Facebook is Evil
(this ended up a bit longer than expected, but I'm not gonna lj cut it)
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Facebook is evil. I know plenty of other people have said the same thing: it's a time suck, it's unnecessary drama, it limits real interpersonal interaction, etc. But those aren't the reasons I think Facebook is evil.
No I think Facebook is evil because it has me "stalking" people I don't even really care about. I have what I'll call a morbid curiosity about these people. And I'm disgusted with myself for my response to them.
As I may have mentioned before, I am the product of the time between my mother's two marriages. The biological sample donor has been out of the picture since before my birth. I have had little interest in him or in his life at any point in my life. I talked to him once on the phone more than a decade ago. I met his wife and daughter in person in 2002 (the daughter wanted to meet me). And I had some instant message exchanges with her after that. And that's about it.
Enter Facebook.
I decided I wanted to see if the "sister" was on Facebook, just so I could see how she turned out (I had some concerns because of the conversations on Yahoo! ... she was quite the angsty teen). And she made it way too easy to find the rest of her family. And while reading has made me realize how happy I am that he didn't raise me. My family was redneck enough. They make us look like right near high class.
But there's a small part of me - and this is the part that disgusts me - I'm a little disappointed that they seem happy. It's completely irrational. Part of it stems from the fact that the few exchanges I did have with the bio-dad involved him being a dick, that his wife came across as utterly racist, but they seem to be a happy family. And a I can't understand how...
Oh, and they all talk in text speak and it makes me cringe.
I really shouldn't care about their existence. It really came down to curiosity about the other daughter.
But it also brought up another thought chain about how I was brought up. By most accounts, my upbringing was abnormal. My mother was very open about her past with us. I mean she couldn't hide her first marriage; my brother was a product of that. And she couldn't really claim I was anything other than what I was; the wedding picture over the fireplace had a toddler-aged me in it. AND I remember the adoption ceremony when I was 5.
BUT, she could have ... omitted... so much. I learned about her first child when I was about 6 or 8 (Little House on the Prairie was playing in the background as she told my sister and me). She had him when she was 18. She put him up for adoption. She regretted it but didn't think she really had another option.
Her drinking lecture? "I used to have blackouts. And I know you're going to drink if you want to and nothing I say will change that, so just keep that in mind. It might be hereditary."
Sex lecture? I don't think there ever was an explicit one. I mean, what else was there to say? (see above)
And I like myself. I like that I'm open, I like that I can see different sides of an issue and evaluate my position based on evaluating that. I like that I can be friends with people who have diametrically opposed opinions about hot button issues.
Would I have been this way if she hadn't been so open?
I like to think that my healthy relationship comes from the fact that she was. The unhealthy part of the relationship comes from the fact that she couldn't always handle the situations she found herself in ... but that's a different story.
Now to figure out how to purge the morbid curiosity that wants me to read more of their drama ... it's so horrible.... and I can see how some people can get addicted to soap operas ... and it's all playing out on Facebook ... and ok, stopping now.
------
Facebook is evil. I know plenty of other people have said the same thing: it's a time suck, it's unnecessary drama, it limits real interpersonal interaction, etc. But those aren't the reasons I think Facebook is evil.
No I think Facebook is evil because it has me "stalking" people I don't even really care about. I have what I'll call a morbid curiosity about these people. And I'm disgusted with myself for my response to them.
As I may have mentioned before, I am the product of the time between my mother's two marriages. The biological sample donor has been out of the picture since before my birth. I have had little interest in him or in his life at any point in my life. I talked to him once on the phone more than a decade ago. I met his wife and daughter in person in 2002 (the daughter wanted to meet me). And I had some instant message exchanges with her after that. And that's about it.
Enter Facebook.
I decided I wanted to see if the "sister" was on Facebook, just so I could see how she turned out (I had some concerns because of the conversations on Yahoo! ... she was quite the angsty teen). And she made it way too easy to find the rest of her family. And while reading has made me realize how happy I am that he didn't raise me. My family was redneck enough. They make us look like right near high class.
But there's a small part of me - and this is the part that disgusts me - I'm a little disappointed that they seem happy. It's completely irrational. Part of it stems from the fact that the few exchanges I did have with the bio-dad involved him being a dick, that his wife came across as utterly racist, but they seem to be a happy family. And a I can't understand how...
Oh, and they all talk in text speak and it makes me cringe.
I really shouldn't care about their existence. It really came down to curiosity about the other daughter.
But it also brought up another thought chain about how I was brought up. By most accounts, my upbringing was abnormal. My mother was very open about her past with us. I mean she couldn't hide her first marriage; my brother was a product of that. And she couldn't really claim I was anything other than what I was; the wedding picture over the fireplace had a toddler-aged me in it. AND I remember the adoption ceremony when I was 5.
BUT, she could have ... omitted... so much. I learned about her first child when I was about 6 or 8 (Little House on the Prairie was playing in the background as she told my sister and me). She had him when she was 18. She put him up for adoption. She regretted it but didn't think she really had another option.
Her drinking lecture? "I used to have blackouts. And I know you're going to drink if you want to and nothing I say will change that, so just keep that in mind. It might be hereditary."
Sex lecture? I don't think there ever was an explicit one. I mean, what else was there to say? (see above)
And I like myself. I like that I'm open, I like that I can see different sides of an issue and evaluate my position based on evaluating that. I like that I can be friends with people who have diametrically opposed opinions about hot button issues.
Would I have been this way if she hadn't been so open?
I like to think that my healthy relationship comes from the fact that she was. The unhealthy part of the relationship comes from the fact that she couldn't always handle the situations she found herself in ... but that's a different story.
Now to figure out how to purge the morbid curiosity that wants me to read more of their drama ... it's so horrible.... and I can see how some people can get addicted to soap operas ... and it's all playing out on Facebook ... and ok, stopping now.