Miller believes, as one would have to undertake such a thing, that leaving the Internet will make him better, although he fears, worst case scenario, that it might not, and "a year from now I'll be found wandering in the woods somewhere, muttering URLs to myself." Of course, there are bigger questions here, like the assumption that the Internet doesn't belong in certain places. Perhaps skyscrapers don't belong in certain places, but if you work for a company or have friends or family who live in a skyscraper, you need to visit them occasionally. You could apply this to anything created by humans—yes, humans did create this techno-beast, we made it for ourselves—that then, maybe, sort of starts to freak us out, so dependent upon it we have become, and so we shun it. But we're in a post-Internet time here. Backtracking into a moment when we didn't have it isn't exactly going to help us learn to use it better.

As for the rules of giving up the Internet, Miller won't browse the Web, ask someone to browse the Web, surf the Internet "over someone's shoulder," use Netflix streams, even someone else's, sync his devices, manage bank accounts, have Wi-Fi on, and even will eliminate text messaging, or attempt to. "To help lower my temptations, I've switched to a dumbphone." Do you feel anxious yet? He'll also "provide written text, share photos physically, and make video appearances" but he won't upload anything himself. Legitimately old-timey. And he won't have "comments to read, retweets to bask in, or forums to troll. I'll be all alone with my thoughts, and for all I'll know, I may be forgotten," he writes. For a year. A lifetime. Do you remember where you were a year ago? If it wasn't on the Internet, who are you, even? Miller's having one last Internet orgy before he closes out of his preferred Web browser, and so you can catch him at any number of places, including his Reddit AMA and on his Twitter. And on the comments of his Goodbye Internet post, which has gotten hundreds of responses and goodness knows how many page views. Ironically, leaving the Internet is a huge way to be ON the Internet. Which surely someone was aware of in the lead-up to this whole affair, regardless of how authentically minded Miller is.

It's amazing how much internet use it requires to leave the internet... — Paul Miller (@futurepaul) April 30, 2012

But why does this "leaving the Internet" shtick sound familiar? Oh, perhaps because it has been attempted it before. In April 2010, James Sturm announced in a blog post on Slate that he would be leaving the Internet to do, essentially, more "life" things. He wanted to do it for a year; instead, he settled on four months. What's weird with all of this, though, and with what Miller purports to do, is that they're not quitting writing, so their words end up on the Internet, albeit not loaded by themselves—it's almost like they haven't quit the Internet at all, at least not to the folks reading them. In Sturm's two-week dispatch from his Internet-free life, he wrote:

I have now been offline for two weeks. It's been unusually warm here in Vermont. Today it was in the 80s; already it feels like summer. In two weeks, two seasons have passed: mud season and spring. I'm not sure if I am more disoriented by the weather or my absence from the Internet.