I'm not posting the link to this post on Facebook.
It's not some great protest move or anything. It's just my bi-monthly bout of being fed up with Facebook. And that's fine. I think there are about 4 people that will actually come read this blog on their own without the link--and thank you for that. I could probably name them by name, but I don't want to embarrass them.
I think there are some good things about social media. Well, two that I can think of and they are both actually kind of mixed blessings.
The first is that whole argument of 'I found my long lost friend/cousin/roommate/bully-from-sixth-grade and reconnected.' That's fine. But what if that person wasn't really meant to be back in your life at this time? We are so "connected" to people that we wind up getting absorbed in the minutia of what people post on Social Media that we think we know them. What's worse--is that we think we know what's best for them. And sometimes that can be fucked up. We've forgotten how to talk to each other. How to write a letter. How to pick up the phone and call someone. The last time I checked, smart phones still made phone calls.
The second argument after the stay in touch camp is usually the "there are only certain events and info for those events only gets posted on facebook." Fine. If I do decide to leave Facebook, I'll have to hope that someone tells me about something that's going on. I mean, I hope my friends--my true/real life/sit on the patio and drink til 2AM friends have a way to get in touch with me that's not fucking facebook.
I look at the Facebook 'wall' (or news feed or whatever they're calling it this month) as a party. And I'm wandering through the party (scrolling) and overhearing various conversations. If it's a conversation that interests me, I'll hang out a little longer (comment/dive deeper in the thread). If not, I'll move to another conversation (keep scrolling). I can tell you this much, if the conversations are only about politics or religion, I'm going to keep walking. And I'm eventually going to leave the party.
That's about where I am now. I get this way when I see myself getting too caught up in the bullshit.
I could post a post that I'm going to leave Facebook, but that's pretty much a cry for attention. "I'm going to leave this horrible place because nobody understands me, so please tell me how much you love me and you'd miss me"
At this point I just don't give a fuck. I figure we'll start a detox. Take it off of my phone. Stop posting. And in a month or two just disable the account. And a month or two after that, maybe on my birthday, I'll delete the whole damn thing.
There are a few groups and events that I know I'll have to provide alternate contact methods, too. But I know that will be fine.
I'm listening to Steven Wilson's album, "Hand. Cannot. Erase." The concept of the album is about a woman living a big city who dies in her apartment and no one notices....for three years.
It's got me thinking....
And the muffled reports through my headphones are telling me that the Fourth of July Fireworks are starting. I'm just not feeling it this year. I don't want to be around people...a lot of random people...right now. And to be honest, the craning of my neck for that long just doesn't feel good.
But yes, back to the album based on the events surrounding the death of Joyce Carol Vincent. Makes me wonder sometimes, how long it would take someone to notice. And on the microcosm....if you never post on Facebook, is that the same, metaphorically, as separating yourself from society? So much of our current worldview is so joined at the hip with social media.
The good news is, these feelings that I'm working through definitely fuel the dystopian sci-fi piece I'm working on right now.
Sometimes unplugging isn't a bad thing at all.
It has been what...wait. That’s not right. Has it really been three months? Three months since I’ve dusted off the keys and put something up...
Greetings from SkaggleRock and the Gallifrey Annex. It's almost Fall. Well, technically it is Fall, but it's almost that magical 3 ...
The house lights are down. The audience an invisible mass gathered with a low jumbled murmuring sit restless, somewhere out there in a cloud...
It's 5:40 AM on a Wednesday. I have been up for an hour. I have an outline for a work in progress that I intended to work on this mornin...