Fact is, it's almost impossible to spend any amount of time on Net without accomplishing something, even when you don't want to. Now, doing nothing - that takes focus and discipline. Sounds odd, but hardcore slacker must be very picture of diligence in his fight against that old bugaboo - productivity. Let your guard down for a second and you'll be calculating your mortgage before you can say "dude". While it's true there's nothing out there, if you want to find Nothing you gotta know where to look.

For your first foray into oblivion, try Bartlett's Familiar Quotations (www.bartley.com/100). Seems quotable people have always had plenty to say about Nothing, (although some of it is really something, so watch your back). Geoffrey Chaucer once wrote, "Nothing can be done at once hastily and prudently". Since he wrote that instead of saying it, I think it's safe to say wiser words were never not spoken about Nothing. And, of course, it was William Shakespeare who wrote, "Nothing will come of nothing", which makes a lot of sense when you don't think about it.

But time for convenient generalizations about population of online world is past. It's in its Devonian era now, swarming with rapidly evolving forms that may or may not survive. Except for only partly successful efforts of private services to ensure civility and proprietary, online intercourse is unregulated. This is Golden Age.

The first thing that surprises a new visitor to online world is its warmth. You find in people there is a reservoir of benevolence that in 3D world would be ringed about by a fence of caution. The immateriality of online experience removes caution; kindness is there to be taken. A new voice in a forum is greeted by a chorus of welcome. Ask a question and a dozen voices answer.

If you know how to make your way around Internet, astonishing vistas open up. You post a query: "Where can I find spy satellite images?" The next evening, answer is there: 14 percent. As likely as not, respondent is an Internet professor of medieval history, tapping at his keyboard with enthusiasm of a kid at video game. Of course, it could be a kid pretending to be NSA's expert on Arial Intelligence.

I'm interested in Cybernetics, and I often visit a forum on Usenet, a veritable town hall of conversation and information on cybernetic engineering. There I regularly see postings from a man I will call Baker. Baker works deep in bowels of theoretical cybernetic establishments. He's busy. But there he is, again, and again answering questions, simple or sophisticated, from strangers. I posted him a message: "Where do you find time?"

"I need social contact," came his answer. "I don't get it at office". This triggered an odd thought: Did all socially inhibited Cybernetic wizards at office, silent or stammering when they encounter one another at coffee machine, perhaps have colorful online lives where they become social super-heroes, donning tights to wage war on ignorance and isolation? Maybe so

Removing usual cues of appearance, dress, accent and manners uncovers people's natural gregariousness. We are, after all, social animals and feeling of community arises spontaneously in us. The emotional content of message creates a sense of place where a human presence can be felt. The result of being surrounded by living souls without visible form is a wonderful sense of liberalization.

People bare themselves online as they rarely do in life. Far from resembling a series of dry telegrams or office memos, online communications drip with blood, sweat and tears. You encounter, now and again, touchingly eloquent messages, stripped of pretense; all human life - and death - is there. Community is a complex experience. It combines sense of belonging with its all-too-frequent counterpart, need to exclude. Acceptance and ostracism have same strength online as off.