Social Media Etiquette for the 21st Century

(Yes, I said in the 21^st century, because I doubt there were high levels of fuckery going down in ’96 when Geocities was all the rage.)

QUICK FACT: Social media has now overtaken pornography as the No. 1 activity on the web. 

TRANSLATION: When pron (typo, and it stays) falls alllll the way to second place, the end of the world is nigh.

Still no reason to forget our manners, right?  We reviewed a little cell phone etiquette, so now let’s tackle this social media situation…

OVERVIEW:
The strange thing about social media is that waay back, before we had unlimited access to share and chat and be all up in each other’s thought processes - one could walk around with the notion that most folk were basically kind, intelligent, worthwhile human beings.

But not now; nope. The social media phenomenon has forced us to accept that the planet is rife with people who are sadly and profoundly - stupid. Or boring. Or mean, self-absorbed, small-minded, and/or suffering from a plethora of mental and personality disorders. 

I mean, just look.

Though social media is a fucking genius when it comes to real life issues - raising awareness, spearheading social causes, starting a revolution, disseminating information, holding the powers that be accountable - and for tasks such as marketing, advertising, showcasing original /talent content (music, literature, cinema, etc.), and clever entertainment.

Speaking of entertainment, though? OMG. The MEME movement is the BEST.THING.EVER.  

 

And gif’s - AWESOME.SAUCE.

(And I’m totally going to create my own, AND post them all over my blog. YOU WATCH, TIA.)

But back to minding our manners via:

TWITTER:  

I have some extremely intelligent, very interesting friends who hang out on Twitter. Personally, I can’t get into it. I can’t get into Twitter, just like I can’t get into ice swimming.  It’s just not my idea of a good time. What can I say? I just get the feeling that murky things go on there. Plus everybody uses it, which rarely turns out well. Etiquette infractions include:

Hashtag abuse:

Especially personalized hashtags that drag on and give dyslexic’s nervous breakdowns:

#thingsthathesaysthatmakemegoabsolutelyinsane

#justgottotheclubheynowwheremygirlsattimetoturnup

And, rampant stupidity:

Add to the list:

• Spelling/grammatical errors
• Wack twitter names and handles
• Endless re-tweeting
• USING ALL CAPS AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!
• Excessive emoji use (I freaking love emoji's.)

Side note: Twitter is great for: customer service resolutions, as a non-traditional news source, and roasting public figures who deserve it.

INSTAGRAM:
 

Folks kept saying you don’t have an Instagram account? you really need an Instagram account. So I got one.  And, so. This is where the all the foodies, #selfie fanatics, and amateur photogs/videoagraphers reside.

My daughter, for example, will Instagram snapshots of her everyday meals, and call it art. Which forces me to politely say, no sweetheart, just because you’ve captured a bitten into grilled cheese sandwich and slapped a filter on it, does not make it art. And then I’ll show her a place where art lives.

It’d be more exciting (and less obnoxious) if Instagram users would be kind enough kick it up a notch. A lot of the content looks awfully pedestrian. Interesting cuisine, breathtaking scenery, and fashion shoots are awesome to look at; but a little more creativity is in order. Maybe jump out of a plane, and Instagram an expression pic as you fumble for the parachute release strap? Now that would be cool.

PINTEREST:

Great concept. Love the virtual personalized boards with all kinds of neat categories. I use it about twice every fiscal year, so not familiar with its annoyance level.  Is social media etiquette routinely skirted there? Hit me up, Pinterest people!

Otherwise, it seems pretty harmless. Or maybe it’s just another way to waste time online. Wouldn't it be more fulfilling to get out in the real world and hit a few thrift stores or an estate sale or accomplish a DIY project that once finished, can be posted on Instagram with all kinds of fancy special effects accompanied by a clever hashtag? (but what the fuck do I know)

FACEBOOK:

The most egregious crimes of social media etiquette continue to take place here. Let's review:

Tip #1: Pretend you’re at a party. All of your FB friends are attendees. Would you strike up convo about that great movie (or book, restaurant, cable TV series, whatever), or your
travel bucket list, or go with an interesting anecdote/observation - or would you lead with how much you hate your job, or that your kid vomited on you last night? Now, if you can make the kid-vomit story interesting, then go ahead. If not, wait for something more electrifying to share.

Tip #2: If you do choose to post about yourself, politely do us all a favor and have a pretty amazing existence or lifestyle. Like one of my favorite girls right here. She’s always up to something fresh and entertaining. She's talented, fabulous, extremely humble and grounded, interesting, and a world traveler. AND SHE'S FROM INGLEWOOD. (What up, Shan!) Now, would you rather read about someone who says: I'm getting ready to go to work, or I'm getting ready to go to GUAM/GREECE/GERMANY?

Tip #3: Please keep in mind, Facebook is not:

• A diary
• A blog
• A personal newsletter
• An advice column
• A place to incessantly talk about yourself (see Tip #2)
• To be used in place of professional therapy
• A place to hash out family, parental, or relationship issues for the world to see
• A place to drop terrible news to or about someone without first attempting a more discreet mode of communication
• Add your pet peeve here ________________

Actually, I think there should be a separate Facebook for each subject matter or interest. Yes. I am advocating Facebook segregation. It makes sense, for us and Zuckerberg. (somebody get him on the horn) That way we can talk freely amongst ourselves, with our own kind, and not bore the outsiders to tears.

There would be a designated Facebook world for each tribe:  (a) parents, their woes, and their wacky kid tales (b) complainers and venters, (c) people on the prowl and/or looking for dates, (d) the exercise extremists, (e) the foodies, (f) fashionistas, (g) religious freaks, (h) celebrity gossipers, (i) the conspiracy theorists, (j) the druggies, (k) the metaphysical and enlightened Ones, (l) the financial schemers and planners, (m) the wanna-be stand-up comedians (n) gang-members, (o) people who want to endlessly talk about relationships, etc.  (My only friends on Facebook would be other people who also hate Facebook.)

Tip #4: Standard FB etiquette requires asking yourself these hard-hitting questions: 

• Is this post in some way witty, profound, remarkable, newsworthy, thought-provoking, interesting, or intriguing? AND IF NOT,
• Why am I posting this?
• Who am I posting this for?
• Am I talking about myself again?
• Am I talking to myself again?
• Am I talking about the same old shit again?
• Do I have a compulsion I need to address?
• Am I posting this specifically to get the attention of one particular person/group, yet being all pass-agg about it? 
• Will I feel better after posting this?
• Is this something I want my grand-kids to stumble across when they Google me in 20 years?

In other words, Darlings - refrain from posting anything that you don’t mind being examined, commented on, and/or talked about out here in these Facebook streets. Unless, of course, you don't give a shit. Which leads me to...


The Unfriend Finder:

APPARENTLY, PEOPLE DO GIVE A SHIT: Yes, there is an app to find out who unfriended you on Facebook. (Twitter, Instagram, etc.) My daughter regrettably informed me this is actually a thing. This should be called the you've got to find better things to do with your time app. Because, really? WELCOME BACK TO HIGH SCHOOL.

Final tip: So many of us worry about the NSA or whoever (Putin? the Aliens?) violating our privacy, despite being overly enthusiastic about posting every second of our natural lives on social media. All of the info we volunteer online is viewed, tracked, and disseminated by employers, advertisers, identity thieves, governmental agencies, etc. That's the agreement we make when using social media. Also keep in mind, internet content lives forever. (Forever ever) So be smart, be savvy, and always mind your manners!

Are You Not Entertained?

Social media has never provoked a high level of disgust in me (shout out to my buddy Zed) - until I saw a Facebook status update from a funeral. How did I know it was from a funeral? Because that was the purpose of the update - to let everyone know they were in the same room as a coffin, paying their respects. After witnessing this gross display of indecency, I felt a seething hate for humanity. Especially humans compelled to document every movement of their lives on Facebook.

I understand Facebook is voluntary, and not an as-yet requirement for inclusion on the planet. I initially joined for the same reasons we all did - mindless entertainment. Back in '06, it was a novel way to keep track of friends, family, wayward children, ex-lovers, enemies, current events, etc.

Now? It's a complete clusterfuck. A posterchild for meglomania. A place where people seldom dialogue about thought-provoking issues, but sit around and circulate bad memes, complain/humble brag about their lives, force you to look at 500 page virtual photo albums, gossip, proselytize, commit uncalled-for hash tag or emoji abuse, post snapshots of kale smoothies; or make shameless exhaustive monologues on life lessons, shitty relationships, personal prayers, or the existential crisis one experiences after being snubbed by a friend’s cat.

Just when did Facebook become the equivalent of the goddamn Hunger Games? I'm not referring to the casual users. I'm talking about folks who act as if they fail to contribute twenty plus updates per day, they will ABSOLUTELY KEEL OVER AND DIE. 

I’d been studying for an exam the last few months, so I'm not sure when my Facebook feed devolved into professionally edited snapshots of pizza, #selfies, sweaty people on gym equipment, song lyrics, and Candy Crush invites. I knew there were compelling events going on in the world (Ukraine, Putin, the Michael Dunn case, Oscar Pistorius, the two US astronauts currently stuck in outer space, The Affordable Care Act, MH370, House of Cards Season Two, etc.), yet all of them took a back seat to what somebody's stupid coworker WORE ON TUESDAY.

So this is what we’re doing now.  How repellant. It's tantamount to group masturbation, with everyone jerking off to their own lives, inviting other people to watch. For why? Because in the 21st century, self-absorption is the look. We must proclaim ZOMGG I'M READING A BOOK, as if it's some peculiar activity that other mere mortals don't do. If we have an experience and don't post it on Facebook, does its significance cease to exist? Is it really that difficult to be still, be present, and bask in the experience of life without the need to document every second of it?

And what happened to living in stealth mode? Whatever happened to SECRETS? Secrets (healthy ones) are provocative, intriguing, sexy.  Secrets – just like modesty, demureness, humility, discretion, class, tact, and decorum - need to make a comeback.

BECAUSE YOUR NARCISSISM IS BORING.

Though I couldn't help but wonder (©): Are people happier this way, compulsively posting about their daily lives? The idea vexed me. I was completely vexed.

Maybe I was missing out.

So I conducted an experiment. I decided to consistently update my FB feed over a span of 48 hours, to see if my personal fulfillment meter surged exponentially. The extra kick was that I got all satirical about it, by posting the same type of mind-numbing, frustratingly mediocre junk that others rudely foist onto their FB counterparts. (who, believe me - have done nothing to deserve it.) No, I’m not above a bout of petty passive-aggressiveness in order to have a little fun.

EXPERIMENTAL DATA, DAY ONE:

Status updates: Photo post from the checkout line at the grocery store.  Announce I was purchasing greens and chicken wings. Post picture of a Ralph’s water bottle, which accompanied dinner. Post that I was about to watch Basketball Wives.  The next morning, post about a delicious red apple I enjoyed as a snack (with photo), post that I'd listened to Carly Simon and Mack 10 on Spotify. Next, a random post of some freak on the internet, an update about my afternoon walk, another post to indicate I was enjoying the day, followed by two status updates on the weather, then a post asking for donations on behalf of the International Bird Rescue. After that -  a Drake meme, then a post announcing my water intake due to the hot weather, a post about taking lunch, a snapshot of said lunch, a mid-day selfie, an almost decade old picture of my kids, an exercise video on planking, a conversation re-enactment had with a co-worker, a snapshot of a caramel rice cake (another snack), a twerk video, a Jesus quote, that I was stuck in rush hour traffic, and a post when I’d finally made it home. Posted about my 20 minute stationary bike workout, then ended the evening with a goodnight post.

EXPERIMENTAL DATA, DAY TWO:

Status updates: A post about a mockingbird that kept me up until 2 a.m. A "good morning, stay positive" post. A picture of a wedding dress. A weather update. A random post about the dude sitting across from me in a café, who looked like a serial killer. Posted lyrics to Drunk In Love, made one post each about Donald Sterling and the anniversary of the LA riots (to see if anyone would bite), a post about the Panda Cam live feed, a post about how much I missed Sassy (my dog), another picture of Sassy, three more pictures of Sassy, a random wisecrack, an excerpt from the book of Exodus. Next post was about my commute home, and that I was on the 10 freeway and drinking vodka (I got a few likes, and no one seemed concerned). Next, a post announcing I'd arrived home, and a final picture of Sassy and two lumps of dried shit she'd left in her potty area - hashtagged. (#twolittlePoopsofLove.)

DATA ANALYSIS AND FINDINGS:

A.     EXHAUSTION: At the end of Day One, I was completely drained. Interrupting my life, to post about my life was unexpectedly tiring. Or, posting such self-absorbed drivel basically sapped my creative energy. It felt like an empty exercise. By the end of Day Two, I was sick of my phone, sick of FB, and sick of myself.

B.     UNPRODUCTIVITY: In the days prior to the experiment, I ‘d been reading two books, journaling, working on blog updates, helping my daughter with her t-shirt store website, catching up on new epi's of Anthony Bourdain’s travel show, and doing some gardening. I accomplished very little of that during the experiment. There is only so much free time in a day, especially after work and other personal responsibilities.  I couldn’t be actively creative AND update Facebook – it was one or the other. FB is a cunning time dump.

C.     SOCIAL INTERACTIONS: I was constantly distracted. I made very little eye-contact with people. I tried to help my daughter with her project during my "experiment," but I wasn’t present with her. I  half- listened. I kept putting her off. She got impatient, which frustrated me even more. I also like to chat with the small sociopaths neighborhood kids when I get in from work - to ask them what they learned, and remind them to stay off my grass. Bypassed that, because I was too busy trying to get inside and resume the experiment. Instead of chilling in the backyard with my pooch, I kept trying to get her to pose for FB pics. She didn't cooperate, nor did she appreciate it. My selfish antics were impacting others. I was simultaneously neglecting people AND getting on their nerves.

D.    FEEDBACK AND RESPONSES: As a result of my increased posting and subject matter, I was inundated with texts, emails, and phone calls inquiring: (1) if my FB account had been hacked (2) if I was okay, (3) if I was engaged in some kind of ironic performance art social media protest, or (4) if I was off my meds. I assured those who didn’t already know, the answer was #3. Those who didn’t know me as well (obviously,) seemed delighted in my sudden participation in Facebook life, and rewarded me with “likes” accordingly. Only three people de-friended me. Not too many cared about the serious topics (Sterling, The Riots), but the mockingbird post and Bey’s song lyrics were winners.

I was also chided that I didn't go hard enough with this experiment, and needed way more status updates, a shit ton of selfies with bad lighting and filters, more typos, more randomness, and more hideous pics of food closely resembling vomit. (shout out to Manochinita)

  E. PERSONAL OBSERVATIONS:  I felt anxious and disconnected. I didn't feel present in my real life, with the people and activities which meant most to me. It was difficult keeping up the momentum at the office, because I'm required to do a certain level of interacting. I do however get that stationary/isolating office gigs can lead to excessive FB posting. Which basically falls under the category of boredom.  There are a hundred other ways to actively (vs. passively) combat boredom.  Even if trapped behind a desk, one can make the most of it -  maybe actually apply yourself to the job you'd like to keep, enroll in an online course, study a new language, brainstorm on personal projects, pen a handwritten letter, take a walk, break your fingers, snort some bath salts, jump off a cliff.  Just.don't.waste.your.life.online.

Sidenote: I did observe a lot of emotional venting on Facebook. I get the feeling some people utilize FB to effectively drown out the reality that their lives might be lacking, unrewarding, empty, dysfunctional, lonely, or unhealthy.  For that, the best resources would be serious self-examination, a private journal, and professional therapy.  Zuckerberg don't give a damn about your mental health.

The comic Louis CK said it better:

You need to build an ability to just be yourself, and not be doing something. That's what phones are taking away, is the ability to just sit there.

That's being a person. And sometimes when things clear away, you're not watching anything, you're in your car, and you start going, 'oh no, here it comes. I'm alone.' It's starts to visit on you. Just this sadness. Life is tremendously sad, just by being in it...

That's why we text and drive. I look around, pretty much 100 percent of the people driving are texting. And they're killing, everybody's murdering each other with their cars. But people are willing to risk taking a life and ruining their own because they don't want to be alone for a second because it's so hard.

   F. FINAL TAKEWAY:  As suspected, my productivity and mental state hit their zenith when living outside the Facebook trap. I have three very good friends who drop kicked Facebook a few years ago, to focus on their real life passions and goals.  They are now, as follows: a social worker, an RN, and a law school student. They weren't posting updates about their case studies or anatomy exams, they were quietly doing their work.  A fulfilling, exciting life isn’t like a business - you don’t have to advertise.

I have yet to deactivate my account for two main reasons:  First, I live for the authentic interactions I have with an amazing group of women (most of whom I know in real life) and our primary mode of sharing is via a private group on Facebook. Second, I am an observer of the human carnival, and Facebook is prime territory to watch it unfold.

The fuckery is entertaining.

Dear Facebook: I See What You Did There

For two complete years, I've threatened to start another blog; for no other reasons than to respark my dwindling creativity, jump start my new manuscript, and regain some discipline. I even registered a few blogs, complete with cutesy titles and introductory entries, only to lose/forget the passwords or domain names; and then blithely drop the whole idea.  

I continued to journal of course, to cope and maintain my sanity; and for fear of losing the ability to write longhand permanently. I started using the phrase "in between projects," convincing myself that I would mini-flex my writing muscles daily - by posting on Facebook. 

Turns out, Facebook is a dangerous place. A slippery slope for writers; particularly unfocused and self-deluded ones.  The fantastic and troubling thing is, you can publish yourself instantly. Constantly. Exhaustingly. It's the crack cocaine of the net.

Starts like this: you post excerpts and ideas for that hot manuscript, then maybe a few inspirational quotes. You express your eternal awe for Rilke and Plath. You even dare to upload a photo (or 500) of yourself, doing...stuff. Activities. At the grocery store, in the pub. You then become a brazen individual who informs everyone when you last ate/slept/shat. One day you glance over at that stupid timeline, and witness the accumulation of trite bullshit in which you willingly engaged (celebrity gossip, the quiz defining your kissing style, a beautifully Instagrammed picture of the 405 freeway at dusk) and you wonder what you've really been doing with your life. 

And how bizarre is it that Facebook makes me ponder my own mortality?  Perhaps I die tomorrow, and my last Facebook post turns out to be uninspiring and prosaic, like "my deodorant is failing me?"  A status update can easily become your famous last words. Don't get me started about death and Facebook. We've all heard of, or had a friend who died - yet their Facebook page remains as some kind of luminous memorial. You expire, but your Facebook page won't. People continue to drop in, rifle through your photos, re-read all your hopes and dreams never realized, make comments, write on your wall, all without your fucking permission.

Or let's say you commit some uncool crime, and the media and detectives scour your page, sift through your alter egos and mindless ramblings to figure out where you fall in the DSM.

These thoughts horrify me.

I get it. We need a way to pass time while stuffed away in an office, or waiting to board some plane. But why do we still clamor to it on weekends? During "free" time? Do we need constant reassurance that our life means something? And the measuring stick is our photo albums and status updates?

Facebook celebrates the mundane; the minutia of daily life. It traps both simple minds and free thinkers. It has useful purposes, of course. Yet it also breeds an eerie, acceptable form of narcissism.

I won't even get into the godlessness that is Twitter.

Yes, I see what you did there, Facebook. Always feigning interest, with the How are you feeling? or What's going on with you? prompts at the top of my page. You don't give a shit about my wants and needs - but your advertisers do. And the fact that you're the brainchild of this brilliantly akward dude who didn't possess enough swag to meet chicks in real life - kinda makes it even more lame.

So here's what: I'm ditching my own lame factor. Branching out. Dabbling into new, groovy on and offline things.

Meanwhile, guess I"ll take a wild, girlish fling at writing.

Again.