Mason: Internet increases lonliness and desperation

I don't know where my life would be if it weren't for Craigslist. I've sold 2 cars there, acquired pets, rehomed a pet guinea pig, found a vintage record/8-track player, found bookshelves, a bed, my DVD player, a papasan chair and numerous other belongings that have come and gone.

But could I find a boyfriend?

Wait. What? A boyfriend? That's the last thing I need. Of course, I didn't really need an albino corn snake either, and I still don't have a practical use for a 1960's hollowed-out T.V. But with homework avoidance at the top of my priorities this semester, I decided to place an ad in the ever-popular "Women for Men" section.

Posting an ad of this type is a delicate situation. I wanted to be open-minded yet make it clear I wasn't desperate for the attention I was seeking. Though the ad was void of pictures, I offered such descriptive clues as, "brown hair," "vegetarian," "foreign movies," and "I don't like hunting." I added a few winky-faces, an exclamation point or two and submitted.

Little did I know, the Internet is a lonely place for a lot of people.

Since the ad was posted, only a few days ago, 68 different men have expressed their interest in me. Well, at least, the woman who turns out to be me.

I wasn't about to respond to that many e-mails. But I sure did read them.

31 PG pictures, one X-rated picture, four phone numbers, countless substitutions of the letter "U" for the word "you," an offer to ride a Harley, an invitation to a police bicycle auction, five people I already knew, four people who told me they loved to hunt and one poem.

There were also such memorable quotations such as:

"I don't smoke, do drugs or have children, but I hope to someday."

"I'm terribly ADD."

"Can you cook me chard on the down-low?"

"Do you count nights when we sleep and just do nothing. I love to talk if you will give a consideration, and I strongly hope you won't go any where else but will love to stay as a husker because I love huskers cause I am a big husker fan."

"I am a gypsy wanderer."

This transparency and offering of idiosyncrasies to an unknown person reeks of desperation. A desperation to connect and be acknowledged by someone, anyone, who can fill a social void and remind them that they matter in this world.

In a 2006 article published on softpedia.com, a study on loneliness by Duke University and the University of Arizona suggests that Americans aren't as connected to each other as they have been in the previous 20 years. The introduction of technology diminishes "the need for face-to-face visits with friends, family or neighbors," the article said.

Though technology makes it possible to communicate with a large number of people in a variety of places at a variety of times, it may be isolating us from each other. Though the Internet is a great and powerful tool, it can't substitute for the inherent need for human companionship. The non-virtual-reality type.

I am astonished that there are people who will be so open with their full names, photos, phone numbers and personal information. Granted, an honest response was what I was looking for, but it concerns me that people are so isolated that they will open themselves up so completely to a photo-less, nameless, and guarantee-less six-paragraph ad on a virtually security-measure free Web site in a city as small and connected at Lincoln.