a dream of website obliteration
MySpace is an evil thing. Time goes in, empty flattery goes out. It's one giant, multinational bullshit generator. Once in a while you are able to use it to find an amazing person you wouldn't have encountered in person, but I feel I've found the best person on there already. I wish I could click a big delete button, kill the entire site.
I wonder if this hypothetical permanent deletion would lead to an increase in suicide rates. So many people live in there, it's scary. It's their whole fucking life, an image they've created for themselves. It's so much easier to be what they want to be on there- Photoshop out their pimples; write morbid little poems to show how deep they are; take photos that are from such a bizarre angle that they are rendered unrecognisable; be painfully pleasant and proclaim love and thanks and compliments to others. Eventually they'll have to snap out of it and realise that appearances don't matter, and Myspace appearances matter even less. They'll notice that people don't recognise them in real life and (hopefully) make snide remarks about the missing chins in their photos. Then they can chose to never re-enter the cruel real world, or destroy the persona they've invented. Some kill themselves when they see how pointless their life is and how trivial their pursuits are.
It's hard to filter out the fakes and find anyone who is looking for anything beyond comment numbers. And yet I stay, simply sometimes it's cheaper than using my mobile, and in hope of meeting the stray worthwhile human. For those reasons, and the blogging capacities (and potential for minion recruitment), I keep my stupid profile and put up with everyone's blind bullshit. Well I whine about it, in big fonts too. But they can't read my words, it's too difficult a concept for them to ever grasp.
If everyone succumbs like this, or even tolerates Myspace for its limited benefits, it will never die. We must abstain, resist the ego flattery. Then maybe advertising won't make myspace so much money, and the media tycoons can focus their attention on some next big thing instead, leave that place to rott.
I wonder if this hypothetical permanent deletion would lead to an increase in suicide rates. So many people live in there, it's scary. It's their whole fucking life, an image they've created for themselves. It's so much easier to be what they want to be on there- Photoshop out their pimples; write morbid little poems to show how deep they are; take photos that are from such a bizarre angle that they are rendered unrecognisable; be painfully pleasant and proclaim love and thanks and compliments to others. Eventually they'll have to snap out of it and realise that appearances don't matter, and Myspace appearances matter even less. They'll notice that people don't recognise them in real life and (hopefully) make snide remarks about the missing chins in their photos. Then they can chose to never re-enter the cruel real world, or destroy the persona they've invented. Some kill themselves when they see how pointless their life is and how trivial their pursuits are.
It's hard to filter out the fakes and find anyone who is looking for anything beyond comment numbers. And yet I stay, simply sometimes it's cheaper than using my mobile, and in hope of meeting the stray worthwhile human. For those reasons, and the blogging capacities (and potential for minion recruitment), I keep my stupid profile and put up with everyone's blind bullshit. Well I whine about it, in big fonts too. But they can't read my words, it's too difficult a concept for them to ever grasp.
If everyone succumbs like this, or even tolerates Myspace for its limited benefits, it will never die. We must abstain, resist the ego flattery. Then maybe advertising won't make myspace so much money, and the media tycoons can focus their attention on some next big thing instead, leave that place to rott.