when trapped on the net and only allowed to bring one thing, I'd bring a phone that I can check the internet on to make sure I'm OK.

To jack in, he plugs his wireless card into the side of his head. When he jacks into the synthetic reality matrix, the clock says 7 pm. While online, he stares at time-lapse footage of a lamp from the time the light bulb was screwed in until it goes out. When he logs out, he looks at the clock. The clock says 7 pm. If he punches a hole in your computer and pulls out it's still spinning drive, he jacks in. If he holds that drive in his arms and cries until he falls asleep and then wakes up because his pillow's wet, he jacks in. The synthetic reality matrix can't handle him right now. If he sits on the floor and stares or gazes fixedly and intently, especially with the eyes wide open, at the light for 7 hours and now every time he closes his eyes he sees that light, he jacks in. You're his friend. Now you're his friend only online. Online, he lets predictive typing update his online only friends about his life. If he's smarter only from the amphetaminal day dreams, he jacks in. He makes up that he went to your web page and read what you said. If he says he doesn't want to have sex with you anymore because you're too tall, he jacks in. If he says what you have to say makes his life more interesting, he jacks in. If he dreams that all his best friends are online and message him the same message and all at once and destroy the internet as we know it, he jacks in. If he's fucked, he jacks in. If everything he does is a reinterpretation of what he sees other people do to the point that all his actions can be predicted in advance by a computer that doesn't exist yet, he jacks in.