Thursday, September 5, 2013


   For me (and millions of others) it started with Blogspot and Myspace. Here was a quick and easy way to get art, writing and music out to an audience of like-minded individuals, "friends" if you will, within a format that was a breeze to navigate. No more paying to have someone host your website or even trying to get published. One could write, or for a time even record live over the phone (this blogspot option is no longer available), hit a button and publish worldwide. There was no money in it. But at least it didn't all sit in the closet. It was a new world.
    Then came facebook. By the time fb was on my radar, I'd already chilled on visiting the Myspace page. I still blogged regularly, but found Myspace a dusty corner that smelled of cat piss. I closed the door. My more hooked up friends said I should try facebook. I resisted...then relented. I'm as weak as the next guy.
   It was love at first sight. Immediately I trolled my more famous friend's pages for "friends". Sending requests out, I waited patiently for their acceptance. If it was not forthcoming I felt a pang of rejection. If I gained a new friend I felt joy. This was the beginning of the emotional roller coaster that is fb. Say what you will about Mark Zuckerberg, he's a fucking genius. Has anyone ever received as many birthday cards as they do fb well wishers on a birthday?  I started mining all my artwork, past and present, posting it on my page and waiting for a response. My first "like" was a sweet kiss of validation.
    As time went by I linked HWS to my fb page in order to make it easy for people to click on a new post and read it. No fuss. No muss. Unlike a lot of people, I did not use it for family contact. I love my family and see enough of them, without watching every subtle change in a gurgling baby's demeanor  on a daily basis. I wanted to use it to reach people I would not normally have access to on an egalitarian level, ie. Artfags. When I bored of posting I would comment. I tried to be pithy, and opinionated. It wasn't much of a stretch. The comment is like writing a haiku. Get to the point and move on. Sometimes I "liked" something. It was all groovy. Then something happened.
    The genius of Zuckerberg is he knows how to fuck with your wiring. Skinner and Pavlov have nothing on him. I began to check fb obsessively to see how many "likes" and/or comments I had collected on my posts. If I had no likes on a particular posting, that I thought was worthy of great praise, I questioned myself. Was I wrong? Did I suck? Then, one day, I was unable to access my page. I received a WARNING! that one of my vaginas or titty pics. was offensive to my "community" and I was being punished for 24 hours. OK. I can do the time, but what exactly was my crime? A few months later it happened again. This time I was informed that I had two strikes. Three strikes and I would be removed.

   This 3 strikes and your out rule was the beginning of the end for me. It was like learning the hot girl you think you are in love with is actually a racist, who was stealing the rent money. I began to question if this relationship was a healthy one. Then one morning, I started making steps towards severing my ties with facebook. Even this was not easy. It took two weeks to delete the page. At first it was tough. I missed arguing with Kenny Schacter. I missed the "likes". I felt isolated. Was the party still going on without me? Was I even missed? But, like finally getting away from the racist, you begin to see that she wasn't really that hot. In fact with a little perspective you can see how ugly she was on the inside. To all of you who think she broke up with me. You're way off. I left on my own. And I feel sooooo much better about myself. I am a good person.    


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home