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The diary of a 27 year old girl who's working on her doctoriate in physics in Oslo, Norway.

Saturday, August 30, 2003

Hi.

I've never been a fan of the Internet. It's strange to me, like when a business that manufactures weapons hang art on their office walls. It's inconsistent. The web is fillled with clean and stream-lined information that fails to describe or even recognize the fact that if the Internet has a soul, it must be pure black. It strikes me often, when I read these harmless webpages, that it feels like they are all trespassing; like they are using tools and media originally designed in the name of dishonesty and madness.

At first I wrote my journal with a pen, and at that time it was personal and increasingly pointless. As I slowly came to the conclusion that I would never read the journal from its beginning, that it was impossible for me to even skip back a page to see what I wrote the day before, my writing deteriorated. I started jotting down unrelated keywords just to ease my own conscience, but there was never any incentive to make it legible or logical, so in the end it was all nonsense. As it's vital that my journal remains readable to future generations, my friend, K.O., suggested I get an online journal instead. "The world has become so fluid now," he said, "that people enjoy participating in eachother's lives. There are no set borders of intimacy in this new age."

I find this premise fascinating for a number of reasons. Intimacy cannot exist without borders, clearly, so either we must define our entire social system as intimate, or we must concede it is a term with no meaning. Either way, the word will have to be removed from our vocabularies.

Though these are attractive theories, I'm leaning towards the simple (and romantic?) explanation that intimacy is a exclusively physical concept. Its borders can't be breached along wires and on webpages, so nothing we say on the Internet is considered personal information. That's why it is simpler. I could be lying, or I could be telling the truth, and since none of you can ever see my eyes, none of you will know anything except for what I tell you.

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