A net quitter walks into a hacker convention

"What else are you going to do? Cut a hole through a sheet and fuck through it? Do you have a telephone you can crank up? And how are you going to get around? Let me guess, you're gonna use a wheelbarrow."

So answered the guy with the cherry red hair and beer stained t-shirt when I told him about what I'm contemplating.

I was hanging out at the 11th annual Toorcon convention, a gathering of hackers and security experts held, rather conventionally, at San Diego's Convention Center. Topics this year included modeling cyber threats, exploiting an Apple firmware update and why black hat hackers always win.

My friend's boyfriend was a speaker, and we stopped by the reception because I wanted to see the culture, she wanted to see her man, and we both wanted the free crab cakes rumored to be at the refreshment table. Those ended up being really gross, but the wild mushroom and goat cheese eggrolls were most munchable.

This guy and his friends were at the beginning of a power hour, which makes me wish I'd waited until shot 59 to get their reactions.

We didn't stick around that long, though, since the conference was going on all weekend and I was going to drop in on some sessions on Sunday.

Then, things took a turn for the worse. My friend's boyfriend broke his leg and he's now in the hospital. She's been by his side the whole time. The hackers have been coming and going from the hospital, offering their airline miles and couches and anything he needs to extend his trip or make his stay more comfortable. I missed my chance to learn about their technology and subculture. And I was reminded of the old journalism adage: Never assume. That the crab cakes will be yummy, that hackers are out to mess things up for others or that things will ever go according to plan.

Seeking a why

I got two sobering emails from two friends who often present the voice of reason.

From IGC:

 ...the question is whether the negative repercussions are worth it - -dissertation, email, plane booking, job searching, newspapers, etc.   I think it’s a great idea.   One option would be to limit it to 15 minutes a day, for absolutely necessary things, like emailing your professor.  Or 1 hour once a week or something.

and OD:

1. What is the point of this experiment? What would you be accomplishing by staying off of the internet?

2. I think that this might be crippling and harmful to your career. I'm not quite sure where the future of journalism lies, but I think that it will have something to do with the internet. I am saying this out of ignorance because I don't know anything about journalism, but isn't the internet helpful in getting in touch with sources, doing background research, getting your pieces published in on-line format, etc?

3. I think that not using the internet would be a big imposition on [AR], who presumably would have to post things on-line for you and take care of many of your other internet needs.

4. Not using the internet would make communication with others very difficult. Maybe your friends and family would understand, but potential employers or contacts might find this very annoying and may not consider you for opportunities because they will be forced to go too far out of their way to contact you. (Maybe you wouldn't want to work for these people, anyway, but so much gets decided/done via e-mail these days- not everyone is into picking up the phone).

5. Maybe you could just give up some aspects of the internet. Like give up Facebook or web-surfing for no reason. Maybe you could just use the internet for work and for e-mail.

So far, two ways to work around the logistical and professional difficulties of this proposition. First, moderate -- do it halfway, by staying online for just 10 minutes per day, or one hour per week, or only for work related research -- and second, cease and desist.

I just don't know if I can moderate. And just the anxiety that I may not be able to cut back to only 10 mintues a day or an hour per week -- not knowing if I can resist the urge to check Facebook once I'm on my work email account -- means I have a problem.

OD asks the same thing I've been asking myself: What is the point?

What would make it worthwhile? If I give up time, access, convenience, then I would need to gain something at least comparable in exchange. Time spent on different activities, a different type of access, a new definition of convenience.

Here's what it comes down to: Why am I thinking about giving up the internet for a year? I need to understanding the why before I can tackle the when and the how.

[image via pashnit]

As we walk from Target to the parking lot

My mother, this evening, as we walk from Target to the parking lot after buying Halloween candy, telling me about her day:

"I worked on the garage for most of the afternoon, but I didn't get around to it until later than I planned. I woke up and sat at the computer and, you know how it is, once you sit down it's hard to get up, you start looking at emails, then one thing, another, and half the days is gone."

"Internet addict!" I answer.

She shakes her head in feigned shock and then gives a rueful nod.

"But not like you," she adds.

My mother doesn't know about this idea, yet. I wonder what she would think.

ps: I just went to thesaurus.com to find the word rueful. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I needed to find it by looking up "guilty." It took 2 seconds. So much easier than getting up, picking up a book, flipping through it, scanning the page... ughhhhhh.

[image by amin tabrizi]

Another dose of doubt, and a seal of approval

Tonight, in in the car, on the way to a cafe where I was going to plug away at the dissertation and AR was going to decorate some graphs about with strange symbols for a deadline tomorrow (that's about all I understand about his job: he studies machines, makes graphs about them, then goes around he world to convince people his graphs are better than theirs), I asked him again why he was concerned about this project.

The answer, it turns out, has nothing to do with the manifold ways in which I would certainly end up burdening, bothering, badgering and otherwise bedevling him by going offline for a year.

Instead, he was worried that if I shut myself off from the world, the sacrifice wouldn't be worthwhile in terms of lost time, opportunities and income.

As usual, he has a good point.

But then, at the cafe, I got this email from NLJ, my sister's boyfriend and the one who suggested this project in the first place. I sent him a link earlier to the previous posts, with this subject line:

my new blog. it's still totally under wraps. what do you think??

 His reply:

Roxi-

I think this could be a huge hit! I think you need to do it. Set up your email for an automatic response explaining your position(i.e. I am w/o internet for 365 days, you can write me at the following address, fax me here, or call me here). Bring back the hand written note in full force. Your blog posts would have to be written on a typewriter and transcribed online by someone allowed to use the internet(i.e.a group of confidants that would assist you(FYI, I'm in). 
You could explain the inconveniences, impossibilities, frustration, joy of being disconnected(Ok, that's a little far fetched, but who knows).....there's just too much good stuff to write about.  I see a book deal. DISCONNECT!!!!

Of any assistance,

N

He also has a good point. If someone else was daft enough to go offline for a year, I admit that I would want to read about it. I would definitely stare at her, study her, with that special mix of fascination and repulsion we reserve for the most opaque and senseless of creatures. I'd swear I could never be that person, never like that person. And then I'd bookmark the site and check it every day.

If stinky people won't stop me, what will?

I confessed the idea to my FIC (Fabulous Italian Cousin) on google chat today.

Her reaction:

12:38 PM FIC: AHHHHHHHHHHHH

  R U CRAZY????????????????

 me: yes

  but probably not that crazy

  nu stiu... [That's "I dunno" in Romanian, our common language]

  i'm just flirting with the idea...

12:39 PM FIC: wow

  ok...

Then she made a few great points. Including: I wouldn't resist. Also, what would be the point? I have way more to gain by using the internet -- time, convenience, access -- than by not using it.

She concluded by inviting me to stay at my aunt's house, in rural Italy, for a few months. It's a 20 minute drive from the nearest internet point, a cramped, dank place inhabited by strange creatures who never shower. My reply:

me: i've done it before: stinky french people in a dark unventilated moist room, just to read cnn.com

If putting up with stinky french people in a dark unventilated moist room just to read crappy quality news in the middle of the City of Light is not a sign I should quit the internet, don't know what else is.

My boyfriend reacts

I told my boyfriend about this idea, and he had mixed reactions. Not sure which approach is most comforting:

1. Skepticism

"You'll never do it. You wouldn't last a week. A day."

2. Enthusiasm

"You realize that no internet means no email. No Hulu. No checking blog stats. You're going to go through some crazy withdrawal symptoms. This is going to be fantastic!"

3. Pragmatism

"Would you find a job that doesn't need internet access, or how would you make a living?"

"I would probably try to sell my dispatches as regular feature to a website or magazine. I wonder if Slate or Wired would go for it."

"Definitely! And for all your other communications--"

"I'd get a P.O. box. And probably send out a lot of emails first, to set things up for the next year. Let people know, schedule things in advance, automate. And write a lot of letters."

"That's what people used to do."

"Wow."

4. Gleeful Sadism

"You realize that if you actually decide to do this, you can't cheat."

"Sure."

"No using your smartphone or borrowing someone's computer."

"Right."

"You'd have to give up having a cell phone."

"What? No I wouldn't. I'd just find a phone with no internet." (Funny how he slipped that in, don't you think? What did he think he'd get, 2 for 1?)

"Or I could disable the internet on your phone."

"That works too."

"And no peeking over my shoulder when I'm looking at your favorite sites."

"Come on. I can totally peek."

"No you can't."

"Yes I can. That's like telling someone who's quitting smoking not to inhale second hand smoke. That is totally legit."

"Nooooo."

"Oh my god. I can't tell if you want me to do this project so I actually quit the internet and become a better person and we spent more time together, or because you want to see me suffer."

Cryptic smile.

5. Ironically pointing out the irony.

"You can become homeless for a year."

"Why, you want to kick me out now?"

"No. It's another 'project.' It would be easier for you than quitting the internet."

"I see."

"Think about it. You go online to research how to go offline. Do you see the irony?"

6. Panic

"Wait. You can't expect me to read all your incoming emails. And I can't, like, read you all the NY Times headlines every hour and then let you pick articles for me to read out loud. I have to go to work. I have to do laundry. I have to see people. I need to sleeeeep!"

7. Protective Pity

"You won't be able to do this. You won't last." This isn't harsh or taunting. It is uttered with the compassionate resignation of a doctor giving the prognosis for a terminal condition, knowing his patient won't believe it. The doctor knows, and he's sorry to know. Wishes it weren't so. For the patient's sake, and for his as the one who'll be there, watching.

8. Mortal Fear

As he holds my hands in his: "If you do this, suddenly that means you will be a lot more focused on me."

"Yeah. It's a good thing we have the internet in our lives now."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I wonder if we'd survive if one of us couldn't check email or read the news? Would we drive one another crazy? Like, if I can't go online, then you realize I'll come up to you, ask for your attention, ask you to go on a walk with me, ask you to check my blog stats for me, because it might have changed in the past 20 seconds since the last time I asked you to check. This year would be really hard on you."

His eyes widen, his cheeks flush. He drops my hands, crawls under our dining room table and adopts a fetal position.

He's right to be scared.

He's seen me struggle to spend 10 minutes away from my smartphone. He's gotten my frantic international calls when he's at a work conference. "Help!! I can't connect!! How do I reset the connection? Connect me please!" And he's seen me fall asleep on more nights than I care to admit, the open laptop on my tummy, mouse arrow still resting on the New Yorker story I was about to click on before I zoned out...

Also, I should point out that despite his hesitations here, my boyfriend has supported and encouraged many of my previous wacky endeavors, including a blog about something totally inconvenient, random last minute trips to places like Greece and Vegas, and more. Just so you don't get the wrong idea about him.

I just think he's a little... apprehensive.

Hell, freaked out. And I totally see his point. The idea of no internet for a year scares me shitless. And if there's anyone who doubts, who sees the irony of blogging about not blogging, if if there's anyone who thinks I can't stay away from this keyboard, from this happy little screen, for more than a week -- and that's already pushing it -- it is me.

Which is why even claiming this blog name, even writing these first posts, is absurd. Because there's no way I can do it.

Give up the internet for a year?

Could I? Should I? Why the HELL would I???