Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
I knew it was over the night my mother phoned to discuss the inappropriateness of pornographic graffiti showing up on her news feed.
It could be that for a short time Facebook alone was enough to satisfy my need for self expression online. To blog seemed unnecessary when i could simply update my status. It seems that time is no more, im back.
They may have signed up in an attempt to appear with the times but the truth is not only do our parents not understand, shit would certainly hit the fan if they ever figured it out. To them, Facebook is a phenomena; An intricate construct of social networking filled with such a vast amount of apps that they just cant wrap their limited minds around it. (limited not by a lack of intelligence but by a lack of fundamental hard wiring in their brains. An effect of being raised in the period before Times New Roman overtook cursive writing)They may have accepted our abbreviated figures of speech, our reluctance to use capital letters and our absolute refusal to insert apostrophes but i think thats about as far as it goes. Dont bother trying to explain that before Facebook there was Friendster and before Friendster there was Myspace and before Myspace there was Nexopia. Dont even mention that before blogging there were livejournals. I wouldnt tell them that the list could go on and on, sometimes in a different order, depending on location/age/subculture/etc. They would be horrified to learn the amount of profiles we have filled out without so much as reading - or caring about - the privacy policy. How many lists of favorite bands, tv shows, books, and quotes have been left forgotten, floating lonely in cyber space only to emerge when your date from last Saturday googles your name. I wouldnt even consider letting them know that Facebook isnt the only social networking site being used today. That youth all over the world are also feeding their narcissistic urges with memberships on Twitter and the like.
My mothers furry was slightly subsided when i explained the difference between her news feed and her wall and that the picture was not drawn for her but for my friend. She seemed a bit less anxious when i assured her that (unlike herself) my little cousins have more than 12 "friends" on the book and it was doubtful the graffiti would have even made it to their attention.
She did NOT, however, accept the notion that the picture was anything but an embarrassment to my character; crude and unladylike. Nothing (not even explaining how Facebook friend Matt had changed his Facebook last name to Esticles and therefore I had no choice but to draw said pornographic image in order to get the most possible humour out of the situation) could convince her that this was funny. I am left with no other option but to censor myself until the next dominant design emerges and we can all flee leaving our parents wondering why we didnt RSVP to the baby shower on Thursday.
If you ask me, getting them to understand isnt worth the risk. It would be like trying to download the latest version of msn or itunes to Windows 95. It would be a painfully slow process, with every new update potentially overloading the already overworked hardrive. If i wasnt speaking metaphorically, i would secretly hope for that blue screen of death to come and justify my purchase of a new Macbook but i havent heard anything about Apple unveiling a new series of synapses for the incompatible brain of a Baby Boomer.
Love forever,
Jamie
They may have signed up in an attempt to appear with the times but the truth is not only do our parents not understand, shit would certainly hit the fan if they ever figured it out. To them, Facebook is a phenomena; An intricate construct of social networking filled with such a vast amount of apps that they just cant wrap their limited minds around it. (limited not by a lack of intelligence but by a lack of fundamental hard wiring in their brains. An effect of being raised in the period before Times New Roman overtook cursive writing)They may have accepted our abbreviated figures of speech, our reluctance to use capital letters and our absolute refusal to insert apostrophes but i think thats about as far as it goes. Dont bother trying to explain that before Facebook there was Friendster and before Friendster there was Myspace and before Myspace there was Nexopia. Dont even mention that before blogging there were livejournals. I wouldnt tell them that the list could go on and on, sometimes in a different order, depending on location/age/subculture/etc. They would be horrified to learn the amount of profiles we have filled out without so much as reading - or caring about - the privacy policy. How many lists of favorite bands, tv shows, books, and quotes have been left forgotten, floating lonely in cyber space only to emerge when your date from last Saturday googles your name. I wouldnt even consider letting them know that Facebook isnt the only social networking site being used today. That youth all over the world are also feeding their narcissistic urges with memberships on Twitter and the like.
My mothers furry was slightly subsided when i explained the difference between her news feed and her wall and that the picture was not drawn for her but for my friend. She seemed a bit less anxious when i assured her that (unlike herself) my little cousins have more than 12 "friends" on the book and it was doubtful the graffiti would have even made it to their attention.
She did NOT, however, accept the notion that the picture was anything but an embarrassment to my character; crude and unladylike. Nothing (not even explaining how Facebook friend Matt had changed his Facebook last name to Esticles and therefore I had no choice but to draw said pornographic image in order to get the most possible humour out of the situation) could convince her that this was funny. I am left with no other option but to censor myself until the next dominant design emerges and we can all flee leaving our parents wondering why we didnt RSVP to the baby shower on Thursday.
If you ask me, getting them to understand isnt worth the risk. It would be like trying to download the latest version of msn or itunes to Windows 95. It would be a painfully slow process, with every new update potentially overloading the already overworked hardrive. If i wasnt speaking metaphorically, i would secretly hope for that blue screen of death to come and justify my purchase of a new Macbook but i havent heard anything about Apple unveiling a new series of synapses for the incompatible brain of a Baby Boomer.
Love forever,
Jamie
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