Where do we spend the most of our time? Where do we go to hang out? Where do we go to procrastinate? The place we nowadays spend most of our time (in particular time, we’re supposed to spend elsewhere) is the internet. It’s capital, the multilayered, hyperlinked metropolis Linksville is where we get lost when we try to hide from an assignment that just won’t get easier and where we take refuge when our brain is unable to hold a thought for more than five seconds, because it has been twisted and wrenched with information and arguments so important they have lost all meaning to us. Linksville does not have a grid that makes navigation as easy as counting numbers or saying the alphabet. It has neither core nor borders to limit our movements which are part exhilarating free fall and part effortless floating.
Entering through the familiar portals of our favorite sites, we soon find ourselves on the zig-zagging paths 56 clicks removed from where we started and seven new tabs apart from where we wanted to go. Surrounded by domes of data, walking under arches of digitized information, we almost never confront dead ends; our browser’s return-button being only the encouragement to go on with our explorations, knowing that our steps are safely stored in its memory. With an apologetic look to the spiral arrow, we move on, irresistably pulled forward by the next hyperlink, the next layer of references and background information. With every click, a whole new dimension of potential knowledge opens up, never fully manifesting itself in any comprehensible shape or form. Bits and pieces of information emerge from the maze of streets, alleys, roads and avenues in Linksville,holding the promise of becoming knowledge, but fading back into meaningless do quickly, they never truly fulfill their promise. But that’s quite alright, we can always come back here and check it in more detail. Soon. Right after I finished the paper I’ve been hiding from. The paper that I needed this one fact for, which was why I came here in the first place.