the data retch

I'm completely fine with facebook. I have no problem with it. I can see where I might be perceived as being hostile towards social media, but that's really not the case.

I guess it is a little difficult to see the bright side of it, but...trying to be positive about the whole thing.

I don't think it can be denied that social media has grown into this viciously hungry, inexorable, all-consuming shit-wave of mass extroversion...but that's probably fine.

I just breathe in, breathe out; tell myself: social media is a positive, constructive development in the macro-structure of Human Communication.

I just go with it.

Where I do have a minor quibble with social media: I think it and introversion are mutually exclusive. No overlap. Period. I think social media and introversion are antithetical to one another. Blood enemies.

Most likely, arguments to the contrary can be made, but I'm dogmatic in my belief. If you make a counter-argument, I will plug my ears and hum.

I believe this...and am dogmatic about this...because I tried to create a facebook account one time.

This is what happened:

One day I created a facebook account. This was a few years ago. The site had just started to get big...people were saying, "This is the Next Big Thing!" And I was swayed by that. It's true, I'm swayable. I want to sit at life's Cool Table.

So I started a facebook account and I thought that, perhaps, I would post the kinds of material that I post here. Personal shit. Humiliating shit. Deep, dark embarrassments from years past.

I filled out a profile, posted it. One hour later: I had 50 friend requests.

And not the good kind. Not the like-minded-people kind.

The requests were from, as follows: my mom; my brother; assorted family that I hate, hadn't seen in years; old neighbors that I once hated; friends from 20 years ago that I never really liked to begin with; friends of friends from 20 years ago; my mom's preacher, my dads's proctologist, a guy who had sold me a dented trumpet when i was 13, and so on.

Fuck! Nightmare!

It was like facebook had triggered the gag reflex of my past.

And my past retched.

And out of it...out of that jaundiced vat of experience...came bad memories and forgotten horrors.

I'm not educated about social media. Until that moment, I didn't realize that the technology was such that facebook would connect you to people from your past. I didn't even know that was possible. My goal had been to create an account and replicate the kind of anonymity I'd enjoyed with blogs.

So it was a real shock to see all of those friend requests...to see all of that social detritus...bitter detritus that I'd swallowed, piece by piece over the years, forced down, tried to keep hidden.

And then, in the simple act of posting a profile, the detritus heaved back up, violently, all at once. And it wanted to be friends.

Re-connecting with the past: not my thing.

I deleted the account immediately. Closed the lid to my laptop. Went to the back yard. Dug a whole. Buried the laptop...deep. (Poured concrete over it, etc.)

Anyway, that was my one experiment with facebook. Lasted about an hour.

I'm sure it's possible to use facebook in a truly meaningful way. I know a lot of people who post there about important topics, issues...connect with people, create vibrant communities. But I'm pretty sure I would just play farmville compulsively and post fart jokes and twitter about eggrolls and socks. I'm not going to, for example, advocate civil disobedience and incite revolution (I'm looking right at you, Tunisia).

The point being that I'm not inclined to have an account, but even if I did, I'm pretty sure I would misuse it in a serious way.

Wait, wait, I'm off topic. What I'm saying is that...I am pro-social media! Blogs like this one are a form of social media. Sure, it's anonymous and five people read this site and I post, on average, about once a decade...but it's social media and I'm participating.

So it's all good. I'm upbeat about the whole thing.