Addiction
Addiction
[Close up of Cueball typing at his computer. Megan's text message to him can be seen coming from the screen with a zigzag line, and Cueball writes a response as seen from the line going from his hand on the keyboard up to his message.] Megan (through the computer): Constant novelty saps my initiative. I'm gonna try to spend a weekend at home without internet. Cueball (writing): I give you an hour.
[Megan is standing up, she turns off the computer in front of her by clicking on a button on the screen. Her office chair has rolled back behind her.] Click
[Megan stands in front of the computer arms in her sides. Beat panel.]
[Zoom out with Cueball sitting in his office chair typing a reply on his computer to the message from Megan as in the first panel.] Megan (through the computer): So far, it's not actually too bad! Cueball (writing): Ahem? Megan (through the computer): Wait. Shit.

Megan is attempting to stay a weekend at home without the Internet as she feels the constant exposure to novelty (from her internet surfing ) saps her own initiative. She writes a "last" on-line message about her resolution to Cueball , but he writes back that he doubts she can do it for even one hour.
She turns off her computer (or at least the screen) and stands up triumphantly next to it, however then she logs right back on to write to Cueball that it's not half bad being off-line, thus violating her original attempt as she clearly used the internet to send the message to Cueball. She doesn't even realize she did this until Cueball replies with the written sound Ahem? proving he was right about less than one hour.
Very typical of people having some kind of addiction , in this case for being on-line, they may not even realize when they indulge into it, which is the case with Megan here.
The title text elaborates on Megan's addiction, saying that when she turns off all of the machines in the room, it results in an "empty-room hum". This is a high pitched buzzing noise, which it is suggested results from the brain increasing its sensitivity to noises. This is a fairly normal experience, but the " whispers " mentioned may be slightly more sinister, as this is frequently associated as a sign of schizophrenia . See also 1590: The Source .
[Close up of Cueball typing at his computer. Megan's text message to him can be seen coming from the screen with a zigzag line, and Cueball writes a response as seen from the line going from his hand on the keyboard up to his message.] Megan (through the computer): Constant novelty saps my initiative. I'm gonna try to spend a weekend at home without internet. Cueball (writing): I give you an hour.
[Megan is standing up, she turns off the computer in front of her by clicking on a button on the screen. Her office chair has rolled back behind her.] Click
[Megan stands in front of the computer arms in her sides. Beat panel.]
[Zoom out with Cueball sitting in his office chair typing a reply on his computer to the message from Megan as in the first panel.] Megan (through the computer): So far, it's not actually too bad! Cueball (writing): Ahem? Megan (through the computer): Wait. Shit.
