Fakebook – The Story of Our Lives
I aint here to hate, Facebook is one of the greatest creations of our generation (If I were Zuckerberg I would have totally stolen that idea from those boat rowing twin brother douche bags as well); However, while it was designed to connect human beings to the things and people we love, it has devolved into a platform for us to showcase just how awesome and important we think our lives are. A giant forum for over 1 billion false individual advertising campaigns. It’s pretty easy to make ourselves look cool when we can compile all of our finest moments onto 1 page. Wouldn’t be so easy if we also had to share our worst moments (cry sessions in the shower, being awkward in social situations, watching reruns of Family Guy alone on a Friday night…). None of us are as cool as we think we are, so let’s stop pretending to be.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m just as guilty as the next person of being an online boaster. I feel like a boss every time someone likes one of my posts, I’m always scrolling through my pics to see which ones I look the coolest/hottest in, and I am constantly gauging how much better or worse I am doing at life then all of my 1,456 friends (If you just told yourself you have more friends than me, go f*** yourself). But I’d prefer to see a Facebook for the other 99% of our lives. The part where we are not climbing mountains in Costa Rica, leading the conga line at a wedding party, or being at that awesome concert we want everyone to know we went to (The Kings of Leon are so sick, brah!). I get it, we all do really cool stuff from time to time, but lets’ stop feeling the need to tell everyone when we do.
Remember when we used to make fun of World of Warcraft players for being online all of the time and living vicariously through a false digital persona? Well, in a way, we have all become World of Warcraft players. The only difference is, instead of shooting weapons and spells at each other, we shoot pictures, videos and status updates (Level 9 hilarious Youtube clip I found – Kazam!). We have transformed into what we have made fun of the most, making us the ultimate hypocrites. And to be honest with you, I think World of Warcraft is actually cooler than Facebook. The other day, I saw a girl post a picture of a giant Cinnabon, and she got 18 likes in 20 minutes without even adding her thoughts. Just a picture of some food she bought at a food court, and somehow 18 people were there to reinforce her unhealthy eating habits and obnoxious social behavior. I’m clearly not a genius, but if you ask me, wizards and trolls > Farmville and food pictures. We’re all walking around in a little known place called “loser denial”.
Facebook does to our image what makeup does to a girl’s face – it covers up the crap. We can pick and choose exactly how we want the “world” to see us. Don’t like how you look in a picture you were tagged in? Untag it. Someone sends you a message to respond to? Spend as long as you want coming up with a fun and witty response. You really like a video that you just saw on Youtube? Post it and show everyone just how awesome you are for liking such awesome things. I feel like we have all become a bunch of politicians campaigning for friends, attention and artificial online love (we crave “likes” like white kids in the 90s craved Sunny D). Life is too short to be spent competing for the approval of others. And at the end of the day, when the makeup has been removed, we’re all a bunch of self-centered ass holes anyways.
Social media has changed the way we think about ourselves and our lives. Anything semi-interesting that happens to us is something we feel like the world needs to know about because it helps paint that picture of who we want to be. A caricature of our actual selves. I don’t care if you have 10,000 friends, 400,000 Twitter followers or the greatest Instagram profile of all time. I care about who you are in the world we live in. Remember that place? The earth? Stop living to impress your “friends” and start living to make the most of our inconsequential existence.
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