But no. The Web is still here, and without it, journalistic obsolescence looms (yawns? festers? creeps in petty pace? click one). So this reporter sets out (urls forth?) onto the Internet. And what does he discover?

There appears to be more virtual environment on the Web than there remains real environment in the actual, tattered, non-virtual world itself. Or nearly. Yet doing research on the Internet is like taking a two-year-old for a walk. Pretty pebbles and deeply meaningful small sticks present themselves, but enlightenment seldom proceeds in a straight line. There is always some beguiling irrelevancy to be clicked, which is good. Often, however, the environmental pilgrim discovers to his surprise that there is not much depth of information. A surprising number of green websites are little more than 16-bit fund-raising brochures.

The Web is praised as a wondrous educational tool, and in some respects it is. Mostly, though, it appears to be a stunning advance in the shoring up of biases, both benign (one's own views) and noxious (other views). Whether anyone's opinion is changed by the Web is an open question, though of course the same could be said of Balkan politics and air strikes. A six-month debate on an Environmental News Network forum about agribusiness, organic farming and Monsanto's genetic engineering of plants, began in September with sweet reason: "In the U.S. only 10.9% of the average American's income is spent on food. Compare this to Britain at 11.5%, Sweden 14.5%." Fairly quickly the discourse descended to a mudball fight. A farmer who thinks chemical fertilizers and pesticides are fine dismissed an organic farmer as a gardener and added, "Man, you drip of liberalism; it almost stinks." Another nonorganic disputant offered, "More than anything, I cannot STAND ignorant hysterics seeking to ban or destroy whatever technological innovation currently threatens their precarious emotional stability." From the other side came this: "You are a vile individual who licks the boots of the well-heeled, and you'll never see the light about the virtues of unspoiled nature and wildlife... You are just full of technocrap!" The mudballs still fly, and all are welcome. Park your chewing gum and razors at the door.