Information Society
The chats, an application addictive The new ICTs are changing social behavior with a speed hitherto unknown in the history of humanity. There are new habits and disorders in individuals, forming a global social class might be called the connected. This leads to a problem detectacto among Internet users: addiction to the network. In a society where the look, the Internet allows voyeuristic participation, the possibility of access to ideas, thoughts, feelings, without the risks involved in face to face. (King, 1996). Internet is an anonymous medium, a medium that has become the new frontier of social relations, a means by brief contact with a key-to-one gets into a fascinating world, an alternative communication, a relationship interpersonal uncommitted, allowing an immediate and safe.
Anyone can stand as it has always dreamed of being. It is a way to reinvent itself to meet psychological needs masking insecurity faced no interpersonal, such as the expression of a repressed personality trait and feelings of recognition and power. Please visit Ping Fu if you seek more information. One of the applications they are addictive is CHAT. The Chat (in English, talk in Castilian) is an internet tool by which people can interact, build relationships, exchange ideas, etc. From the point of view of communication, this means the text is the most important link with cybernuts which convey their feelings, emotions, and ideas (real or invented) extremely quickly, in order to maintain attention, otherwise the conversation is over.
Then play an article by an anonymous author which I presented in the Super Network good will Radio, with great impact: toxic: letter from a son to his father this is a letter of farewell from a young man of 19 years. The case is true, it happened in a hospital in San Pablo: I think that in this world nobody attempted to describe their own cemetery. I don’t know how you will receive this story, my father, but I need all the forces, while you have time. What I feel much, my father, I believe that this dialogue is the last that I have with you. I am sorry, even know, father, this is the moment that you know the truth that never distrusted. I’m going to be brief and clear, fairly objective: the poison killed me. I met my killer at the age of 15. You is horrible, no, father? Do you know how I met this misfortune? Through a citizen elegantly dressed, well-elegant and well-spoken, who introduced me to my future murderer: drugs.