Iată întrebarea! Am citit în ultimul timp cîteva articole despre relația dintre creierul omenesc și mega-memoria internetului. Se pare că Meșterul Google este unul dintre cei mai mari dușmani ai creativității. Așa credeam, dar se pare că problema este mult mai serioasă.

Deși sînt foarte mult timp în fața calculatorului mi-am găsit cîteva arme pentru a lupta împotriva lucrurilor descrise mai jos, deși simt că încă nu este destul:

1. studiez cîteva zeci de minute pe zi la un instrument muzical. De obicei chitară și studiul este de obicei după partitură.

2. Învăț la instrumente noi. În această perioadă, violoncel. La ce ajută asta? Sînt gata să vă explic cu drag.

3. memorez diferite lucurir, în special partituri, pentru a antrenarea memoriei muzicale și nu numai, memorez diferite texte, versete, citate. Mai nou încerc să memorez din nou numerele de telefon. E greu! Cu adevărat nu vîrsta ne tîmpește, ci noul mod de folosire a memoriei.

4. fac efort fizic. Am făcut anul trecut un sport, acum bicicleta, din cînd în cînd, călărie, o dată pe an parapante sau altceva de genul acesta și în fiecare zi aproape de ceva vreme, am revenit la dragostea din tinerețe, bicicleta.

5. petrec circa o oră în discuții față către față cu cei din familie, mai ales cu soția. Ea este cu totul deconectată de internet și este șansa mea la normalitate.

6. călătoresc mult. Călătoriile, vrei, nu vrei, te scot în viața reală.

7. iau masa cu prieteni în carne și oase. Am cîțiva prieteni foarte buni și un prieten, cel mai bun prieten, în afară de soția mea. Nu există săptămînă în care să nu ne bem cafeaua împreună și să nu ne dăm socoteală de viața spirituală, profesională, familie, etc. (accountability se cheamă!).

8. am un duhovnic. Nu întotdeauna este de acord cu ce fac eu, dar în general este un fel de Curte Constituțională, fără pontanări.

9. fac diferite lucruri practice: reparații instrumente muzicale, acum… restaurări biciclete, am trei pegasuri și un prophete  care stau în linie la restaurare. Am un mic atelier pe balcon. Se pare că va trebui să îl mut în altă parte.

10. Am un program pe ore și niște chestii foarte mortale pe peretele biroului. Se numesc dead-lines.

Să vedem ce spune articolul. Este grav!

Iată  AICI.

Before he launched the most viral video in Internet history, Jason Russell was a half-hearted Web presence. His YouTube account was dead, and his Facebook and Twitter pages were a trickle of kid pictures and home-garden updates. The Web wasn’t made “to keep track of how much people like us,” he thought, and when his own tech habits made him feel like “a genius, an addict, or a megalomaniac,” he unplugged for days, believing, as the humorist Andy Borowitz put it in a tweet that Russell tagged as a favorite, “it’s important to turn off our computers and do things in the real world.”

But this past March Russell struggled to turn off anything. He forwarded a link to “Kony 2012,” his deeply personal Web documentary about the African warlord Joseph Kony. The idea was to use social media to make Kony famous as the first step to stopping his crimes. And it seemed to work: the film hurtled through cyberspace, clocking more than 70 million views in less than a week. But something happened to Russell in the process. The same digital tools that supported his mission seemed to tear at his psyche, exposing him to nonstop kudos and criticisms, and ending his arm’s-length relationship with new media.

He slept two hours in the first four days, producing a swirl of bizarre Twitter updates. He sent a link to “I Met the Walrus,” a short animated interview with John Lennon, urging followers to “start training your mind.” He sent a picture of his tattoo, TIMSHEL, a biblical word about man’s choice between good and evil. At one point he uploaded and commented on a digital photo of a text message from his mother. At another he compared his life to the mind-bending movie Inception, “a dream inside a dream.”

On the eighth day of his strange, 21st-century vortex, he sent a final tweet—a quote from Martin Luther King Jr.: “If you can’t fly, then run, if you can’t run, then walk, if you can’t walk, then crawl, but whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward”—and walked back into the real world. He took off his clothes and went to the corner of a busy intersection near his home in San Diego, where he repeatedly slapped the concrete with both palms and ranted about the devil. This too became a viral video.

Afterward Russell was diagnosed with “reactive psychosis,” a form of temporary insanity. It had nothing to do with drugs or alcohol, his wife, Danica, stressed in a blog post, and everything to do with the machine that kept Russell connected even as he was breaking apart. “Though new to us,” Danica continued, “doctors say this is a common experience,” given Russell’s “sudden transition from relative anonymity to worldwide attention—both raves and ridicules.” More than four months later, Jason is out of the hospital, his company says, but he is still in recovery. His wife took a “month of silence” on Twitter. Jason’s social-media accounts remain dark.

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he brains of Internet addicts, it turns out, look like the brains of drug and alcohol addicts. In a study published in January, Chinese researchers found “abnormal white matter”—essentially extra nerve cells built for speed—in the areas charged with attention, control, and executive function. A parallel study found similar changes in the brains of videogame addicts. And both studies come on the heels of other Chinese results that link Internet addiction to “structural abnormalities in gray matter,” namely shrinkage of 10 to 20 percent in the area of the brain responsible for processing of speech, memory, motor control, emotion, sensory, and other information. And worse, the shrinkage never stopped: the more time online, the more the brain showed signs of “atrophy.”

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But in a way, it doesn’t matter whether our digital intensity is causing mental illness, or simply encouraging it along, as long as people are suffering. Overwhelmed by the velocity of their lives, we turn to prescription drugs, which helps explain why America runs on Xanax (and why rehab admissions for benzodiazepines, the ingredient in Xanax and other anti-anxiety drugs, have tripled since the late 1990s). We also spring for the false rescue of multitasking, which saps attention even when the computer is off. And all of us, since the relationship with the Internet began, have tended to accept it as is, without much conscious thought about how we want it to be or what we want to avoid. Those days of complacency should end. The Internet is still ours to shape. Our minds are in the balance.

via R. M.