Virtual me.

Today, I read this article from Julian Dibbell, a Wired editor, linked from this. When I wander onto her page from Wired, I find Regina Lynn’s approach fairly interesting, particularly as she usually addresses topics on the edge of those accepted in "polite company," even though I often disagree with her conclusions. I appreciate typically cunning and often sardonic intelligence as she addresses the underlying psychological, social, and, yes, spiritual concerns about cybersexuality.

As an interesting note, I find that even using that term here, on my personal blog, I feel a hesitance. We, the intellectual technophiles, the self-professed "geeks," (or, wanna-bes*, the students-of-all-things-pop-culture, are not supposed to talk about s**. It’s an intriguing disparity: on the one hand, if I run a discussion in my classroom on the Othello's contradictory obsession with and revulsion of his own sexuality, I should not blink an eye. My students and I can discuss the relative importance of lust in Dante's hierarchy of Hell in "The Inferno," or the social implications of the incest in Oedipus Rex without compunction, and I would blithely proceed through a lecture regarding the same-gender relationships in classical Greece. On the other hand, I am blushing even as I type this post.

Why do I, a former grad student and pseudo-intellectual (aspiring? one must have dreams!) experience a reluctance, surprisingly powerful, to even bring up the subject of Internet-assisted – and/or inspired – intimacy? Perhaps the rampant, yet socially and morally taboo, availability of online pornography has become the standard by which we measure all other forms of technological intimacy. Perhaps, instead, the very idea of that level of psychological sans the corporeal engenders a subtle aversion, a kind of “ick” factor concerning the intrinsic emotional vulnerability that anonymity provides along with an underlying social prohibition against intimacy of that same type, as well as a lurking distrust of the “realness” of the person on the other end. To take that another step, instant messaging, chat rooms, social networking sites, simulated life programs, even online RPG games provoke, even invigorate, a user’s desire to create a persona that either conforms to an ideal, or breaks their own inhibitions in RL (real life) and allows them to virtually experience a world beyond their current capabilities.

I realize that I may sound as if I’m venerating cybersex (blush), but I don’t think so; rather, I hope that you, my gentle readers, recognize my desire to examine my own reactions to and possible establish future expectations of behaviors that are no longer relegated to the edges of cyberspace. In fact, if one reviews the history of the Internet, one will realize that some of the initial public forays into cyberspace consisted of MUDs and MOO’s , which, as the initial link in this post clearly demonstrates, constituted not the expected technological exchanges or business-like emails, but instead provided forum for those persons seeking other personae. The most fascinating aspect of this social interaction, for me, coincides to a degree with my fascination for literature: the myriad**, purposes, and manifestations of those desires. For me, this conversation is not about sexuality at all, not in the lustful, adulterous, or perverse sense. This conversation constitutes just a few minutes pondering of the great big “how in the world did we get here, and what do we do with it?”

I think I’ll write a follow-up post later, as I don’t feel confident that I even addressed properly, much less actually answered to any degree, my own questions.

~~~
*On a humorous note, my MSWord spellcheck suggested a replacement for the slang term “wanna-bes": cannabis. Someone call “Above the Influence”: I have their next commercial in the bag.

**You decide.