Jeez, I just quoted a Yardbirds song for the title to this post. What am I, 87?

I was just reading about the fairly Draconian hiring practices of the incoming Obama administration, policies made necessary by a) the wretched sensationalism and fomented partisan scandal of American political life in the 21st century, and b) the astounding clumsiness of most people when it comes to managing their online presence.

Put simply, if you've ever sent an e-mail using barnyard similes to describe your ex, or Twittered your NCAA bracket selections to your bookie, you need not apply for work in the new government (there's a very funny piece in Slate today illustrating this matter AND taking a pot shot at those tedious signature files your self-righteous friends love to include with every four-word e-mail about tequila-related illness).

According to America's finest news source, the Onion, one in five employers check out job applicants on networking sites like Facebook before hiring them (other, lesser publications like the Economist and the New York Times also suggest as much). I recognize it's a struggle to keep your hands off your BFF's goodies every time there's a bottle of Jager and a camera in the same room, but the simple fact is the rush to expose oneself to friends and lovers online often leaves you open to scrutiny from those folks you'd rather never knew about your sordid fixations and vices (or, for that matter, your religious and political views, the specifics of your bank account, when your family will be at Aunt Ida's in Winnipeg for two weeks with your house unlocked for the cat sitter, et cetera).

The good people in the Division of Student Affairs and Campus Life have put together a handy guide to keeping your nose clean, your money safe, and your shame well-hidden. The Digital Citizenship guide can't save you from yourself, but it does offer a number of tips for how best to manage your online profile and have a good time staying in touch with friends and family without actually giving the authorities (or potential employers) the impression that your recreational proclivities are Viking in nature.

The folks who create the very tools of your potential digital destruction, the Interwebnetdotcommoners, are also toiling day and night to keep you from self-immolation. Some clever wag at Google recently created Mail Goggles, a program that uses a series of math problems in an effort to impede the dispatching of unfortunate e-mails during those temporary fits of liquid courage-inspired madness at 2 a.m. There has yet to be developed a comparable literary edition for math majors, but it's only a matter of time.

It's a brave new world, kiddies, and the truth is (as we've all learned from Law and Order) whatever you say can and will be used against you. At the same time, if you're clever and use social networking to showcase all the cool things you do (winter break with Habitat for Humanity, for instance), your online presence can definitely work in your favor.

Of course, if you're like me and have no aspirations to work in government, post a bunch of crazy stuff everywhere possible, and then apply for a White House job. I'm guessing the rejection letter will be the sort of thing you'll want to get framed.