12 October 2003 The Five Levels Of Internet Surfing There are five levels of internet surfing. Six if you live in Encino. Level One. You log on to check your mail. You think, 'aw hell, since I'm here I might as well take a look at that site my mate created on Geocities. After all I've got half an hour to pass before my favourite tv programme starts.' Two hours later and you've forgotten all about the television. At this point in time you are trying to design your own website on Geocities. You're late for work the following day because you sat up on the net until five in the morning. Level Two. A week later. You check your site stats and guestbook every ten minutes. Realising your hit counter is only creeping up because of your own visits you wonder how you can get some visitors to your site. At this point a little devil pops up on your shoulder and whispers, 'maybe you should register for some forums'. Dirty dishes are piling up in your sink and they're beginning to smell. Level Three. A month later and your site has been abandoned. You have no time to update it because you are involved in flame wars with all the people you have met on the forums. At this point you have learned to touch type and have switched to broadband. It has been a fortnight since you had a bath and the only food you're eating is whatever the local pizza company can deliver. During an MSN conversation one of your online buddies suggests you all start your own forum because even though you've only met online you're all going to be friends forever - right? The forum lasts exactly a week before you're at each other's throats and filing complaints with ISPs about everyone else's behaviour. You're so busy you haven't noticed your cat has left home and moved in with the neighbours. Level Four. Six months later. The only time you've left the house recently was to visit the doctor and optician because you keep getting sore eyes and really, really bad headaches. You local council informs you that your home is now classed as a hazard to public health so you write them an email and tell them to get stuffed. The last time you paid the pizza delivery guy by cheque you signed it with your internet handle instead of your real name and the closest you've gotten to being laid in months was a slightly flirtatious chat with a guy from Belgium who approached you on AIM. At this point you begin to reply to Nigerian scam emails and have the nagging feeling you need a bigger penis, even though you are female. Level Five. A year later. You have built your own computer system and are running it on Linux. The devil jumped off your shoulder two months ago saying: "Uh, it's been fun but it's getting a bit ripe round here. Besides, I've got a brunch meeting with Bill Gates to discuss our new contract." You now weigh 700 pounds and the height of your social activity is posting messages to newsgroups complaining that your life is on a downward spiral. At this point, cold realisation begins to set in. You slowly raise yourself from your chair and walk to your front door and as the daylight sears into your sensitive eyes you chant the mantra so many internet addicts have repeated over the years: "I'm going to switch off the computer and go for a long walk. But first, I'll just have one last check of my email....." With apologies to Larry Miller
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