The Internet has been described as a 128-lane highway (pardon the metaphor) with 6000 on-ramps at each intersection, but no off-ramps. This could present plenty of trouble with getting off the road. Fortunately, many of us can find a way to pull off the road somewhere, and walk back to reality. Some, however, are gullible enough to listen to Al Gore, and actually believe his buzzword-laden commentary, and keep driving and driving and driving... Until they become stuck to the road, with their car permanently stuck in first gear.
The clinically recognized signs of Net addiction sound surprisingly like those of alcohol, tobacco or other such addictions. The Net community has different ideas of what these warning signs are. Perhaps the best example of this is Netaholics Anonymous, a page that, other than relentlessly trying to sell you a t-shirt, provides a rather large list of symptoms of Net addiction submitted by various netsurfers. (While on that site, don't miss 101 uses for AOL disks.)
Despte the seemingly large number of symptoms of Net addiction, it's really a simple matter of telling if you're addicted to the net. 18-hour log-ons are a start. Personally, my logons never exceed 5 hours, due to Isomedia's customer policies that recommend just that. One other list suggested this sign: If you suddenly get disconnected and find that you can't get a dialtone, and after you stumble to the front door and find a giant pile of mail with several "final demand" notices from (Insert your (least) favorite phone company here), the last one dated six weeks ago, you may be a net addict.
For some people, it doesn't stop at the Internet. These pour souls have had their lives taken over by technology in general. These people can't go anywhere without something that can (and does) beep, ring, or make some other alarming sound without warning. These are the people that can actually program their VCRs. These people can't look at some technobabbling nethead's weekly Internet column without e-mailing thousands of their friends (who they have never seen face-to-face) telling them about it (hint, hint...)
You may know one of these poor souls. Heck, you may even be one of these poor souls. For those of you who wear a pager or cellular phone like a ball and chain, or those of you who frequently correct the salespeople at electronics stores, or those of you who actually read this column weekly, I have some advice. Seek professional help*. Try to remeber how to use a pencil and paper (this should be easy for those of you unlucky enough to have to carry around a Newton) and write some poetry. If you can't find the keyboard on your pencil, go find the nearest looney bin and check in.