Tag Archives: Facebook
The dawn of it was ‘LIKE THIS IF YOU HATE CANCER!’ pictures. Then came the ascent of those Facebook status games, where women – and only women – were expected to post seemingly esoteric statuses such as ‘I like it on the floor!’ as part of word-of-mouth (or, more accurately, Facebook message) games, allegedly intended to raise awareness of breast cancer. And now the unofficial awareness campaign du jour is a spate of ‘make-up free selfies’ on Facebook and Twitter; that is, the selfie reappropriated as a two-click crusade for awareness, replete with ‘cancerawareness’ hashtag.
All trends see a backlash eventually, but few have been as quick to mobilise as this one. Yet while it may seem churlish to denigrate those who have participated as ‘slacktivists’ and narcissists, the backlash brigade have some solid arguments. A common reaction to the pictures has been to wonder what bare faces have to do with breast cancer. Are participants suggesting that they are as brave for baring their natural faces on social media sites as they would be to undergo chemotherapy and face its side-effects? Is it a clever attempt to latch onto a ubiquitous trend and eke some good from the vanity of Generation Y?
If the latter, it has been hampered by a lack of direction. ‘Awareness’ is an unhelpfully vague term, for starters. A lack of further information from the majority of participants suggests the awareness it seeks to promote extends only to the existence of the illness, which is superfluous given how prominent an illness it is. Tireless activism from charities and survivors over the past few decades have made it one of the most well-known types of cancer, yet their efforts to embed it in public consciousness have been consolidated by awareness of not only the disease itself, but of how to increase one’s chances of diagnosis, and therefore of treatment and survival.
In the past, cancer survivors have bemoaned online ‘awareness’ trends, suggesting that they trivialise the illness. With only a picture and a supportive hashtag, but no useful information to clarify the aims of the ‘movement’, the same criticisms can be levied at this one. This is compounded by the fact that, unlike similar non-sequitur charity efforts – how are pink ribbons constructive for breast cancer research? How does growing a moustache in November do anything to help those with testicular cancer? – it has also been undermined by lacking a direct fundraising initiative. Without raising money to enable scientists to seek breakthroughs in cancer treatment and prevention, it is easy to come to the conclusion that the movement is little more than an excuse for people to make themselves feel good with the barest minimum of effort, while indulging narcissistic tendencies to plaster their faces across the internet.
Possibly the most important qualm of all is the fact that this is, once again, a ‘movement’ aimed solely at females, meaning that male breast cancer – yes, men can get it too – is entirely overlooked. While it may be a rare cancer, the feminisation of the breast cancer movement is such that most are totally unaware that men are susceptible to a form of it too; it is difficult to argue that this is not more in need of having awareness raised. Although the selfies aren’t a Cancer Research initiative, the charity is itself guilty of marginalising male breast cancer by making the Race For Life a female-only event.
Despite the incoherency, the narcissism and the misandry, and despite Cancer Research not having come up with the idea, it’s actually sparked a huge influx of donations to them. Social media users are often accused of having negligible attention spans, with shameless clickbait the only way of grabbing their attentions. The fact that they are able and, more importantly, willing to seek further information off their own initiative is a pleasing riposte to this claim and proves that, while awareness selfies may be a nonsensical, self-absorbed exercise, they do appear to be doing some good.
But while a few days of selfies may cause a spike in donations, it will ultimately tail off – a trend is, at the end of the day, a fad. Cancer charities need more than a brief surge of financial input; they require constant fundraising. Fundraising requires effort. A minute’s posing and posting does not constitute effort. Running or walking the Race For Life, volunteering for a research charity or suchlike would probably elicit more substantial donations from friends and family than a selfie would. Yes, it isn’t always possible to do this if you lead a busy modern life, but by failing to truly engage with the illness or aims of the charities that look to cure it, we’re failing to truly educate ourselves. And educating ourselves really would raise awareness.
Donate to Cancer Research UK here
Sign up to Race For Life here
Learn about male breast cancer here
There’s an unwritten rule that the only acceptable way to celebrate a new Facebook layout is to complain about it. They change ‘become a fan’ to ‘like’? Time for a moan. They bring in that stupid sidebar to tell you that your friends are commenting on posts by people you don’t know? Post a furious status threatening to delete your account. They fiddle around with the privacy settings, claiming to make them easier to use but actually just making them more complicated? Back in a moment, just getting a pitchfork and joining the lynch mob that’s headed for Mark Zuckerberg’s house. [There’s an Oatmeal cartoon that accurately describes these events here.]
But Timeline is different. Whereas most Facebook layout changes are relatively small, so that users can adapt to them with minimal effort – and forget what the ‘old’ Facebook looked like within 15 minutes of their profile making the change – Zuckerberg et al. have taken a huge gamble by changing what it is people use Facebook for. Although the original aim of the original site, Facemash, was to serve as a Harvard ‘Hot or Not’ application (as shown in 2010’s Best Picture Oscar-nominated film The Social Network), it evolved into a broader social network with the mission statement “Connect with friends faster, wherever you are”. Timeline’s name says it all – it’s looking to make the Facebook user profile into a timeline of their life. It’s a huge departure from merely being a social networking tool; Facebook is now asking you to record your life story on there. It wants to know everything, be your autobiography of sorts and, courtesy of the ‘cover’ picture at the top of the page, individualise your Facebook experience a little bit. It’s a cool idea. In theory.
…Unfortunately, cool ideas in theory aren’t necessarily good ideas. The electric tricycle, The Sinclair Research C5, was a cool idea. Concorde was a cool idea. Smell-O-Vision, a 1960s cinema ‘add-on’ of sorts which released odours in conjunction with what was on the screen at the time, was a cool idea. All of these ideas failed commercially. Although Timeline’s situation is not really comparable to those of any of these examples, its advent is a strange and dangerous move by Facebook’s management, particularly considering that 7 million North American users – nearly 1% of the site’s entire users – became inactive in May 2011 alone. Will a hefty site rejig really stop the rot?
This isn’t the first time I’ve thought that Facebook was on thin ice courtesy of changes. The last ‘big change’ previous to Timeline was the installation of the sidebar that I mentioned in the first paragraph; despite promising improved privacy settings, a sidebar that tells everyone in your friend list what you’re saying to anyone if you don’t have tight privacy settings was hardly upholding the mores of personal privacy. Although it’s easy to tighten your settings, it doesn’t tell you beforehand that your information is being publicly displayed if your privacy settings extend further than ‘Friends’. Even as a bit of a Facebook stalker myself, I find that amount of information being readily available to my stalking senses deeply uncomfortable. And don’t get me started on Subscribers…
…But, still, the gamble might be paying off. Certainly, the majority of tech websites and blogs have been having geekgasms over it since it was released on December 15th. The Guardian released a startlingly sycophantic article in support of it, including gushing over the fact that you can jump back to the day you were born on your ‘timeline’. In all honesty, I can’t think of anything I’d require less on the website. With most of Facebook’s 800 million users yet to adopt the new layout, the wider public’s opinion is yet to be known.
However, speaking as someone with little knowledge of computer complexities, over 4 years’ worth of Facebook experience and the Timeline installed for a fortnight now, I’m going to make the bold prediction that 2012 is going to be Google+’s year, and (eek) the beginning of Facebook’s downfall. Industry analysts predict that Google+’s user base will reach 400 million – half of Facebook’s – by the end of this year, and a radical change of Facebook profiles is almost certainly going to lead to that number increasing. A quarter of Google+’s users signed up in December 2011 alone – the same month that Timeline was released. Especially considering that users aren’t being given the option to revert their profiles to the ‘old’ layout, I doubt that’s just a coincidence. Let’s just say that, given the choice, I wouldn’t have kept my profile in that state, and – had I not already been on Google+ – I would have signed up for it there and then.
Essentially, with Timeline, Facebook is asking too much of its users. Sure, it was fun having a play around with the map feature when I realised I was stuck with the damn thing. I tagged where I’d been in my life – which came to disaster when I somehow, embarrassingly, managed to tag friends as being in Abu Dhabi airport with me right at that moment (despite entering the date of this visit as July 2009) – and had a cheeky stalk of myself from years past (result: oh Christ, the embarrassment of being an angsty 15-year-old…). But – maybe I’m too old to spend ages arranging my profile into a specific order, maybe I’ve grown out of the website, or maybe it’s just jumped the shark now – it all seems forced, unnecessary and, to keep their information on the site to a minimum, alienating. Many users keep their profiles merely to keep in touch with distant friends, share articles (cough) or remain on the social radar, to be invited to events. What exactly does Timeline do for them?
Other parts seem to be overkill even from the most avid stalker’s perspective. What does knowing when someone liked a page do for anyone? The only use for it that I can think of may be a misguided assumption in any case; assuming that someone started liking a band at a certain point because they became a fan of them in October 2009 could be wrong for any number of reasons. Over the years I’ve cut back my musical Likes on my page either out of embarrassment, lapses in support or by mistake (alternatively, just to cut back the sheer number), so if you’re assuming, for example, that I only became a fan of McFly in 2008, you’re so wrong. (February 2004, actually.) While some of the information you can dredge up from your history on Timeline is interesting, enlightening or amusing, there’s no point having it if it’s plain wrong or utterly useless/tedious.
On a more serious level, the option to add sensitive life stories to the profile such as ‘Death of a Loved One’ seems like a serious misjudgement on Facebook’s part. Sharing Likes was one thing; sharing deaths is quite another. Perhaps I’m being old-fashioned or over-analysing things here, but I was under the impression that family or friend deaths aren’t the sort of trivial things that one would want to share with the world, or even your whole friends list. Sure, you can decide not to put it on there, or you can hide it from certain people you wouldn’t want to share it with, but the fact that it’s even an option lends the disturbing conclusion that Facebook wants to know all your secrets, including the most painful and traumatic ones. In my opinion, that’s the sort of information that people should have to earn through trust and proper friendship, not just from being a casual acquaintance that boosts one’s numbers. In the days of yore, when it was just Likes that one could flaunt, Facebook’s sharing facilities meant that people who didn’t know each other that well could base a friendship on a mutual interest, or at the very least discuss it. Sharing deaths turns Facebook from being a refreshing, light-hearted opportunity to socialise into a potentially solemn and awkward experience. After a frenetic stalking session, I once discovered a friend’s father had died several years before we’d met; it leaves you feeling guilty, overly-intrusive and puts you off stalking a little bit. And without stalkers to read your life story, Timeline is utterly redundant.
Sometimes Facebook’s changes are for the best. Who can really say that they miss Superpoke! or Gifts? But I honestly don’t think the new layout is more attractive than the old one; two columns of links or comments overwhelms the user with an overload of information where the previous layout’s single column neatly presented information at a digestible pace. The ‘cover’ idea is alright, livening up the top of the page, but I can’t help but be reminded of MySpace’s garish backgrounds and HTML stars falling down the page when I see it. The jumbled and random placing of activity boxes, recently listened to music and recently read news articles is incredibly confusing, as are the privacy settings; ok, you can decide how private each speck of information is, but more options leads to more confusion. Admittedly, I do like the fact that it has incorporated news applications into the site – although a lot of the articles I find myself reading on there are utter trash, some of them are quite interesting or informative and it’s never a bad thing to know that a supposedly ignorant age group are educating themselves on world affairs in between stalking.
I think the main problem here is that Facebook’s monopoly on social networking has made its directors want to incorporate the USPs of every other social networking website into it so that it fulfils every purpose and continues to be a necessity in modern life. It copied the ‘what’s on your mind?’ question in the status box after Twitter got big (though both have now changed this), introduced a Spotify-merger music profiling system that rips off LastFM (to a less successful extent – there’s no way of combining it with one’s iTunes listens, making its catalogue of music plays unrepresentative for many users), and has the option to ‘tag’ one’s location that Foursquare provides. The one thing that it doesn’t provide is a comprehensive search engine; this gives Google+ a major advantage.
Google is the only website higher up in the Alexa rankings (detailing the most visited websites in the world) than Facebook, and is ubiquitous to the point where it has its own verb in the Oxford English Dictionary (“To google (2): 1. intr. To use the Google search engine to find information on the Internet.”), something that Facebook has yet to achieve; as such, it reaches an even wider target audience than Facebook. But what really gives it the edge is Google+’s USP: it strips back most of the excess that Facebook has accumulated in trying to be everything to everyone, and instead gives you a clean, uncluttered interface. It provides a similar service to that which many people originally signed up to Facebook for; connecting and interacting with friends. There’s none of this Timeline nonsense, except your birthday, schools and jobs – if you want to share them – and there’s no ‘share the death of a loved one’ obligation. It’s simpler, nicer to look at and is comfortingly ‘old-school’, but simultaneously fresh. At the moment, it gains over half a million users per day; that number looks set to increase as other social networks drive out their users with unnecessary changes.
Of the people I know who have explored Timeline, the overwhelming majority dislike it. When it becomes a compulsory layout for all, they won’t be alone; surely this will tie in with a surge of people deactivating their accounts and leaving the website, maybe in their millions. After all, how long until the next set of changes? How many times can people watch their profiles being messed around with? Somewhere in Los Angeles, Tom Anderson from MySpace is sitting on the sofa of ex-social network overlords, cackling at the schadenfreude of it all, and getting the popcorn out as he watches the drama unfold. He’s waiting for Zuckerberg to join him.
I tried my best to educate the online masses with my original article on Facebook etiquette, informing them that their overly sentimental/dull/posing ways were an annoyance to society and, more importantly, to me. Unfortunately it seems that not only have they ignored me and continued in the same vein, they’ve found new ways to exasperate the virtual community. Readers of the original blog related their other Facebook-related gripes, and as a result I’ve made a sequel. Here’s to hoping that those committing these grievous online crimes will repent of their social-networking sins this time…
1. Just because you don’t have anyone to say goodnight to in real life doesn’t mean it’s acceptable for you to wish a website goodnight. IT REALLY ISN’T.
Maybe it’s understandable on Twitter. If you’ve been Tweeting incessantly for three hours and people have been responding in real time, it’s only polite to suggest that talking time is over and that you’re off to bed. This is acceptable because you are effectively having a conversation. Facebook, on the other hand, provides several means for conversations with people; wall posts, private messages, Facebook chat. Ergo, you can say goodnight to people individually if you’ve been talking to them. You don’t need to say goodnight to your ex-milkman, father’s uncle’s cousin’s pet mouse Snuffles or that kid from your class who wet himself in assembly in year 3.
2. Hilarious as you may be, if you’re really that funny then other people will like your own status. You don’t need to.
The ‘like’ button is great; it’s an instant way to feel popular or express approval/amusement, and a simple way of distinguishing the good statuses from the chaff. But you should NEVER click that button on your own status, even if it is absolutely spray-your-orange-squash-over-your-keyboard-from-laughing-so-hard hilarious. The minute you press ‘like’ on your own status is the moment you go from hero to zero. No longer are you the Oscar Wilde of the internet; you’re a self-congratulating egotist. Worse still, because you’ve probably liked it before anyone else, you look like a self-congratulating egotist with no friends: given Facebook’s function of being essentially a social competition, it means you lose big time.
Of course, being a self-congratulating egotist myself, I have to state that there’s nothing wrong with the occasional bit of self-appreciation. It makes a change from the desperately insecure people that plague the internet. But there’s a line, and when you click the button, you cross it. Trust me on this; you come across as being inordinately lame whenever you do this.
3. No, Farmville users, I don’t want to sow your sodding seeds. Why don’t you go and do that in the Biblical sense so you don’t have to bother me about it?
Karma got me on this one; a friend complained about this particular issue to me and, for a laugh, I added the application just to send her a ‘sow my seeds’ notification like the person she’d been criticising. [Ed: I’ve just realised the potential for this as a chat-up line.] Unfortunately, this then meant that I was exposed to the threat of being notified by the three remaining Farmville players on Facebook, all of whom I seem to be connected with (including the original offender), and soon the red flag began waving at the top of the page with Farmville requests. Playing Facebook games isn’t a crime in itself, or I’d be guilty as charged with Tetris Friends, but it’s the minute you start bothering people you don’t know very well to help you out. You wouldn’t ask someone you knew briefly at a party to look after your gerbils (and if you did, I fear for the wellbeing of your gerbils), so why would you ask them to look after your crops? Obviously this allegory doesn’t quite work, because the gerbils are living, breathing animals and the crops are fictional pixels on a screen, but it’s still asking the other person to devote time and energy (ish) to something that probably isn’t top of their priorities list. In some ways it’s worse, because it won’t benefit them at all – at least with looking after one’s pets they can enjoy the company and the hilarity that comes with watching animals. With Farmville, as I understand it, watering someone’s plants helps the other person to be better than you. Unless you have an altruistic streak, why bother?
So, to the Farmville requesters; there’s a reason why no-one is sowing your seeds in the virtual world, and that reason is that everyone has blocked your notifications. I hope your pixel plants die. (Did I go too far there?)
4. If you’ve fulfilled your biological duties and popped out a sprog, well done to you. That doesn’t justify your posting hundreds of pictures and statuses of and about your spawn.
This is similar to my point in the original article about couples with their soppy statuses and millions of ‘happy couple’ photos – but it’s worse, because unlike couples, the mother and baby are unlikely to break up. It’s the beginning of a long road ahead.
It begins during the pregnancy, and it’s bad enough then. There comes a chant of “I cnt w8 4 ma bb gal 2 b born I luv u so much darlin frm mummy xxx”* every week – no, to-be mother, your baby cannot read your Facebook status, and neither can anyone with a modicum of literacy. Ultrasound photos begin cropping up. Then they squeeze the infant out. “Ma bb gal ws born @ 3 37am xxx” – fair enough; the mother has earned it after the pain of giving birth. The first picture appears of a chubby pink prune with a face. Again, fair enough; they want the online community to know that it is definitely their other half’s baby (unlike that couple on Jeremy Kyle), and want their self-esteem boosted by people telling them that your DNA hasn’t produced a mini-Eric Pickles lookalike.
As the weeks go by, the mother posts more and more photographs of her offspring, and never fails to miss an opportunity to talk about breastfeeding, nappy-changing or complaining about the rigours of motherhood. In any case, you begin to wish that Durex had sold an extra box of their stock nine months earlier. In the same way that there are only so many photos you can see of make-up-drowned caricatures preening in the mirror, or of couples attempting to eat each others’ uvulas, there are only so many photos you can see of a miniature Voldemort-with-nose that cries and craps for England. Eventually you begin to hope that the mother is so hormonally-screwed that she removes you as a friend, fearing for the safety of her much-promulgated child because people she wouldn’t trust as a babysitter know every detail of Junior’s life through her statuses. And whose fault is that? Precisely. If you’re going to add to world overpopulation, please don’t add to Facebook’s problems by complaining about your leaky nipples. Thanks.
*I’m not suggesting that all mothers are keyboard-illiterate. I’m just drawing on my own experience of Facebook mothers™ and their heinous News Feed-clogging and English language-anorexia [by which I mean that they slim down their words to an unhealthy size].
5. ‘Click the link to be GUARANTEED a free diamond-encrusted iPad 7 with Pippa Middleton attached, valued at £1,603,845.59!’ Thanks, but no thanks – I’m not as deficient in the brain department as you are if you thought this offer was genuine.
If your account was hacked, no problem. That doesn’t reflect badly on you. What does reflect badly, however, is when you like these sort of pages, click these sort of links, or most annoyingly, naively watch ‘This video where a baby gets beaten with a kebab skewer – SHOCKING!!’. This affects my life because it immediately starts posting said video on everyone’s wall – yes, including mine. I don’t want to watch a baby being beaten with a kebab skewer, and quite frankly it disturbs me that you did. It’s not dissimilar to the frustration of having ‘___ ___ answered a question about you! [‘Does [your name] have an fuzzy rainbow merkin?’] Click here to see how they answered!’ plastered on it every time I log on. I do not know or care if someone thinks I have a fuzzy rainbow merkin. [Ed: Incidentally, I don’t.] Anyway, the chances are that you’re not that computer-naive if you can use Facebook and tag people in your statuses, so how can you be stupid enough to think that you’ll get a free iPad if you click the link?
Besides, Pippa Middleton’s an absolute dog anyway. I’d rather have a Prince Harry attached…
Ah, Facebook. The most essential tool of a stalker/gossip-mongerer’s trade, the online Filofax for one’s social life and one of the most infuriating communities you’re likely to be immersed in. You don’t really know someone until you’ve seen their online flaws, be it deadly dull status updates, constant streams of oh-whoops-how-did-this-camera-get-here photos, or a relentless bombardment of games requests on a scale not seen since you deleted your Bebo account five years ago. In any case, I’m here to help by providing a helpful guide to avoiding the things that make your Facebook friends want to throttle you – or, worse, defriend you.
- You are not a master photographer/model combo. STOP UPLOADING PICTURES OF YOURSELF THAT YOU TOOK WHILST POSING IN YOUR ROOM.
If it’s the occasional one, or you just had a radical make-over – for example, if you shaved your head, dyed your eyebrows blue and had a Pikachu tattoo over your face – then fair enough. I’m not begrudging you the odd moment of vanity. No, I’m just talking to the people who have albums and albums dedicated to their own mugshot, despite the fact that they’re pulling a face more akin to a Tyrannosaurus Rex than a model, and then have twenty consecutive photos that look exactly the same. Variety is clearly not the spice of their life.
Some cam-whores get absolutely coated in make-up before posing, to the point where you wonder what happened to the giant arachnid that donated its legs to- oh wait, they’re eyelashes with a bucket of mascara tipped on. Just because many great artists have made their masterpieces with paint and palette does not mean that painting yourself in swathes of foundation turns you into a work of art; it actually makes you look like you fell face-down into a soggy clay pit and forgot to wash afterwards. You don’t have to go au naturel if you want to look nice, but you don’t need to put blusher on clown-style, ok?
Another branch of the species insists on photoshopping photos until every blemish is pixellated into oblivion. In some ways this is worse; you don’t just want to see how attractive you can be in real life (even if that standard of ‘attractive’ is Katie Price-style), you want to pretend you’re an absolute babe with mad editing skills when actually it’s bleeding obvious you just mullered yourself into perfection on picnik.com! Step away from the Contrast slider and take a good long look in the mirror – providing your non-edited countenance doesn’t break it, that is.
The worst thing about these photos are the people who like them and leave obsequious comments like “Oh ma god babe u look stunnin xxx”. Photo fangirls are either blind or in thrall to desperate tricks with foundation and/or computers, and photo fanboys are just looking for a lay. But then if you’re practising either of these trades, you’re probably as insecure and attention-seeking as hell. If you’re not, then that’s how you’re coming across. Why don’t you leave the camera alone and go and do something more worthwhile with your time, eh?
2. Your sickly, theatrical declarations of undying love to/about your other half don’t present me with a picture of eternal love, they just make me think that you’re a suffocating girl/boyfriendzilla who’s in perpetual danger of being dumped.
There’s a Weezer song called ‘Love Is The Answer’. It’s not wrong. Love is certainly the answer to why I continually find myself wanting to strangle people on Facebook, and by ‘people’, I mean ‘nauseatingly love-delirious couples’. Now, if you’ve found your Beauty or Beast to complete your Disney fairytale life, good for you. I’m happy for you. Unfortunately, the more you express your undying devotion and commitment to your ‘baby boi/gurl’, the more unhappy I become. It’s not those forced and logistically impossible photos of you tickling each others’ tonsils as your profile pictures that are most stomach-turning (though they’re pretty gruesome), nor the excruciating poems that you write on each others’ Walls to apologise/articulate your love (which at least defuse the tackiness by being so bad they’re hilarious). No, it’s the ten statuses a day telling the world that “I love you soooooooooooooooo much” or “I have the best boyfriend/fiancé ever, he means the world to me, together 4ever babe xxx”.
Look: if you’re in a relationship, the chances are that you’re rather fond of your other half, and vice-versa. Maybe you sporadically want to shout your love and happiness to your friends! You could find a better way to do it than a gloopy status, and definitely a more romantic one, but perhaps it’s acceptable to do it once in a while. But it’s just infuriating when not only can you not stop telling everyone about your every date, movement and tiny detail of your relationship/lover’s life on the interwebs, but you then have to evidence your love by issuing a faux-profound declaration of l’amour between you. You might love your lover, but other people are beginning to hate you for your love-induced histrionics. That might not concern you for the time being – after all, you have love, a best friend, a bodyguard and a sex machine all rolled into one (the latter unless you’re a nun/monk-in-training or desperately asexual) – but when the love train gets derailed, you’ll probably regret your online schmaltziness. If you have to be a word-Casanova, can’t you just send your partner a private message or a text? Or, even better, tell them in person. That way, it’s more natural, more meaningful and, best of all, less exasperating to your ever-decreasing friends list.
3. Regarding statuses, I’m not just talking to the loved up… the more plaintive members of Facebook need to stop hammering complaints/whiny teenage angst song lyrics into their keyboard. Unless you’ve tried to make it amusing in some way, we don’t care. [Ditto boring Facebookers and boring statuses.]
I am a huge and vocal pessimist. Therefore you may think I’m being an absolute hypocrite with this point. However, unlike the online pessimists, I try to find the humour in a situation, however bleak. Obviously, some situations do not befit a humorous tone – death, illness, fear, relationship troubles. But when you’re just whining about everything, and taking yourself more seriously than Dr Sheldon Cooper, you should migrate to somewhere else. Try Twitter – it’s much better for ranting on, and has the added benefit that hardly anyone you know will be watching your meltdown! It’s also better for menial statuses or thoughts that pass through your head, for example: “I just weeded the garden”, or “I think I’ll email my friend”. Small nuggets of information that you feel better for verbalising, but don’t need to be put in the way of me and a good stalking session.
As for posting song lyrics… there are circumstances under which it is acceptable, the primary one being when they’re so hilarious you have to share them so other like-minded people with a sense of humour can appreciate the lyrical nous (example: “Flyin’ so fly with Virgin/Got a discount because I’m a virgin” and “Come to Dartford, pull a skaggy bitch, yeah, fuck it/Guaranteed to be more greasy than any Kentucky bucket” from 40DUBst’s excellently awful songs ‘Holiday’ and ‘Welcome to Dartford’). However, most song lyric statuses are Paramore or anguish-stricken generic pop-punk bands trying to muster some lyrical gravitas and failing miserably, and they’re then thrown online as a cowardly and badly-veiled attempt to confront someone the post’s author has recently been annoyed by. The thing is that these attempts at confrontation just make the author look more weak than they already are by having resorted to lyric confrontation. For a start, you’re not using your own words, you’re using someone else’s; then you’re not even quoting a good song! It’s all very awkward and cringe-inducing for the elder adolescents acting as voyeurs to their more youthful, GCSE-taking peers. Why don’t you leave the generic pop-punk bands to fester miserably in the dustbin of the ‘never-quite-weres’, thrash out your issues with the people face-to-face (or at least in a direct manner) and take time out to develop a sense of humour so you come across as having a personality instead of a whingeing fetish?
4. “______ ______ likes 7,813 pages.” You can’t be serious. Not even Santa likes 7,813 children enough to have them on his ‘Nice’ list. (Or Gary Glitter, but that’s a whole other form of ‘liking’.)
Facebook has some amusing pages. They go through little phases of themes, some funnier than others (swearing isn’t big or clever, but the “Like if you remember this mad cunt” about Brum nearly made me wet myself with amusement – something to do with the juxtaposition of childhood innocence and naughty fat swear words, I think, makes it so entertaining). Others are in-jokes aimed at certain niche markets (“A good Latin student never declines sex” is a fantastic example of this), some are ephemeral (anything to do with any sort of event – think the Royal Wedding or World Cup), some are to promote your friends’ endeavours, and some are just to fill out one’s info page. But no matter how witty some of them may be, there is no reason whatsoever to like thousands and thousands of them. Especially when you consider that a lot of said pages are ‘inspirational’ or romance-related bumf choked up by people attempting and failing to come across as being assertive or mature (the same way that sassy statuses tend to do). How could anyone possibly find it in them to like those horrific “He will love you, but then he will leave you and you’ll be so great without him that he’ll wonder what he missed out on” pages? Do people genuinely feel moved by that sort of crap?
You look at these serial-likers’ pages of choice, and realise that they’re like shopaholics. They don’t care what their next like is, they just need the adrenaline rush of clicking a button and seeing the ‘You like this.’ next to it. How else could you explain pages like “Like this if you’re on Facebook”? I suppose there could be an ironic touch to it, but there probably isn’t. It’s all so vacuous… –sigh, insert complaint about the youth of today here-