World Wide Web of Confusion

Fifty million registered users of MySpace, with roughly fifteen million of those being in the 'under 18' age group, and I have to wonder: What are we missing?

I have a friend that might call this the slow and painful degradation of society.

But, before I can nod my head in agreement, I must make a 'caught with my hand in the cookie jar' confession: I am one of those fifty million users. I am MySpace registered.

Of course, I can explain- my registration was merely a means to an end, a portal into the online photo albums of friends. And, I needed that entry, darnit, to answer the all important question thrown at me one day- "I met this guy on MySpace. Do you think he's cute?"

And, so, I typed in a few personal details, clicked enter, and thus joined a growing, and decidedly unexclusive, sub-culture of people who are screaming at the top of their internet lungs "Hey world, this is My Space!"

And, oh what a space it is!

It's the out-pouring of a generation (or two) of people saying "Look at me" "Hear me" "I've got something to say"

Now, I won't give in to my mind's tendency to narrow-- this is not about MySpace-- or even the hundred or so like websites. MySpace, in and of itself, is a largely innocuous enterprise (with millions of dollars in adspace sold, an affiliated record label, and an affiliated production company, MySpace is, undeniably, an enterprise)

This is about the dawn of a new era of human relationships and communication-- relationships with the foundation formed via cyberspace.

Online journals and personal pages have attracted the attention of the newest breed of 'damn-the-man, screw-the-system' young people. Young people that aren't in the streets, pumping their fists in demand of equal rights or fair trade practices, but, rather, in the privacy and solitude of their homes, bucking the societal rules of meeting, greeting and interacting with others.

Our intrinsic yearning to be heard and understood has been met with a platform on which to do so. Or, at least, a platform on which to give it a good solid try. With the elevation of that platform comes the illusion of intimacy. And, as it turns out, intimacy was what we were all clamoring for in the first place.

Too bad we've barked up the wrong tree.

Of course, this need for human connectedness is not a new phenomenon. This generation is not the first generation of emotional fornicators. In fact, when man ate of the forbidden fruit, and changed his relationship with his God, humans began their scramble for intimacy.

Fast forward to present day: We are still, very much, in 'bed' together.

And, I am not off the hook on this one, I'm as guilty as the next person, maybe even more so-- but I have to stop and question the impact that the internet's bottomless 'wealth' of personal connections has on souls that are neglecting the One connection that we so desperately need.

It all begs the question- In this online quest for intimacy generated by a 'me' centered society, who's the god of my space?