Leaving this world

Perhaps sometime last week I read William Saletan's article on occupying virtual worlds. The article summarized the story of a Korean couple--heavy Internet users--who met online, got together, and had a sickly baby. The couple continued to play online games at Internet cafes, leaving the baby alone at home for most of the day most days. They even had another virtual baby online--one that was not sickly and was everything the couple wanted. One day, they came home to find their real baby dead.

Saletan argues that while the couple may have been culpable for the death of their real child, the increasing power of the virtual worlds we create cannot be underestimated. Every time we check these virtual worlds get better and better, and all the time it gets easier and easier to be drawn into them and to wish to stay in them. And this effect is not limited to MMORPGs and other video games; he says, "Every time you answer the phone in traffic, squander your work day on YouTube, text a colleague during dinner, or turn on your TV to escape your kids, you're leaving this world."

The plain truth of this assertion was apparent to me when I first heard it, but then last Saturday, after my tutoring appointment, I decided to stick around for a while before driving to my next destination. I fired up the web browser on my mobile phone and started to read articles (funnily enough the majority of my time was spent on Slate). When I ran out of articles to read, I decided to begin my drive. At first, I wondered why I felt so drained--I felt as if I traveled hundreds of miles to get where I was. Then I realized, in a way, I kind of did.

Song in my head: Matisyahu, "One Day".