There is a rumor going around that the Internet will save you time and money and make you a more productive person. That you are reading this website at all indicates that you likely realize this claim is about as true as Michael Eisner declaring he has no ill will for DreamWorks and Jeffrey Katzenberg. Just in case you have stumbled upon this page by accident — which, when you think about it is once again all the proof I need — and still cling to the notion that your Internet Service Provider is a link to higher productivity, allow me to disabuse you of it here. You’ll thank me for it.
Now, first, I must admit, I have a somewhat unusual schedule in that many days, I have no schedule at all. I am a graduate student, and thus I spend much of my time in what is referred to as ‘independent research.’ Those of you without graduate experience probably understand this phenomenon better by its more popular name, ‘goofing off until the last minute and then cramming.’ I just do this on a recurring basis, so that the last minute seems to arrive every two days or so, and I often have to combine the cramming and the goofing off into one activity. Also, I frequently check entire shelves out of the library. But we have already lost sight of our main topic, as you should expect from a student of the liberal arts like myself. (If you are frustrated by this digression, consider it direct evidence of our central thesis — the Internet wastes time.)
One thing that I will sometimes do in the course of my day is to take care of tasks that my wife, burdened as she is by a real job, is unable to handle. So on the evening of Thursday, November 15th, I attempted to purchase movie tickets for the following night via the Internet. (If, given that date, you are unaware of what film we wished to see, I must congratulate you on your recent return from Alpha Centauri.) After several aborted attempts, in which my computer informed me it could not find the page I was looking for — it had been there a minute ago, but then another computer tried to ‘put it in a safe place’ or something — I finally hit the button marked ‘finish’ and went to bed.
I woke up to discover that ‘finish’ really meant ‘give up,’ because my computer now told me that I had not, in fact, purchased any tickets. Had to do the whole thing over again. Except now the thing really was being difficult. See, I have a code which allegedly entitles me to waive the surcharge that comes from buying movie tickets online. You input this code, then hit enter, and you are taken to a page that asks for your credit card. Only the credit card page tells you that you entered no code. You can go back and enter the code again, but the credit card page will insist that there is no code. It’s like that scene in The Matrix where someone gives Keanu Reeves a piece of mind-altering, reality-expanding advice and Keanu stares back in an intent yet uncomprehending way. You know which one I mean.
Now, the thing is, the reason I was ordering tickets online in the first place is a) the AMC Theater chain does not, to my knowledge, work with the Moviefone people to let me do this over the phone and b) everyone under the age of twelve — and half those over the age of twelve — were trying to get tickets for Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. So each time I did this little type-the-code-there-is-no-code dance, another flargin’ show sold out and I had to try again. I spent an hour doing this before giving up, spending the rest of my day being late for appointments, and deciding in the end to just try again the next day. (We did, and the movie’s quite nifty, but that is neither here nor there.)
Of course, part of the problem may have been that, in another window, I was trying to sort out my finances. See, one result of that whole ‘independent research’ thing is that I produce lots and lots of paper. My printer often just gives up from the strain of it all, and would unionize in a heartbeat in my little anthropomorphic dream world. So I try to keep a lot of my records online, which means I have lots of things set up by which I can send money out or (occasionally) receive it with a few keystrokes. ‘Ah ha!’ you say. ‘Surely this is a convenience that saves time and money!’
Let’s think about this for a moment, though. Pattie once discussed how credit cards make it easier for us to spend money, because we don’t actually have to give up cash at the moment of purchase. Imagine how easy it is when you don’t even have to take out the credit card. Just type in an e-mail address — say, dave@conspicuousconsumption.com — and a password — like cash4unot4me — and voila! Despite being unwilling to spend an hour at the local mall because it’s too time consuming, you’ve spent two or three browsing pages at eBay buying things you would pick up and then put down at the store. (Or, if you’re me, you would pick them up, put them down, pick them again, walk to the checkout, turn around, put them back down, walk away, come back, compare the original item with a slightly different item, pick up the second item, put it down, pick up the original item, then put it down and walk sheepishly from the store when your wife gives you a look. My point remains.)
I have not discussed e-mail, which allows me to stay in touch with friends all over the country and field numerous lucrative offers to ‘Work from HOME’ from people who don’t realize I already do that, or Instant Messaging, which allows me to engage in 30-minute-long exchanges of puns centering on meteorological themes. This is not something I would put in my planner. I would not call someone up and say, “Hey, let’s have a conversation, in which every sentence incorporates a meteorological term, whose sole point is to discuss our ability to incorporate meteorological terms into sentences.” But I do it because of the darned Internet, and then I look at the clock and it’s four in the morning and I have to get to bed because I have another day of intensive research ahead of me. Speaking of which, I should be going. But before I do, remember.
There is no code.