got this from mudboots and i like it
Read this really great description of myspace today in the
reno news and review. check it out.
"'Can MySpace Make You Go Blind?'
Have you ever had a habit so taxing it encompasses
all your free time? Have you ever felt the sweet embrace
of feeling dependent on an inanimate object as your only
means of human interaction? If not, you have never experienced
the pleasure--nay the purgatory--of a MySpace.
MySpace, a division of Fox media, is an online community
where people can meet, network, interact and do the things
normal human beings do face to face. You create a profile which
includes a little about yourself, a few pictures and a space to
blog out your thoughts. Your profile can include decorations as
ornate as intricate backgrounds, movies, music videos and even
your new favorite song. All in all, from the very beginning of
owning a space, you are your own PR director. You want to market
yourself like New Coke, using whatever means at your disposal to
ensnare people into your "network."
Now all is fun and games until someone loses their grasp on reality.
Being your own PR director is hard work. You have to update your space,
take new and much more flattering pictures--as many as humanly possible
from the most obscene angles--and you have to talk to people you've
never seen before. You gotsa have friends, right? You have to know
these people. They have to know you. Christ, everyone has to know
you, and if they don't, then they will, because tonight you are going
to go home and take as many pictures as your camera will hold. On the
rare occasion that you do venture out into the world, you will take
pictures of yourself in Wal-Mart. You'll be doing absolutely nothing
productive, but people will know how fun you can be as you fight with
swords in the aisles.
Soon after this phase, things start becoming a problem. Soon you
have friends, but you've never seen these people. You have never
shaken their hand; you have never looked them in the eye. You take
pictures of yourself that even your mother couldn't recognize.
But why?
It is my hypothesis that MySpace is the masturbation of interactions.
Nothing is like meeting someone beautiful, brilliant or even just
interesting--in the flesh. Connecting gazes, hearing voices,
touching, all for the first time, can be mind-blowing. When we take
the humanity out of interaction, we take away that part of ourselves
that can grow with each person we meet. Interacting on MySpace feels
good, works when you're alone and leaves you feeling momentarily satisfied.
But performance anxiety can be caused from never meeting someone face
to face, and when you finally do experience personal contact, you get
overexcited and end up going home humiliated. You never get enough,
whether it be comments, pictures or instant messages. You keep digging
to fill a void, while sinking deeper into your own new grave. Why
would you want to be a part of something so hollow? You never get to
know someone for what they truly are, just what they want to show the
world of the Internet. Saying you met someone through MySpace is like
saying you met someone's marvelous new sweater.
So what's my prescription? Burn this mother down. Delete your account,
and go write some poetry, go to a concert, set out each day and meet
someone new. Keep track of all these people--tally 'em up; and maybe--
just maybe--you will have as many real friends as MySpace friends.
reno news and review. check it out.
"'Can MySpace Make You Go Blind?'
Have you ever had a habit so taxing it encompasses
all your free time? Have you ever felt the sweet embrace
of feeling dependent on an inanimate object as your only
means of human interaction? If not, you have never experienced
the pleasure--nay the purgatory--of a MySpace.
MySpace, a division of Fox media, is an online community
where people can meet, network, interact and do the things
normal human beings do face to face. You create a profile which
includes a little about yourself, a few pictures and a space to
blog out your thoughts. Your profile can include decorations as
ornate as intricate backgrounds, movies, music videos and even
your new favorite song. All in all, from the very beginning of
owning a space, you are your own PR director. You want to market
yourself like New Coke, using whatever means at your disposal to
ensnare people into your "network."
Now all is fun and games until someone loses their grasp on reality.
Being your own PR director is hard work. You have to update your space,
take new and much more flattering pictures--as many as humanly possible
from the most obscene angles--and you have to talk to people you've
never seen before. You gotsa have friends, right? You have to know
these people. They have to know you. Christ, everyone has to know
you, and if they don't, then they will, because tonight you are going
to go home and take as many pictures as your camera will hold. On the
rare occasion that you do venture out into the world, you will take
pictures of yourself in Wal-Mart. You'll be doing absolutely nothing
productive, but people will know how fun you can be as you fight with
swords in the aisles.
Soon after this phase, things start becoming a problem. Soon you
have friends, but you've never seen these people. You have never
shaken their hand; you have never looked them in the eye. You take
pictures of yourself that even your mother couldn't recognize.
But why?
It is my hypothesis that MySpace is the masturbation of interactions.
Nothing is like meeting someone beautiful, brilliant or even just
interesting--in the flesh. Connecting gazes, hearing voices,
touching, all for the first time, can be mind-blowing. When we take
the humanity out of interaction, we take away that part of ourselves
that can grow with each person we meet. Interacting on MySpace feels
good, works when you're alone and leaves you feeling momentarily satisfied.
But performance anxiety can be caused from never meeting someone face
to face, and when you finally do experience personal contact, you get
overexcited and end up going home humiliated. You never get enough,
whether it be comments, pictures or instant messages. You keep digging
to fill a void, while sinking deeper into your own new grave. Why
would you want to be a part of something so hollow? You never get to
know someone for what they truly are, just what they want to show the
world of the Internet. Saying you met someone through MySpace is like
saying you met someone's marvelous new sweater.
So what's my prescription? Burn this mother down. Delete your account,
and go write some poetry, go to a concert, set out each day and meet
someone new. Keep track of all these people--tally 'em up; and maybe--
just maybe--you will have as many real friends as MySpace friends.