Language in the modern age, part 2 of 2

We, the children of the 1980s, are the first generation with the privilege of growing up with and on computers. The information and tools available on the Internet are as expansive as the concept of the superhighway itself. The web's offerings are virtually limitless [pun intended], and yet by enjoying its sheer accessibility, we are unknowingly imposing limitations upon ourselves. Indeed, computers are shaping the present, and their effects on the future may prove detrimental in ways no one predicted.

One would be hard-pressed to find a young adult who isn't in some way or another reliant on the Internet. Whether it be for research, commerce, or communication, the web is more than a convenience; it's a way of life. Though I hate to say it, there are certainly times when I don't know what I would do without the Internet. I am loath to admit how dependent I have become. It may not be rotting my brain entirely, but I'm pretty sure it's getting there.

One needn't enumerate the millions of ways that online services have made daily life simpler. From McLuhan's global village right down to a personal homepage, the fantastically liberating effects of the Internet are wondrously apparent.

The Internet has made communication easier and cheaper than it has even been before. People in different countries can meet in web chat rooms. College kids can instant message high school chums with whom they would otherwise lose touch. Grandparents can see pictures of their grandchildren growing up.

On the other side of the coin, the amenities of e-mail and messaging services are stripping today's youth of the practical experience they need to develop the social and communicative skills essential to succeed in life. Simply put, kids don't talk enough. The enhancement of digital communication poses a frightening threat to the future of verbal and physical interaction, and is degrading linguistic intelligence as we know it.

Face to face contact is a truly vital element in communication. When we fail to appreciate the value of unadulterated conversation, we deny ourselves access to the awesome capacities of human language, both spoken and implied.

With the facilities that we have at our fingertips -- literally and figuratively -- we are constantly finding ways around the hassle of actually talking to one another. But when did just talking become a hassle? It's a chicken-and-egg relationship: either somehow we decided that verbal expression is too often a waste of precious energy, or computers have made it obsolete. Whether or not we realize it, we are already suffering the consequences of this unfortunate upgrade.

Younger and younger are children donning Internet aliases, typing away to friends whom they may see within the hour. Rather than picking up a telephone, high schoolers will IM a classmate for the math homework. College students may save walking ten feet by sending a message to their neighbors in the next dorm room, or even to their own roommates -- or so I've been told.

All too often, personal contact is avoided with a simple click of a mouse button. One email, and voil? , you don't have to face your teacher/boss/ex-boyfriend, you name it.

Even flirting has gone digital. It's hard enough to read body language; innuendo and undertones do not translate well into HTML. A quick word of advice: if you like someone, you should at least call. I fear the consequences when the reproductive future of the race is threatened by a faulty modem.

But I digress. It is important to see that computers' communicative affront is working stealthily from the bottom up. Programs like Microsoft Word with their all-important spell-checkers are already attacking our youth's grasp of the English language. Grammar and spelling tests are obsolete when you can have Gates' engineers correct your papers for you.

Meanwhile, instant messaging spreads the damage by allowing, nay encouraging people to abandon their knowledge of spelling, capitalization and punctuation in the efforts of speed and in the name of lingo. "r u chillin w/ ppl 2nite?" is not a question, it's a travesty.

Expressing human emotion through the use of cartoon smiley faces -- which, I stress, have evolved from a merciless bastardization of the ever-underappreciated colon and parenthesis -- should be a compelling-enough warning sign that something is wrong. Unfortunately, the reverse is true, and they are being embraced as the next wave of Internet cool. Soon the painfully annoying little icons will have all but replaced our true visages. Between them and screen names, who we are online is quickly diverging from who we are in the real world.

But the Internet is by now intrinsically linked to what it is we consider the real world. Our lives are inextricably entwined with the inner workings of our personal computers. The whole notion of the world as we know it -- the elements, people and personalities -- is questioned by the addition of a new dimension. The Internet transcends time and space, and yet is just as real as either one. Thus, it comes to wonder whether we can any longer distinguish between the "real" world, and the world of the fiberoptic.

Of course, the metaphysics of the Internet is surely a topic under speculation already. The irony is -- I would venture to guess -- that most of the discussion is probably on the web itself. The real question is: is it spelled right?