the addiction idea

i do wonder sometimes if this Net addiction business ain't in the same class as electrosensitivity: that is, the psychosomatic one. sorry folks, but 30+ clinical studies with decent methodology say you're not allergic to electricity, and zero say you are - the fact that you're experiencing the symptoms nonetheless means you need to figure out what actually is causing them, pronto.
(there's an appropriate Randi insult here: You're so open-minded your brain has fallen out.)

i'm wondering if anyone's made a clinical case study out of any of these guys. i'd be really fucking interested to know the root cause of it - the Net's not heroin, it isn't physically or neurochemically addictive sitting on your arse all day cabled into your rig (and i say that from experience, believe me) - so what does make these guys keep coming back? what does 24-7 connection give them that it doesn't give me?

i'm no shrink - i don't know enough about people even to be an armchair one, even if i did possess any armchairs or the time to sit in them - so i can't begin to guess. but i'll be chuffed when someone does.

what i do know is this - the reports of the Beijing clinic all show the poor shites hooked up to drips, and the staff refused unanimously to tell reporters anything about the IV fluid. a nurse let slip to Wired in 2005 that the drips are meant to "rebalance the brain secretions", but after that, nothing.

i'm slightly skeptical as to the efficacy of this unknown medicine, if only because it's unknown. the secrecy surrounding it smells distinctly of woo; occam's razor is telling me it isn't the case that they've discovered a neurological root, isolated the neurochemical imbalance that's the heart of the problem, developed an IV solution that really does work on the imbalance and for some unknown reason refused to publish any data, make any international journals aware of the discovery or capitalise off it in any way whatsoever, including just making themselves look good...

in any case, i'm liking the 17" TVs and Pooh comforters. maybe i should just check into one of these places and find out for myself what the fuck's going on in there (assuming my country even has anything that panders to the addictions of technologically-literate scum such as myself).

if anyone wants me, i'll be in the local hospital, trying to get the NHS to prescribe me a T1 line.


Lepht