Caught in the Web

The multimedia/hyperlinked system known as the worldwide web is called a web for a reason: Everything is connected to everything.  Because knowledge can be accessed in multiple modes and instantaneously, the experience of navigating the web is not unlike searching our own long-term memories.  "What is that person's name?"  "When did that even occur?"  When is the next solar eclipse?"  You can go on forever.  If we think we actually know the answer we can scan our long-term memories as human beings have done for millennia.  But if we think that the answer is "out there" in cyberspace we can scan the collective world-wide memory of the internet.  The resources of the web can turbocharge long-term memory, acting as a prosthetic to amplify its power as a telescope or microscope can amplify what eyeballs can do on their own, or as a backhoe can magnify the earth-moving capability of a man.  But does "web" connote only connectedness?  Other webs—non-metaphorical ones—function not only to relay information but also to trap and hold prey.  A spider becomes aware of a trapped insect by means of vibrations transmitted through the strands of its web, but this would be irrelevant if the web were not super-sticky and seductive, producing unwarranted complacency until it's too late.  The meanings of web are pretty distinct: communications relay and deadly trap.  But the electronic web we know and love obviously refers to the first meaning, right?  Right?