Someone named Spooky McGee won't stir, even though noon is near.

To the casual observer, she doesn't look to be particularly spooky, wrapped snugly in her blanket, dozing, occasionally twitching.

In her somnolent state, she's oblivious to the stream of messages flooding her computer screen, imploring her to rise.

"WAKE UP!!!" implores one communiqué, incorporating a longer string of exclamation points than I care to reproduce here, as if the typed symbols somehow will do the trick.

The messagers might be friends; more likely, they're total strangers to Spooky. But they're all sitting in front of their own computer screens, watching her sleep and electronically chatting among themselves about the experience.

Remember the movies "The Truman Show" and "EdTV"? The main characters - one unwittingly, the other willingly - had their lives telecast for the entertainment of anyone who cared to take a look.

The concept seemed to be a bit farfetched when the films hit the theaters less than a decade ago. But the '90s are history, and thanks to the ever-growing capabilities of the Internet, latter-day Trumans and Eds abound.

"Lifecasters," they're called, and that's exactly what they do. Tune in, and you'll see and hear them going about their business, even if it's catching 40 winks.

I became curious about the phenomenon after reading Scott Beveridge's profile in this newspaper Monday about Justine Ezarik, a Scenery Hill native who has gained quite a following as a "lifecaster" who goes by iJustine.

Justine's blog led me to justin.tv, an online video streaming and chat site that the creator humbly calls "the future of video online." And that's where I encountered the likes of Spooky McGee, the (not really) Naked Cowboy and Alexa, who spent her very first night of "lifecasting" wearing a Steelers jersey, even though she's from New Jersey.

As for Spooky, she's from New York, and she eventually woke up to communicate with her, uh, fans.

OK, by now you have a couple of obvious questions: Why would some people want to put their lives online? And why would others watch?

I guess there's a degree of celebrity/notoriety in being a "lifecaster," and perhaps a potential for career advancement, as seems to have been Justine's case.

As far as tuning in, I spent way too much time the other day bouncing around justin.tv, and I can't come up with a good reason. I guess it's like watching (not very good) cinéma vérité, with the added bonus of having a say in what transpires.

Either that, or I'm just some old guy trying to keep up with hip young people.

Whatever the case, the "lifecasters" are following in the footsteps of Truman and Ed, proving that life imitates art. Or that truth is stranger that fiction.

Now, that's spooky.

Harry Funk is online editor for the Observer-Reporter. He can be reached at hfunk@observer-reporter.com.

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