Filed under: business, carny life, culture, debate, entertainment, facebook, fiction, grand opus rant, internet, media, news, politically correct, politically incorrect, pop culture, rant, relationships, social networking websites, technology, twitter, writing
In which a cranky person really doesn’t need a reason to dislike something, but Facebook manages to give him thousands anyway.
Part Deux
Some of the head wounded, I mean Facebook people (see part I) have trouble maintaining a house cat much less two or more friends at a time. On the internet they are suddenly capable of holding several shallow but steady conversations with 200+ “friends” at the same time, multiplying them like social bunny rabbits. Really? If these people are anything like real life people, you can bet there is more than one grudge being nursed in the dark of the relentlessly cheerful group dynamic. Some old argument that was never quite settled but not allowed to be acknowledged. Meanwhile a malevolent undertone is projected into each other’s status updates.
One of the serious drawbacks of the internet, one I’ve taken advantage of myself: Adopting an internet persona that is difficult to counter. Their justification? 200+ friends, virtual or otherwise are much easier to deal with than the rigors of day to day life. My justification? Voicing my opinion to an audience of negative 50 hits a day, most of which is misdirected porn searches (In review it seems I have even less justification than they do). What else is a blog for?
200+ people you’ve met in real life know, sure, 200+ “friends” seems a bit of an exaggeration. If I were to dial 50 people at random out of the phonebook could I call them “friends, too? I’d more likely be called “crazy”, but that’d be correct anyway. 100 plus random contact not-actual-friends? Should be called “Phonebook” then, shouldn’t it? That description is far more accurate and about as personal.
I believe there is a coming backlash that’ll reduce Facebook from what we know. The recent loss of Bill Gates and comments by Martha Stewart reveals a trend by baby boomers anyway. And they like to spend money like tweens (some think they are tweens). Remember Friendster or Xanga? Remember MySpace? Remember how omnipresent it was just 2 years ago? Now it’s buying ad space in 20 something movies to keep it relevant. It’s still around obviously but it’s not what it was. A possible future trend? Maybe that’s just the way the internet works.
I am active on Twitter as madmonq (Please join me!). Those who do know me are people I generally like. I can talk to them or not without recrimination. The rest of my “followers” joined not to increase their virtual standings but of their own volition. Twitter is more interdependently oriented, whereas My PhoneSpaceFaceBookFace is like a giant virtual perpetual pep rally where the geek and jock, cat and dog are forced to live in harmony together. If not you’ll get the sort of judgey disapproval from those whose approval you never wanted nor sought in the first place.
It might be a little hard to believe but there are lots of people I really like on Facebook, too. It and Twitter have helped me re-establish contact with a handful of people I genuinely love. That much is true. As in real life so the internet, I like to reserve my energy for nice people. Well meaning and not annoying. I’d rather not sacrifice my sense of well being to the the meta-happiness engines that drives its success and won’t be satisfied unless I do. I don’t believe my friends require it of me and I don’t of them. I only require them to be happy or sad as they see fit.
The internet tends to distort things beyond recognition. The compulsory cheerfulness inherent to Facebook turns it into a glam rock happy freak show fest that would turn the stomach of any decent circus carny. I am far more committed to this present crankiness than reliving the past with well meaning but aggravating people.
Fifteen reason to quit Facebook. A mini review of parts 1 and 2. Only less ranty.
*Stabby could easily take out Sleepy and replace him within the dwarves’ perverse monastic order of nominative determinatives. Being Sleepy was doing just that most of the time it’d be weeks before the others noticed his absence. Instead of sleeping with the dwarves, Sleepy would sleep with the fishes.
Filed under: business, carny life, culture, debate, entertainment, facebook, fiction, grand opus rant, internet, media, news, politically correct, politically incorrect, pop culture, rant, relationships, social networking websites, technology, twitter, writing
(In which your humble author is mostly kidding but not really)
…and thus spend as little time on it as possible. I was harassed into participating by people I know and trust. Now I must re-evaluate everything I think about them and myself.
There are many many lovely people that I am glad of their friendship. Fakebook enables everyone everywhere to appear that way too, no matter how detestable they are. It breaks down the wall between a face to face friend and the people you’d rather avoid in real life.
As my human alter ego (not ‘madmonq’) I will send representatives in the form of news articles or goofy videos clips. Otherwise I’m not sure that I’m bringing anything useful to the table. I am far too cranky to deal with the sort of assumed high school level glee, the sort of fake camaraderie affected by many of its participants and best left to high school reunions and years past.
Facebook thrives on a blunt force faux-happiness usually assigned to cheerleaders that, as an adult, I want to nothing to do with. It’s the sort of cheerfulness expected when two clearly miserable people announce their engagement. — the kind necessary when she is too needy and he’s dick. “Oh really?? Well that’s great!!!”. Secretly you are now pissed you have to buy this future divorce a wedding present. Such is the continued awkward social bind you’ll repeatedly find yourself in on the Facebook.
Ass-Facebook registration brought me in contact with a host of people, past and present, that I never thought I’d hear from again. Old high school friends, work associates and relatives. Some of were never really friends, were annoying , I haven’t seen them in years and suddenly! they want to be “friends”! No they don’t and no I can’t. FaceSpace has placed me in the ordinarily avoidable position of being fake, ignoring “friend” requests (Which makes me look like an asshole. I’m not saying that I’m not) or actively ignoring False -Facebook altogether. I’ve chosen a combination of all three with mixed results.
High School Friends!!!
The most pernicious sect of the FaceSpace cult: Relatively nice people from high school. Really. They are very nice but we were never as close as they think. I have little patience for “Remember the time…??” No I don’t and, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t the sort of life changing “Breakfast Club” moment they remember it to be. Unlike others, I truly don’t hold them any ill will. I just wish them some sort of temporary ill that’ll prevent them from contacting me again with anything less than basic punctuation. Like a small head wound.
Coworkers!!!
I would like my coworkers to take a head injury too, but only seriously enough where they’d forget my name but not forget they have to work. Anything more would just mean more work for me. They have to be functional enough to come to work and remember the good work- related gossip. Or at minimum, be functional enough to believe anything I’d tell them. I don’t want to gossip about work on the internet. I want to gossip about work at work, where I’m being paid for it. Otherwise it can wait until the next business day. It’s probably not the best idea to tell all your business on the Facepuss anyway, dummy. At work. Especially before you get hired. (I have a lot of requirement of my head traumatized work associates).
Relatives!!!
The previous dissociative events should tell you that I sort of avoid my extended family. There are good reasons for that. I thought that avoiding them altogether would be pretty much deliver the passive/aggressive message: Leave me alone. You are annoying. Then SpaceFace came along. After BookFace contact had been made, old family roles are assumed, refitted and retrofitted like an easter suit long outgrown. I learned to have no expectations of this particular group and for years they’ve lived up to them, why stop now?
This is a group that could best serve by taking taking a serious head injury and forgetting I ever existed. They’ve gone as far as not taking a serious head injury just to spite me. BookFace has allowed them to resume their familial duty of pestering me over a long distance. As is the habit of unpleasant people, they think I am overjoyed to hear from them. I don’t know if you can tell or not, But This Is Not the Case.
You’d think general cantankerousness and a head injury would be enough to scare people away from bothering me on the UglyFaceBook. It should be but it’s not. Social networking sites don’t play to its strengths. It instead provides a buffer that allows people to believe it’s OK to harass their “friends” with repeated requests for Harry Potter personality quizzes (I am probably the most evil one. Dumbledore, is it?). Or which of the Seven Dwarfs you are (If he existed I’d be Stabby. Stabby Dwarf.*).
Continued in Part II.
