Ever since that day last summer when The Boss made us give back our dusty old-reliable computers (which he replaced with shiny new ones we didn’t know how to use), I’ve been a fledgling Net Nerd.
In the world of sports, that’s a good thing to be, you know. Everywhere you look nowadays, there’s a www-dot-slash-com for you. You can buy sports stuff nobody else wants! You can sell sports stuff you don’t want! You can chat! Pretty neat, huh?
Well, ever since we started using computers that actually compute, instead of the ones that just sit around, whir, puff, pant, and exude the smell of burning dust, I’ve been keeping a watchful eye on that Internet thingie.
Forget about the naughty sites. Forget about the violent sites. Forget about the bomb-making sites.
Keep an eye on those sports sites, folks. They’re scary.
Up until now, I kept quiet. That’s because up until now, I didn’t actually own a computer of my own. Last week, that changed, and I’ve got some things to say.
First, in the vernacular of Web citizens everywhere, IM GETING VARY SIC OF U SAYINNG BAD THNGS ABOOT MEE ON YOUR MASSSAGE BORDS!!
OK. Glad I got that off my chest.
So, why am I speaking up now? Glad you asked. It’s like this (this is completely hypothetical, mind you): Complaining about things that exist on the Internet when you don’t actually own a computer is roughly akin to … hmm … how do I explain this? OK. It’s like poking fun at a NASCAR Winston Cup driver when you’ve never sat behind the wheel yourself. And I would never, ever do either.
But as the proud and loving papa of a slower-than-a-dead-dog hand-me-down microprocessing device, things are different all of a sudden.
Now I can do the same thing everybody else with a modem, a mouse, and a computer can do: I can make a fool of myself … I mean, I can take advantage of my First Amendment rights to free speech.
So far, I’ve visited super-useful message boards that have shared vital information like this: Which players are prisses, and which ones are crybabies, and which ones wear the wrong clothes to school, and which ones are hated by their entire towns.
These sites, by the way, are talking about Maine high school kids.
And that’s where it gets scary. This isn’t just “my team is better than your team” stuff. Net boneheads think they’re funny when they post messages about the alleged sexual orientation of teenagers. … and site administrators count the hits as messages pile up.
Log on, click a few times, and you, too, can find sites that get most of their traffic from mouse-manipulating morons looking to start a Web-war.
Now, you may be asking yourself how what happens online is any different from what you read in your local sports pages every Saturday. Words are words, right?
Here’s how: Except in very rare situations, when you read something in a newspaper or a magazine, and you disagree, it’s very simple to figure out who to blame. We ‘fess up by putting our names at the top of the story. Sometimes we even add our e-mail addresses at the end. Then we duck.
On the Internet, there’s no such accountability, and the result is the kind of lies and guesses that would land a journalist in court.
In cyberspace, you can be whoever you want to be. Not surprisingly, everyone claims to be a genius with indisputable inside info, even if they can’t spel there wurds very gud.
Every village idiot has the “right” to express opinions that would, in some circles, be grounds for a right cross to the snout.
Some day, when technology advances to the point where a cyber-smack is really an option, perhaps the mean-spirited, anonymous Net nonsense will end.
Until then, surf safely. And wisely. See you online.
John Holyoke is a NEWS sportswriter. You can e-mail him at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net
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