I think I may have an addictive personality. Not in the sense that after people get the smallest taste of Nav, they can’t stop coming back for more (rather the opposite is true, in fact). No, what I mean is that when I latch onto a new vice, I find it very hard to let go. Sadly, my vices aren’t particularly interesting. I’m not an alcoholic (although I’m continually working on changing that state of affairs). I don’t really do drugs (I’m not cool enough). I’m not really addicted to nicotine (I’m very good at giving up smoking — I’ve done it more times than I can recall). And I’m not a nymphomaniac (this is not due to a lack of trying). My vice is something else: The Internet.

I’ve written before on the dangers of the Internet, in particular how its existence is destroying the possibility of achievement in graduate school. However, today I want to focus not on the consequences, but rather on the thing itself. Let us explore the meanderings of the insidious beast and discover how it drills holes into our minds and fills them with multiple copies of Paris Hilton.

Amongst my internet-addicted friends, I think the various sub-categories of electronic fixation break down into four distinct branches.

First off, there’s sport. Some folk just can’t get enough. And, with the help of the Web, there’s really no limit. I have friends whose knowledge of high school prospects each year is so detailed that, when it is combined with their equally in-depth knowledge of the heartthrobs of the gridiron, I start to ponder motives.

Following sports online is distinctly different from doing it in person. The emphasis changes from the thing itself to the process. We start to care as much for the backroom deals that got David Beckham to L.A., as for the precision of his footwork. But I digress.

Physics. Now, I realize that following physics online might not be a universal phenomenon. And, what’s more, one might naively think that this aspect of addiction is not such a bad thing for a physicist. After all, it would seem a natural part of the job.

The problem is, though, that following physics online tends to be the equivalent of reading supermarket tabloids instead of the Paper of Record. Blogs. We read blogs about physics. Blogs that are as filled with gossip and idle chatter, as they are with anything else.

Third up: Entertainment. This is the real leech of the bunch. Celebrity gossip. It is amazing how many hours can be put into researching the precise blood alcohol level of Lindsay Lohan on any given day. It’s also surprising that so many budding academics choose to fill their minds with factoids about the sex lives of Hollywood stars as a distraction from work.

Finally, we come to my personal vice. Politics. I think I must spend at least four hours every day hopping from one political blog to another. In fact, I just took a 10 minute break from writing this column to find out what The New Republic and The National Review had to say this morning (Armenian genocide seems to be on everyone’s minds).

Like my earlier example of sporting obsession, following politics online is of a very different quality to actually involving oneself. It’s much more like a game. You become slowly obsessed not with what people are saying, but rather with how and why. The art of winning and, more importantly, that of beating the other guy, takes center stage in online discussions.

Actually, this really is a universal property of online forays. Process takes precedence over principle (principle is not really the most appropriate word here, but it’s the best beginning with “p”). This is not necessarily a good or a bad thing — it’s just the nature of the beast. The rapid back and forth of information lends itself best to intellectual guerrilla warfare. It’s easy to be unconsidered and aggressive (and a lot more fun, too), so that’s what we do. Furthermore, it’s much more addictive.

Spending hours reading foreign policy essays in international relations journals is dull. Passing that time reading 300 word snippets and a dozen different blogs, however ... Well, let’s just say it gives me a buzz like nothing else.

Like all addicts, I tell myself I could quit anytime. I just do this out of boredom. If there is something else that needed to be done, I could drop the ‘net in a heartbeat. In reality, though ... Well, guess what I’ll be doing after I finish this sentence.