go check it out. Intrigued, you sign on to the website, already envisioning a heartfelt essay about what an inspirational and life-changing individual you are (after all, what else could it be about?). You’re flattered—at least, until you read the title: “God, I hate this person!”
Well, that seems a bit harsh.
Your name isn’t mentioned anywhere in the note, which would indicate that you weren’t actually supposed to read it, but how this anonymity could possibly be maintained is anyone’s guess. The poster might have gotten away with it if she’d neglected to tag everyone within a 50 mile radius, but thanks to the thousand million ensuing comments of “LOL so true,” the entire network now knows that you are a worthless loser, you have the most irritating laugh ever, and you are destined to die friendless and alone. Oh, and you apparently smell bad. At least, that’s what you’re able to decipher by reading between the profanity-laden, grammatically incorrect lines—typical for a rant, the note has an unnaturally high percentage of words beginning with “f.” If you read it out loud over the radio, ninety percent of the content would have to be bleeped out.
In many ways, the Net has made our lives a little more convenient, a little more efficient. But in exchange for the opportunity to reinvest large quantities of our time, we forfeit many aspects of our privacy. Contrary to popular belief, there is no digital safeguard to your online posts, a semipermeable membrane able to magically filter out worthy readers from the billions of people browsing the Web. If it’s online, someone can download it, cut and paste it into a word processor, or send the link to the FBI. If you have access to it, so will anyone else with a keyboard and a brain. If you don’t want certain people reading it, don’t post it.