Facebook: Marketing Platform For The Two-Dimensional YOU

I really struggle with Facebook. It's a very weird thing to log on and observe updates from people I have very little interaction with, and interact with people I have very little in common with. I have over 416 "friends" on FB, and regularly interact with maybe 3 or 4 of them. The rest are peripheral observances of people who no longer represent an individual voice as much as they regurgitate the paradigmatic rantings of a demographic and cultural/political lean (I'm sure I fit into that box for many of my FB friends). Sometimes they will "like" my status update or comment on another FB friend's comment. I've come to realize that Facebook is just as effective as a weapon in expressing, whether it's passively or aggressively, your general dislike of someone you apparently call a "friend". I seem to be concerned with this, because I want to be liked and I want to like everyone (It's a condition those of us with addictive personalities tend to suffer from).

Anyone who is on Facebook and believes that there aren't a myriad of their FB friends who haven't blocked their posts or unfriended them because it's easier than actually confronting someone is probably deluding themselves. Also, that's no reason at all to even worry about that person. As my friend in this post said: "Why would I waste a second of mental energy on my enemies, when I can take comfort in the thought of my friends, people like you?" Well, I can actually think of one right now: 1. Because they're making some sort of effort to effectively ignore, thereby erase you from what information they take in from the world. At worst, they talk shit about you, at best, they just simply forget you exist.

But...why do I even put any effort into worrying about that? At worst, they'll convince people who want them to be in their favor but know nothing about me that I'm not worth knowing, and at best they'll alienate others who see that kind of backstabbing as indicative of a real winner. There's no reason to believe that I'm not that person to a myriad of my FB "friends" who haven't hidden my posts by now. And I find myself worrying about it when really, I shouldn't. Life is full of people who think they have the right answer for others, and it's just a matter of time until those others come around to their way of thinking...or is that really the case? Do we all sit around thinking that we know the way of the world? I know I certainly do. It's not the greatest thing to admit, but I can't escape that the world makes sense to me, even though it really pisses me off that I can't always be happy in the uncontrollable chaos of it all.

The long and short of it is that the main function of Facebook in my mind is not to change the landscape and quality of human interaction between acquaintances, but to allow for quicker access to that interaction. The quality of the interaction in fact, is lessened. Rich depth of communication due to body language, eye contact, tone of voice, and surrounding is removed. We're merely advertising our current marketing techniques for 'Brand "ME"', and 'Brand "YOU"'. Our fears, petty differences, passive/aggressive behaviors, many of them holdovers from grade school cliquishness seem to remain for the most part. Have some of my FB friends changed since I knew them in grade school? Sure. They've either had profound religious or ethical dilemmas that have caused a large paradigmatic shift, but their behavior still exhibits petty little snipes or just the right amount of cold indifference to make a point that I've somehow irritated them. Or maybe it's just that I keep thinking I'm the center of the universe and any time the nature of my interaction changes with someone it upsets me as well. Am I that different from those I've just described? I think, not so much Andy, not so much.

Facebook: What's YOUR point?

Whatever Shall We Do?

Let's go Jogging!

Really, it's been too long. I have a lot of writing to post. Saved as drafts. I'm actually weighing the options of pissing off the people from my band 12 years ago. I've been weighing them every night in the shower and on the toilet.

(Update: I actually wrote my former bandmates a very long, open letter of apology for my behavior in the past and recieved a very kind and welcoming response from both of them. Best thing to happen in all of 2010 for me. Do I still have lingering regrets? Of course. Do I still have lingering resentments? Legitimately. But the fact is, we are once again on speaking terms, we've matured, and hopefully forgiven each other for the most part. Life's too short to hang onto grudges willingly. I'm happy I've let most of mine go. I have to in order to make room for new ones. :) 5/8/2011)

Meanwhile,

I just walked my dog around Lake of the Isles, and there were a huge number of joggers out. Most of them looked really awkward as they approached, and when they jogged by, arms flapping, gangly legs supported by feet that, when airborne seemed to rotate in all planes so that I was amazed when the foot came down flat, over half of them had this look in their faces as if they were doing it for the wrong reasons...

Don't eat the chips.

I'm Really Not THAT Bad

Posting an exchange with a Facebook friend in lieu of several other posts that are still a' brewing...

Me: "[My Friend's Name Will Remain Anonymous], do you ever get the feeling that people just flat out don't like you? I don't mean that like it sounds. But recently I've just been really surly about a lot of things, and I get the feeling that no matter how I attempt to come across, there's an air of trepidation and dislike where my presence is concerned. I suppose it's because I've created that to a degree, but I just can't sit back anymore when I listen to some of the blanket-statement crap that comes out of peoples mouths. Sorry, I'm just kind of venting."

[My Friend]:

"My dear friend, I know exactly what you mean. I know there are a world of people out there who despise me too. But guess what? They're not important. Why would I waste a second of mental energy on my enemies, when I can take comfort in the thought of my friends, people like you?

Maybe this will help. You have to remember that people are tribal. They define themselves by something basic and then live by that creed, rejecting all those who don't. It doesn't mean they're evil and it doesn't mean they're stupid. It's probably instinctual, which means we can't change anyone. Our ancestors survived the wilds of the savannah through tribal behaviors. And on an emotional level, so do we.

Here are some examples: Republicans hate liberals. Rockers hate rap fans. Southerners hate yankees. The wealthy despise the poor, and vice versa. Fundamentalist Christians sneer at everyone. Young people dislike the elderly. Pro-lifers hate the young women who appear for an abortion. I could do this all day.

So when someone dislikes you, my friend, it says nothing about you at all. It's them.

As for those blanket statements, I don't know what to say. Argument is unproductive, I've learned. No one ever says, "you raise an interesting point." Everyone sticks to their guns. To allow your thinking to change is apparently a sign of weakness. I don't believe that will ever change. But you don't have to be a prisoner to it. You can always walk away."

Me: "Thanks, I needed to be reminded of that."


This raises an interesting point...

We Live In A World Of People. Doin' Whatever The Hell They Want. The Future Looks Bright.

What the fuck is up with people who are out and about at the same time I decide to go run my errands? Why is it that I continually run into selfish nimrod fuckbrains when all I'm trying to do is procure groceries and cat litter? Why do I feel the need to even comment on the inglorious state of society-at-large not doing what I want them to do when there are 1.5 blogs for every man, woman, and dried dog turd out there, bitching and moaning about the very same thing? I'll tell you why: Because I'd rather do this than yell at the cats. Yes, I get off on reading my own posts like you might get off on a good piece of whatever-it-is-you-do-to-decompress.

"Whoa! Shit! Marge! Get in here and taste a piece of this cake I baked up! Goddammit, I felt like I was channeling fucking James Beard!" Kind of like that.

The simple truth is that, the above awkward analogy somewhat not withstanding, we, as a still infantile race, have way too much lack of experience out in public, are increasingly informed socially by our choices on The Idiot Boxt, and as a result tend to work out our selfish impulses in public much more often than we care to admit, and, much to the chagrin of the others working their selfish impulses out, there is the inevitable clash of selfish impulses for the simple reason that there's too many channels of utter shit beaming through the wires, literally and figuratively. Sure, that's a weak thread, but so what. I'll bet there's more than a grain of truth to it all.

Case(s) in point:

1. The assholes that just stand in the middle of a grocery aisle oblivious to the fact that others need to maneuver through the space they've so punishingly blocked with their fat fucking asses. What is up with these people? Are they so inspired by their newfound realization that they actually have a CHOICE when shopping, that they have to make some sort of traffic-jam-spectacle out of themselves? "Look at me! I can choose ORGANIC frozen tater tots!"

Solution: Mini-cattle prods and air-horns. Taze the fuckers to the ground and then just lay on that air-horn until they bleed from the eardrums. Guarantee they'll be hugging the interior aisle line, and the post-traumatic stress will either make them work off the extra weight, or cause them to eat themselves into a cholesterol-induced aneurysm. Either way, you're doing those who mind the rules of courtesy a big favor by weeding out the herd.

2.Cyclists who blow 4-way stop signs when they're not the first ones to the intersection.

I'll admit, I'm always blowing stop signs on my bicycle...WHEN I'M THE FIRST ONE TO THE INTERSECTION, OR THERE'S NO ONE ELSE AT THE INTERSECTION! Otherwise, I leave it alone. My reasoning is thus: If I'm the first one to the intersection, it's much more of a hassle for the driver of an automobile to have to wait for me to stop...then SLLOOWWWLY get up to speed, pass through the intersection so they can be on their way. It's just a setup for tons of impatient automobile drivers to add to their list of Why Cyclists Suck. And to be honest, from what I've seen, most cyclists do suck. They ride like selfish little brats all stoked on their newfound freedom and they're gonna just do whatever the hell they want, because they've probably figured that no one really wants to deal with the hassle that comes with hitting a cyclist. And they're right. I have just about had it with these fuckers. Today, on the way to the store, in the car, I come to a four-way stop. I stop. I'm about to go when I see something out of the corner of my left eye. I look up, and there he is: Poster Child for Truth in Vasectomy and Abstinence. Long, flowing locks wound around a messenger bag strap wobbling atop an ancient lugged beater bike; eyes bagged out from too much living for one so young as this; weary lines cut from too much depth of thought brought on by swan-dives into violent psychedelic nights with his caste of idiots; lines forced into what was once a youthful expressive mask from too many drug-induced magical realizations. And now he's going to make us all pay by running a stopsign. Looks me right in the eye and just blows right through the intersection. Had I actually gone when I had the inclination, he would have plowed right into the drivers' side of my car. Which, among other reasons, would have been unfortunate due to the fact that I might not be able to open the damaged driver's-side door in order to stomp this idiots tongue into his mouthful of broken teeth.

Solution: Spring-loaded broom-handle launcher. Right into the spokes. Or the sides of the kneecaps. When the rider's down, exit the car and take a shit on their chest. Then say something witty like: "Say 'NO' to assholes who comment on YouTube!"

C'mon people. Be nice. Be sensible. Be aware of others. Take the time to take some time. Think. Otherwise there's going to be a lot of shit on a lot of chests. Wait. I forgot. Fetishists.

DAMMIT!

Fucking Procrastination!

Shit! I really have to update more often. There's so much to say. I think I wait for it all to build up to the point of overload and then just puke it all out on the ol' blog here. My links are out of date. Who's going to click on those damned things anyway? Everyone clicking on each other's links 24/7. Kind of weird in a super-interesting sort of way. Wife's out of town. Dog's sleeping. I've been eating cereal and thinking I'm 10 years old again. Sci-Fi channel played a Land Of The Lost marathon last night. I remember watching that on Saturday mornings when I was a tot. Boy does it look dated. Quite cerebral and well thought-out though. I should have watched more. I probably could have figured out where things took a serious left turn for me...just from my childhood fantasies as they related to my fascination with Sleestacks. Problem is, I experienced a sugar crash from the three bowls of Fruity and Cocoa Pebbles and instead retired to bed dozing through four pages of Joe Haldeman's The Accidental Time Machine before drooling off to sleep. Idea: invent a video game first-person shooter where the player gets to hunt down all reality show contestant/participant douchebags (I'm looking at you, John and Kate Gosselin) and waste them with extreme prejudice, then gather all the folks together who watch this shit, mix them with equal parts sand, nuke the fuckers and harness the reflective energy from the resulting radioactive glass sea and sell it to polar regions as "stupid people heat". Use the resulting money to balance the budget. There. Who needs Obama? I'm on it, folks...