An Indulgent Rant on Why I Hate the Internet

As I get older I notice I have less and less inclination to spend time on the Internet. I've reduced my time to using it as a research tool and research starting spot, a place to buy books and other things I can't get in my hometown, and as a source of news I have to cross check to get an idea of the real story. I pop in on Facebook to keep up with friends, but seldom interact. I much prefer the friendlier confines of Ravelry.

I also use it to look up recipes, since physical cookbooks only have a few recipes I want. I hate spending big money on a special cookbook to find there's really nothing I want to cook from it. Amazon's Look Inside feature is no guarantee the recipes don't require 'Essence of Peacock' oil, or a whole durian fruit in all its stinky glory.

One thing I've come to hate about recipe blogs and other sites are the continual pop-ups, moving ads, and self playing videos. Let me peruse the site before shoving a "Subscribe to my Newsletter" pop-up in my face 4 seconds after I land. Better yet, make the link prominent at the side or top. I'll find it if I like what you offer. I stop self playing videos. News sites are the worst with this. The constantly twirling sidebar ads make me crazy. Popovers are the absolute worst, tricking you into clicking on them as you go to click on a website link, because they load late in order to screw you over.

 Everything screams, LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME!

I don't look. I've trained myself to ignore the side bars and ads in the middle of a story. I mute my computer, stop the self playing ads, and close the popups. All without taking in what they are advertising. It can be done. I have no idea what was advertised on the sidebar of the NY Times today. It could have been something I'm actually interested in, courtesy of tracking cookies following me around the Internet. (They are insidious, even if you have blockers turned on.) But NO. I don't care to see them.

"Think of the poor sites, they need the advertising money!" comes the whine. I sympathize with running a website. It's expensive. But it doesn't have to be so in your face. I will look at static ads that don't bleed my eyeballs. I will listen to a plea from a site asking me to use their Amazon link to buy something. But no twirly, bossy, whining ads. Just say no. Your ads fail anyhow, since I ignore them. And I refuse to feel guilty. And I won't click on them.

After so much of this intrusion, I've reduced the places I go for my information, ideas and shopping. I haven't missed any one of them. I use the browsers that block the most pop-ups and auto-playing. When the websites come to their senses and stop the overly obnoxious, intrusive stuff, I'll pay more attention. It's like back in the 90's, when everyone used blinking type on their personal (and some professional) websites. That went away fast as people said "No more".

I choose the way I want to use the Internet, although advertising tries to choose for me. So I ignore. My small way of fighting back. Sure, it's like spitting in the ocean, but a person has to start somewhere, and take a stand. Is this the hill I die on? Today, it sure feels like it.

The Unbearable Agony of Dial Up Connections

Yes, I've been Missing In Action, but there was a good reason. I lost my DSL connection, and it took them a week to figure out it wasn't my modem or interior phone lines. So my ISP contacted Qwest to get them to check the exterior lines. And something is wrong. And Qwest is mighty reluctant to fix it, because it involves effort or something. About this time it was 9 days without any Internet, and I was Not Happy. So my ISP gave me a dial up connection while they slug it out with the evil phone empire.


I may come out of this rather twitchy. If not from the antique dial up sound, as it scratches and whines its way to some pathetic connection speed, to the fact that I have to load Gmail in basic HTML, and can't download music, do research, let alone watch Hulu. Who knew so much of the interesting parts of my life were tied to a fast connection?


I've also discovered my 17 inch laptop is great for doing artwork and watching movies on, not so great when tethered to a phone cord and propped up on my knees. It's like having a perpetual 7 pound paperweight. Don't even get me started on the trip to the library last weekend to use their Internet. From the plastic wrapped keyboards to the coughing, hacking drunk next to me, my inner Monk was severely traumatized.


I'm up to Day 12 with no DSL. I keep telling myself there are people in third world countries without any Internet... until I get contacted by a friend who's presently living in one of those third world countries, and has a better connection than I did. Even with DSL. Is there such a thing as a third world state?


On the bright side, I've mopped my Corgi footprinted kitchen floor three times, and carded and spun a whole bunch of wool, including a Leicester/Alpaca/Corgi blend I plan on making into a pair of winter mittens. And I could always check my personal email from work, so I guess I'll have to stop muttering about the IT staff. I even got a bunch of books from my TBR pile read, and wrote one essay on personal mysticism and The Cloud of Unknowing, so it hasn't been all bad. Suffice to say, though, if I want to be cut off from the Internet, I prefer to do it on my own terms. Which means knowing I can plug back in and not be able to knit 12 rows on my socks while I wait for the little blue "You are connected to the rest of the world at pathetically laughable speeds" emblem to appear in my tray.It's shaped like a turtle. Lying on its back. Comatose. Or at least catching some really intense Zs.