More On Facebook (get it?)

and another thing...hasn't this "Facebook" served to cheapen the notion of "Friend"? Some guy I knew in passing, some friend of my parents who pinches my cheeks to often, someone I wouldn't acknowledge on the street is asking me to be my friend. Now, not only do I have to remember what my conection was and open myself up to all the fringe lunatics who are orbiting this fringe lunatic, but I have to entertain and amuse and be a good host. Friendship is earned and there should be the right, through some kind of offensive and possibly arbitrary point system, to start acquaintances, or distant memories at the appropriate level and then move them up as they earn their position. i should be able to say "no" to someone's friend request without getting a horrible sense of guilt. I shouldn't have to ask anyone else "who is this person who has sent me a friend request" -- there should be an application: 'Tell me why i liked you then and should care now, in 75 words or fewer.'

We'll have celebrity judges and everything.

My friendship is valuable as is my time.

The "internet"

Fascinating phenomenon this network of interconnected computing devices. It might just catch on. I must say, though I was involved with advanced geekdom many years ago, I never could have imagined the mainstream popularity of sitting front of a computer screen and interacting with photons and phantoms.

But before I digress, allow me to digress. There is something strange and affecting about the web. I know that it, and its concommitant stylistic and technical limitations has spawned many a dialect and subdialect of standard written English. The hybrid E-nglish or IMSpeaking (I just made those up...spread the word and make me famous...alert Bill Safire if he's still alive) have been explored to some degree and the code shifting problems associated with the plethora of jargons is well known. What I'm finding, though, is that the web is creating a subculture of voyeurism which is unprecedented in history.

Google, the monolith you love to love, has allowed us to peer into the lives of all sorts of people. between random web hits from some half a sentence that some guy you knew 20 years ago put on a stupid blog that he...oh...yeah, well, besides that off chance encounter, job details, press mentions and all that has been laid bare. Aerial photos of houses and pictures of events, plus whitepages listings, memberships..it's all there and more. But, there's a new player in the "I want the whole world in my hard drive" game. Facebook.

I know...facebook is neither original nor unique but I just got into it so I get to decide how new it is. What Afcebook allows is for us to peek into the private lives of the people we just barely remember -- we no longer have to work at remembering people...the internet saves them for us. We can see what they look like now without having the awkward silence when we see each other by accident at some Sushi place that neither one of us likes. We are inspired to send random messages to people who share a name with someone we knew way back when, in the hope that either this is a long lost friend, or someone has a good sense of humor. We no longer have to move on and reestablish ourselves because we can take our entire history along with us.

Gone are the days of "whatever happened to?" because we can find out most anything about anyone. Gone is the wistful feeling of the long lost faces in the recesses of our minds. Is this a good thing? Does it inspire a sense of connectedness between the peoples of the world that I find that someone I knew from one circle somehow is attached to someone I knew from another? Will we all reduce the degrees of separation to 3 in an attempt to save energy? Should someone feel guilty because he looked at pictures of an old girlfriend or because she now sends messages to old boyfriends? Do we destroy the social boundaries which exist in real life because, on a computer, I can be friends with celebrities, co workers and my kids' friends, all with the same level of effort?

Is the world getting smaller because of the internet, or just messier as what might have been discrete time periods, filed neatly away, now have to comingle like so much comingling stuff.

I want answers. Just not good ones -- if I set my sights lower, I usually end up OK.

What a day

So let's see...what happened today?

Well, we had another blackout (number 4 in 2 weeks), I went to Boro park this morning, and, oh, yeah, I went to a 25th reunion for my 8th grade graduating class.

These people are all interesting and stuff, but my kids redeemed me.

Remind me to thank the kids.

When I grow up

I want to think about studying cognitive psychology.

I don't want to major in reverse psychology.

I want to hit the people who study abnormal psychology.

Eventually I want to study developmental psychology.

I want to find out why I want to study psychotherapy.

My mother wants me to study psychoanalysis.

I wanna studee child sikolojee.

I want to be a licensed psychologist, but with a fishing license.

I'll need Ritalin to help me study psychopharmacology.

 

I actually want to be an understudy, just not an actor. I want to understudy at a bistro in the Village. I'll walk through the tables and say "I won't take your order, but if, for some reason, your regular waiter can't take your order, then I'll do it."

for lawyers

well...and bakers.

And this is an aural joke.

The lawyer and the baker finally agreed -- when the baker presented his new product, a flourless chocolate cake, the lawyer was incredibly offended and hurt.

They both considered it a tort(e).

say it out loud and it works better.

Here's the pitch

I rarely get an idea for a TV show and rarer still is the time when something comes to me in a dream like half sleep and I remember it. But with the half sleep being the norm these days, I stand a statistically significant better chance of remembering.

It is called "One Weak." Dumb title, I know.

Each week the show documents the impending breakup of a romantically involved couple. This is NOT a reality show, but a Hollywood produced piece of fiction, so all sorts of relationships and people are shown. The thing is, Hollywood produces 2 andings and viewers are encouraged to phone/text in votes for whether the couple breaks up. The phoning takes from 30 minutes after the hour to 45 after and then the final 15 reveal what America wants to see happen to this particular couple, slickly produced etc. Note -- this is not a reality show -- both options are scripted, well written and acted. No trick endings, and no surprises. America wants to see them together, they end up together. Separate, fine.

That's what I got. Now start sending me money you crazy fools.

The poor FLies

I have been thinking about flies -- summer is coming and I see them around and I guess I feel sort of bad. We keep saying "dropping like flies", "dropping like flies" but the thing is, the flies do that because they don't have pockets. If flies had pockets, they wouldn't drop nearly as much and wouldn't be known as the quintessenital klutzes of the natural world.

Also, I actually had a great conceit for a song using the current vernacular -- a guy writing about how he expected that when the girl he likes broke up with her current boyfriend (maybe because the singer, as a friend, recommended it) she would naturally end up with him. But instead she finds someone else. He sings "but I shot that spot".

I have learned about that phrase as the the "I called dibs" of the new generation.