“He’s not online. Like, at all.”
I now know someone who does not use the internet. Seriously. Does. Not. Use. It. Lives without Google, without Z.E.E. (Zuckerberg’s Evil Empire), without the inclination to Tweet that which might be profound. Or profoundly banal.
Imagine this.
It is strange, isn’t it?
My first reaction was not a reaction. I did not care as this was not the way we met, communicated, or spent time. He does text and gets a substantial amount of joy from the photo text option on his moderate I.Q. cell phone. But, he does not emoticon. In fact, one of the first conversations we had involved his dread of the emoticon. I do not emote via icon to him. When I told one of my favorite people (ironically a friend from the halcyon days of MySpace…) about this, he said, “Cool.” Of course, we are not interneting so much ourselves these days, so that could explain it. Seems real life has become tantamount to us both. [Thank goodness for cell phones and G-chat. Hahaha.]
It made me think of another one of my favorite people, also an internet friend, though a local one, who said one time, “I don’t care what people say about Facebook. I don’t care what I say about Facebook. The fact of the matter is, if someone is not on Facebook these days, I don’t trust them. Why aren’t they on there? What is their deal?” [I think Zuckerberg just got a boner down in his undersized Silicon Valley digs.] Sometimes when I feel like the only place I get information is the Facebook, I agree. Other times, when I wish the only place I got information was not the Facebook, I beg… literally, beg, to differ.
I tell my students [frequently, repetition being the heart of education and all...] that I got my first collegiate degree without the internet. They cannot grok this. I try to explain how fascinating we thought it was that we could look up books, (you know, the kind with the pages that you turn, not scroll) on a computer at UCSD and we could see what books were on the shelves at all the other UCs. If we really wanted a book we could get it. Two days later off a van that drove around the interlibrary loans. That was the shit! They tilt their heads at me and look at me like a very interesting specimen when I tell them these stories. It is like reverse SciFi or something.
The internet is a strange place. But I like it –> “Boy, you sure are a funny kid, Johnny, but I like you! So tell me, what kind of a boy are you, John?” I have always been (and still am) fascinated by people who cultivate relationships on the internet, keep them on the internet, and call them IRL. I am equally fascinated, like in the way you cannot stop looking at something so freakishly awkward, by the demise of these internet relationships. The fallout seems exponentially larger than a real life break up because these people involve their entire internet universes. It is very, very bizarre.
The other part about the internet that I like is its memory. Of course I would. I have a pretty dangerous memory myself. Recently, I was giggling about a confession that someone had posted about how she was showing her tits on Twitter for attention, not actually for breast cancer awareness. You.Don’t.Say. This same sad lady also publicly sold out her self-professed best friend for an internet bestie. And then there are the romances. That shit stays forever. And you know that is making people cringe. And in the seemingly endless range of the online universe, isn’t it strange how these relationships can overlap? Wow – now that is super awkward.
Anyhow. I was telling my non-line friend about some of this stuff last week. I was trying to explain why a friend of mine was so upset about a certain situation. And in telling the story, of the internet affair and its demise, I realized he was looking at me with his head tilted to the side wearing the exact same expression I see on my students when I talk about life before the internet. I tried harder to explain the situation, sure I was not being clear. But the more I explained it, the more ludicrous the entire thing started to sound.
Suddenly, I couldn’t make sense of a story, that admittedly was pretty far-fetched, but had always, in my mind, been somewhat of a linear narrative.
“But, they didn’t know each other?”
“Well, I mean, not at first. I mean, no. No, yes. Yes, they knew each other. But then they had to meet each other.”
“I don’t understand. Did they know each other, or didn’t they?”
“They met each other eventually. A few times. Or, well, at least once for sure.”
“So, they were like acquaintances.”
“I think they were in love.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Well. I don’t know…”
It did seem pretty silly standing there face to face with someone trying to explain this.
Now it was me who tilted my head to the side with an expression of curiosity to look at my non-line conversationalist. He looked pretty good. And it is no wonder… while the rest of the world is inside, connecting online, this boy is out riding his bike, surfing, running, sitting in the sunshine, and living. IRL.
“Cool.”
#Occupy #Education: Social media + Political action = Hands on learning
[photo of OakFoSho in action from Fly Trap Studio. Go look, it is worth it.]
People spend a lot of time questioning the value and influence and usefulness of social media these days. I know this because I am one of them. As a fairly avid user of social media technology of my own accord, and a teacher being constantly reminded of the need to bring technology into the classroom while simultaneously corralling all of my students mobile devices every minute of every day (in spite of the fact that I teach in a complete dead zone, they remain resolutely undeterred in their efforts to get some sort of signal – sigh) there is a lot of mental energy directed towards a consideration of our relationships with social media.
Having also had my fair share of mishaps with the interwebs – special shoutouts to Wavefunccollapse: resident Knoxville jackass, and the Coffee denier – I find myself increasingly skeptical at the very same time I see my internet presence expanding. When my parents ask why they should be on the FB, I have as many positive answers as negative. I recall looking across the desk at my former principal as he read through MY ENTIRE Twitter feed, which he had meticulously (though without any apparent logic) highlighted, and had to explain to him that he had identified a conversation between a friend (in Hong Kong) and myself, of which he was only reading one side [DUH]. No matter what, he just could not grok, no matter how plainly I explained it, that Amy wanted me to bring Twinkies to the 852 and we were joking about the effects of sugar. He remained steadfast in his opinion that I was talking shit about my job in the East Bay [don't ask, it really is impossible to explain] and as I remember this, I do rethink the benefits of internet absence.
But, I also think that internet absence is no longer a reality. And I think about what about what another [internet] friend said a while back that he simply did not trust a person who did not have a Facebook anymore. Not that he expected to be on a person’s FB just for knowing them but… you know, why would they not have a FB? Interestingly, this person is the ONLY person on my FB who I do not know personally. The Force is strong in that one.
So, for all of you out there who are considering this conundrum out of fun, futility or peer/professional pressure, here is a story for you:
Coffee: DENIED!!
Last week I went back to my hometown for a Halloween party. I even wore a costume and everything. I don’t go up there very often, and every time that I do go… I am glad. Thought I was going to say I regret it, huh? Nope. Anyhow, R and I got to the party fashionably late and in high style. Who knew that this evening would lead to my latest WTF moment…
One of the things that I enjoy about going to the hometown is that all of the pressure of socializing with an agenda is out the window. I have long abandoned the idea that this particular little slice of heaven would bring forth a guy I would want to date… or would want to date me for that matter – let’s not forget I did more than a decade of hard time there, so I have some context for this attitude. Plus, when I am there I am generally flanked by R so I have a nice comfortable landing spot, and exit strategy. This shindig was no exception to my previously established assumptions. Therefore, you can imagine my surprise to make contact with someone (new) who seemed pretty interesting, and who has an incredible back story as well. Suffice it to say I was intrigued enough that it made the next morning’s brunch conversation agenda.
Over the course of several hours of brunch Dr. T and R and I talked about the changing social dynamic we are facing these days re: meeting people, and of course the inherent distinction between his, and ours. Facts being what they are, it is a lot easier to be a dude of our – shall we say, station – or just be honest and say age? It reminded me of this sentiment from an article about all the Single Ladies:
I realized that I too have always just assumed that the whole “love” thing would just work itself out. It turns out that is a bit naive, and by the way, don’t read that article if you are still in that frame of mind: total spoiler. So, we contemplated, what was the best course of action to take in navigating these waters, (which seem like they should get smoother with maturity – not more fucking rocky)? We could all speak to different strategies coupled with equally diverse (and though often humorous, still disappointing) outcomes.
Should one “get out there” and try to make things happen even if it’s not what you were naturally inclined to do? Should you use places in your comfort zone as a “hunting ground”? Internet dating? The fact of it is, all of it made me want to barf in my cappuccino. I have always said that if I wasn’t going to meet someone doing what I normally do, and in the course of my normal life, then I wasn’t going to meet the right person. I still believe that, but the reality of that scenario is that I work pretty much around the clock during the school year, using my free time for yoga and the gym… and then I want to travel when I am not working. This is not conducive to being a successful dater (which we have long-established I have no idea how to do anyhow.) Not to mention, I don’t even know what i am looking for. This particular line of rhetoric was precipitated by my admission that I do not go out on Friday night. “I am just too tired,” I told Dr. T. “But it seems like you are always doing stuff… totally energetic,” she replied. “You can’t trust Facebook,” I reminded her.
And here it is, Friday night and I am home. Exhausted. Not at all unhappy, but completely aware that my staying in perpetuates the reality that I will continue to reduce the odds of meeting someone new and interesting or at least the bearer of interesting potential.
So, maybe it was not too crazy to consider someone I met in my hometown. Shit, I have certainly considered far more suspect possibilities in places far afield.
Information was acquired (from both sides of the equation, I might add) and contact was made. “Let’s get together for coffee or something…” “That would be great, we should have some free time coming up with the holidays…” “By the way, I thought you were gorgeous.”
Aaawwwwww.
And then the Facebook connection was established. I looked at his profile. I saw some things that made me go “Hmmmmmm….” [You went to Pahrump? On purpose? FOR.FIREARMS TRAINING????] But, in my typical optimistic fashion (don’t laugh I am an optimist, but of course only in the most ridiculous circumstances) I overlooked these few things. After all, had I not just spent hours talking with my best friends about how (c’est la vie said the old folks, it goes to show… ) you never can tell? Plus, you can’t trust Facebook.
Plans were made. Life went on. Two days later I got this message:
Listen, why don’t we hold off getting together for that drink. After checking out your fb stuff I realized that you and I are polar opposite on our politics. Friendship sounds a hell of a lot better at this point.
Of course, being the headcase that I can sometimes be, my first reaction was to go back and look at my Facebook page. Umm… What? I couldn’t even figure out how it was “political.” Save for the poster from my union that one of my amazing coworkers made for us to carry at the General Strike standing behind Occupy Oakland… oh, hm. Perhaps that is political. But, as a historian, I would certainly NOT miss an event like that! And as a teacher (he is one too) who in the world could be anti-union? I looked further. I had a Howard Zinn quote. Okay, maybe I am a little political. I considered all of this in a new light. But cancelling a coffee date? I shook my head. Does the guy know anything about me? Well, he is related to people I have known since I was six. He knows where I grew up, not a traditionally conservative bastion – though these days, sheesh. Everything else he gleaned from… from… Facebook?
I looked at all the stuff on my Facebook. Things I have selected to share with a very wide variety of people and re-reconsidered. It may be political. It may ideological. Hell, it may be psychological. But mostly, in my opinion, it is there to be intellectual – and I don’t mean all smarty pants, but I mean to engender thought, or perspective. Yeah, even argument. Some of the people I respect most in my life are the ones who really come at me from a different angle and are not afraid. [That would be you, Mr. Fox Island.] But in the end I went back to the same old place:
“Seriously. Am I not cute enough to override the red flags??? Do you know how many guys I have gone out with in spite of the plethora of screaming scarlet banners??????”
Ooohhhh…
Wait a minute…
…perhaps Mr. Freinship-sounds-a-hell-of-a-lot-better-at-this-point is on to something here…
Happy New Year!
It seems impossible to believe that 2010 has come to an end. I remember Gust Proutsos, back in my first year at Procter Hug High School in Reno, told me that I was going to be absolutely blown away at how fast the years would speed by. I was unsure if this was a comment on age, perception, or working in a profession that is so totally locked into a temporal relativity. Regardless, Mr. Proutsos knew what was up. I cannot believe that I started this year in Bali, still a Hong Kong resident, then meandered through Burma and India, then found myself Stateside again in the exact circumstances I had abstractly described as a goal in September of 2009.
It is nothing short of fascinating.
Everywhere I look I am hearing people talk about how they cannot wait for this year to end. They are so over 2010. 2010 was so bad/hard/unfair/miserable… I guess, again, I am an anomaly. Sitting at the Latin American Club last week enjoying a cold beer on a rainy night with a very cute and inappropriate compadre, I was considering things, my life and the like. He looked at me and said, “You are such a positive person. I mean, you love your job, your house, your family. You really love your life.” He kind of chuckled and I smiled.
Yes. Yes, I do.
Catwoman: She is me and I am she?
I did not see the latest Catwoman movie with Halle Berry. With no offense to what I’m sure was one hot kitty, I was not interested. I did like Michelle Pfeiffer’s version. But if I am going to take Selina off the page, I think I would stick with Julie Newmar. I have been thinking about the Cat lately because… well, I am sort of juvenile, mildly puerile, and cartoons have been popping up everywhere.
And apparently, someone decided that to replace your Facebook photo with a cartoon was a good way to raise awareness about child abuse. This makes no sense to me, and I share this person’s opinion, who said:
I take issues of child advocacy very seriously for a number of reasons, not the least of which is my profession or the fact that it turns out that we consistently overestimate the coping abilities of young people while simultaneously underestimating their sensitivity. I think that kids are completely cool simply for the fact that they are kids. And when they are not allowed to be kids because of shitty circumstances, or shitty parents, or god knows what else, it get pissed off. To this end, I am an advocate for young people on a daily basis. I am involved in youth activities. I coach (admittedly somewhat reluctantly these days, but hey, that is only because I know the real deal there.) I do not take myself so seriously. I do take them seriously. I listen to them.
I do not think that changing my Facebook picture to the alter-ego of Selina Kyle is going to do much about child abuse. But if nothing else, perhaps a dialog of the misdirected campaign may be helpful. And then I can talk about Catwoman without seeming totally ridiculous. Or maybe I am still ridiculous. Regardless, in the effort to select the image of the cartoon character that I identified with, no matter how much Wonder Womaning I did, I had to go with Ms. Kyle over Diana Prince.
[This may or may not be because of her thing with that Bat.]
I know Wonder Woman is the shit and I have a feeling she is far less likely to need therapy than Catwoman… and she has that bangin’ invisible jet; but I think I may actually *be* Catwoman.
Let’s review.
The feline is characterized thusly: carnivorous, solitary, secretive, nocturnal, inaccessible, agile, international. They typically tend to have lithe and flexible bodies with muscular limbs. Brown to golden fur is common in most species. Retractable claws are generally present. They have relatively large eyes. Felines possess a highly developed sense of smell. Most are able to land on their feet after a fall. All are able to spit, hiss, growl, snarl, and mew. Most also seem to be able to purr.
How *interesting*.
Selina Kyle is a sometimes-adversary of Batman, known for having a complex love-hate (oftentimes romantic) relationship with him. No longer a “super-villain,” Selina (Ms. Kyle, if you’re nasty) is now classified as an anti-hero. In other words, she is badass, and people feel a need to pigeonhole.
Originally, it was suggested that Selina was actually married to Bruce Wayne (*swoon*) and the mother of their only child in a parallel comic universe. [Yeah, a parallel comic universe. I just said that.] Later versions have her escaping her life of prostitution and an abusive pimp. Somehow, people thought that was more empowering. Whatevs. I am not going to turn my head from any story where my girl gets with Mr. Wayne. Seriously.
Either way, Selina gets the idea that, if there is a “bat”, why can there not be a “cat”? That is what I am talking about. Classified as “the most dysfunctional relationship” in the comic world, Selina and Bruce – the Cat and the Bat – exemplify my relationship choices for sure. Save for #4, they have all been wild, crazy, passionate, ridiculous, interesting, challenging, unlikely… unhealthy. But look how well we have worn it!
Sigh.
Anyhow, when it comes to choosing one’s alter-ego, if you can in fact choose, it seems like you should consider all sorts of things, and admit the flaws – fatal or otherwise. In that light, Catwoman seems like my match. From the origins of Bastet forward, it seems like it fits.
Now serving a conlfict of interest: Would you like a glass of #wine with that?
How romantic....
A boy meets a girl on the interwebs. This is not a dating site and so the conversation is not bent towards engendering any sort of intentional relationship, but the boy and the girl enjoy witty banter and savvy political commentary and so they continue to “talk.” Of course they have no idea what their individual voices sound like because they don’t really talk. They Tweet. Or Chat. Or Whatever. The contact becomes regular enough that they each believe they know the other. They are Friends. I wonder what each one imagines the other’s voice sounds like. Do they contemplate the way the other would use their hands to punctuate a particularly salient point, or what they smell like? Out there suspended on the interwebs all of that IRL detail is completely malleable, manifested entirely on the screen of the beholder.
One day the boy is no longer there. In truth the girl doesn’t notice right away because she has been drawn away from this particular interface of the [tangled] Web We Weave. In real life would you notice if one of your daily conversants was suddenly absent? Gone? Dissipated without a trace? I am not sure anymore, but I think, in spite of our increasingly complex cocoons of self-involvement, perhaps.
The girl sends out an electronic search party for her Friend. Email. Tweets. Wall posts. The search party is effective and within an hour the missing person has been found. Where were you? What happened? It was bad. I freaked out. I had to… to… delete my account. Oh. Wow. Why? It got too intense. Oh.
The boy had met another girl. In similar fashion he had begun to connect with his new Friend. Or was it a Follower? It is so hard to tell sometimes. Maybe he was the one who Followed.
Followed where?
Into the rabbit hole. [Lewis Carroll, you had no idea.] One interface makes you bigger. One makes you smaller. That is still true. They were bigger. So big in each other’s eyes. After one month they were in Love. Love is good. I understand how certain conditions lend themselves to the formation of incredibly intense relationships; I have always found that the bonds that are formed among travelers are like this. Intense. Quick. Flashpoints. The union of shared experience.
Shared experience?
As the boy tells his Friend of his Love she is curious but unafraid. This boy has a need she could never fill and she cares for him as a Friend. A Follower. She listens to his lament. It is a tawdry tale to be sure. Full of duplicitous, passive aggressive behavior so easily perpetrated from behind the one-way mirror of the computer screen. He looks for meaning in everything. Everything is a code to be broken. Nothing is as it seems. This is confusing. I am as I seem. Yes, but you are different. Aren’t you as you seem? Yes, but I am different. Why are we different? I don’t know.
It is as if the progress of the relationship has been on hyper-speed. How can you get to the icky parts without the honeymoon parts?
What do you like about her? What does she like about you? Do you know what each other smell like? How you sort your mail? Which way you like the toilet paper on the roll? You have not met.
But you are in love.
Yes.
Oh.
Well, she says to the boy, do we get to be friends again? I have missed you. Yes, yes of course.
Then the whole strange cycle starts again. They are friends. They communicate. There is some expectation of coded meaning, that nothing is as it seems. That people are not being honest. What can we deduce? What can we find out? What do you want to know? Will you feel better to know things you do not want to know? Yes. Yes. Yes. Of course, YES.
Now the boy’s Love is not okay. She cannot allow him to be friends with any other girls out there among the fiber-optic milieu. Why? She says it is because all the other girls are whores who are using him to suit their own agendas. That he is naïve and cannot see that they all want something from him. That they are taking advantage of him.
What she means to say is this:
You cannot be friends with any other girls because if you fell in love with me by communicating this way you can just as easily fall in love with them the same way. It was so easy. So immediate. And it is real. So real. And so all others are a threat because who’s to say that the same thing won’t happen again and be just as real. I must hold on. Or else I will lose. You.
That is what she means to say. But she cannot say that.
The boy, too, has issues. After all this is serious business; he updated his Facebook status to reflect that he was “In A Relationship.” Because he is so desperate for the words his Love Tweets and Chats and Posts to be real, he is compelled to place equal weight on all her typed sentiments – whether they are backed by gravitas or levity. It is a conundrum.
And so they “fight” through Tweets and Chats and Posts. As if relationship communication were not already complicated enough.
The boy is conflicted. The Love is mad. The girl is watching. The boy is now no longer allowed to be friends with the girl by mandate of the Love. The girl finds this frustrating, though not world ending. She wonders why they cannot be friends and continue their witty repartee. But the Love said no and the boy had to prove his love to his Love. The girl goes on, she has friends in town from overseas, friends to meet for dinner and an internet friend to meet in the flesh. She is sad about the boy. Or maybe for the boy. But in the end she just logs off.
I mean really, they never even met.
[image from here.]
Alter-egos?
You’re kind of a train wreck,
but god you’re fun to hang out with.
I got “invited” to take a personality quiz on the Insidious Social Network today: What 90s Alt-Rock Goddess are you? It was sort of funny because I had just been speaking with a friend about 90s music and it’s inability to sort of define itself as anything remotely… interesting. That is not totally fair, but as with many things, mostly true. Alt-rock? Alt-rock Goddess? I turn to the Urban Dictionary. Well, that sounds about like the rest of the 1990s: developed in the 1980s, then popular in the 90s. I will continue to try to work out how alternative and popular can describe the same thing simultaneously.
Anyhow, I took the quiz. And I got: Kim Deal. Of course, the Pixies being totally cool, I decided that the quiz was legit. [The Breeders are pretty okay too (I particularly like their cover of Happiness is a Warm Gun.)] Plus it reminded me of meeting “Mr. Right” at San Diego’s Street Scene in 2005 when it was actually in the Qualcom Stadium parking lot: lame venue, great fun, a total shitshow at the W downtown. And really, if you meet a guy wearing a t-shirt that says “Mr. Right” while you are listening to the Pixies and you can almost feel the tension – between Kim and Frank Black as well as with Mr. Right, you know it is gonna be a worthy evening. True story.
I am not sure I am all that Kim Deal-ish, and I am sure that Mr. Right was only temporarily correct, but Gigantic? Hell yeah. And for now, taking these quizzes beats a lot of other stuff I should be doing. Hey Paul Hey Paul Hey Paul… let’s have a ball.
You’re kind of a train wreck, but God you’re fun to hang out with. Your wit is dry and sarcastic. You’re an oily-haired slob but no one cares because you’re so fucking brilliant we all want to know you. Too bad that brilliance isn’t ever going to come to anything. It’s going to be drowned in Pabst Blue Ribbon and Jack Daniels. In a way, you’re an idiot savant. When you share your mind with us, we’re blown away; but we’re also sick of watching you do the same stupid fucking bullshit time and time again. When are you gonna learn? You’re a Bukowski kind of girl – pornographic, self-destructive, exuberant. We all love you and we wish you’d get your shit together, but we’ve come to accept that you’ll always be a slightly unrealized potential.
Wait… if it’s not on MyTwitFlickFaceSpaceBook… did it really happen?
il n’y a pas de hors-texte -OR- post-photo ergo sum
<<you be the judge>>
As has been amply, documented I ceased and desisted my online “profiles” a couple of months ago. This meant saying goodbye to Facebook and MySpace (though I held fast with Twitter and WordPress.) The process was far easier said than done. I wanted to use the Websuicide application, but there were too many requests for assisted suicide and so I would have had to wait for ages, and you all know that in the information age, only a loser will wait for anything. So, I went about deleting myself the old-fashioned way. Eliminating every bit of my profile and then canceling my account. Or at least, attempting to. Both Facebook and Mysapce made this excruciatingly difficult. It was ridiculous. And then, as if I had not suffered enough with innumerable emails confirming that YES, I did want to delete my accounts, and YES, I was quite sure about this decision, and YES, I was aware that I could simply “deactivate” my account, and in spite of all of that YES, I WOULD LIKE TO DELETE THE ACCOUNT… I started to see the side effects of deletion.
It was far more like suicide than I had imagined. Ok, I have no first hand knowledge of suicide, but, suddenly, inviting people to a party, a dinner, whatever, became difficult. Getting invited became awkward, when after not acknowledging (or worse unwittingly not attending) events, people would say, “Where were you?” And I would have to admit that I had no idea what they were talking about and they would say, “Didn’t you look on Facebook? The invite was right there.”
Shit.
As if I hadn’t clearly started to see the virtual writing on the LCD, when asking a friend about her recent trip to Brazil for Carnivale, she said, “The pictures are on Facebook… Oh, I guess you can come to my place and look – at my Facebook.”
Shitshit.
Another friend summed it all up when he said, “You went to Burma? Really? I didn’t see it on Facebook.” Maybe he was really on to what Descartes meant when he said: Dubito ergo cogito ergo sum = I DOUBT –> Therefore I THINK –> Therefore I AM. Had his doubt made his reality more real than my undocumented life?
Shitshitshitshit.
Well, I DID go to Burma and was awesome. And I took some amazing photos. But, due to the journey’s conspicuous absence on Facebook, it gives me pause… did it really happen… or… is it… all… just some figment of my… overactive imagination???
The revolution in “social media” has had a lot of side effects. (Collateral damage? You be the judge.) First of all, it may not be so revolutionary. Though to be fair, I am also not so sure that social media is all hat concerned with its own status. Still:
I remember the age at which photo-documentation of all social activity became mandatory for post weekend validation. I was 15. This led to the creation of countless photo albums, scrapbooks and in my case, an entire cork-board wall covered with the detritus of my adolescence. Truly, the stuff of teenage legend. But no matter your take on that issue the fact remains, our attitudes about the need for documenting everything we do (I mean, yeah, look at me – - Tweeting away and blogging on randomness of which there is no real proof of relevance.) Cameras are everywhere, all the time. Such a precedent has been set that, in fact, if there is no photo album, while we might not be able to say categorically that something did not happen, there is a definite sense of skepticism as to the significance of anything not public-photo-album-worthy. Must. Validate. All. Experiences. Publicly. To. Have. Meaning…
According to Stuart Jeffries’ article in the Guardian regarding this phenomenon, “Leeds-based sociologist Zygmunt Bauman wrote in his book Liquid Love that in a modern world in which those purportedly fixed and durable ties of family, class, religion, marriage have melted away, we look for something else to hold us together. Hence, no doubt, the rise of social networking sites.” [Brought this recent TFLN to mind.] Yeah, okay, that is all well and good, but my initial conundrum still remains (yes, I had a point…): Does an experience have to be shared to make it real/valid/actual? That sounds positively philosophical. I have a friend who says he does not like to do things on his own because it is more meaningful to share experiences. He was unable to go into much detail at all about precisely how meaning is changed in tandem, but when I mentioned that I always travel alone, I was sort of sonned when he said, “Yeah, and what is the first thing you do when you get back?” Errrmm.. Yeah. I blog. [Therefore I am?] I remember calling a “friend” in the States when I first arrived in Hong Kong and telling him how many times a day I thought of him when I saw random shit and how cool it would be if he could see it. But really, that had very little to do with sharing random shit experiences and all to do with wishing he was here with me rather than there with someone else. Not to mention that the shared experience in reality translates way differently in the virtual world. First of all you have corroborating evidence – not always a bonus. Second, for the same reason your creative license is naturally hindered. Third, reality is so… mundane.
I am not sure what any of this really means beyond the fact that I am consistently conflicted about the nature of on-lineness. There is actually a term, facebragging, to describe the habit of posting all sorts of status updates and photos to let everyone know how fabulous your life is and consequently how badly theirs may suck.
Oh, wait a minute, I think I do that.
Is that why I do it? Well, that is the question. Why do blog stats matter? Why do photo comments make them more worthy? Why do friend counts have any significance? Why do Twitter-idiots insist that if they follow you, you must follow them? Why do I have a fake Facebook profile just to have a “Fan Page” for my blog (even typing that made me throw up in my mouth a little.) Why isn’t creating for the sake of creating enough? Why does every business/band/service/charity/school/corporation/association/politician/quasi-politician have a Facebook and/or Twitter link prominently placed on their website?
It could be, according to statistics gathered from Econsultancy.com, because:
- Facebook claims that 50% of active users log into the site each day. This would mean at least 175m users every 24 hours… A considerable increase from the previous 120m.
- Twitter now has 75m user accounts, but only around 15m are active users on a regular basis. It’s still a fair increase from the estimated 6-10m global users from a few months ago.
- Flickr now hosts more than 4bn images. A massive jump from the previous 3.6bn I wrote about.
- Photo uploads to Facebook have increased by more than 100%. Currently, there are around 2.5bn uploads to the site each month – this was around a billion last time I covered this.
- There are more than 70 translations available on Facebook. Last time around, this was only 50.
- There are more than 3.5bn pieces of content (web links, news stories, blog posts, etc.) shared each week on Facebook.
- Towards the end of last year, the average number of tweets per day was over27.3 million.
- The average number of tweets per hour was around 1.3m.
- More than 700,000 local businesses have active Pages on Facebook.
- Purpose-built Facebook pages have created more than 5.3bn fans.
- 15% of bloggers spend 10 or more hours each week blogging, according to Technorati’s new State of the Blogosphere.
- At the current rate, Twitter will process almost 10bn tweets in a single year.
- More than 80,000 websites have implemented Facebook Connect since December 2008 and more than 60m Facebook users engage with it across these external sites each month.
Holy crap. I better get those photos posted before I fade away into the liquid abyss irrelevancy.
Am I more connected because of the internet? Maybe, but I have to agree with one of my favorite bloggers Tremendous News, that the connections are pseudo and for that reason, though they may fill a nice void in some ways… the limits are clear.
I am not sure I need the whole world to be able to see my vacation photos.
But then again, maybe I do….
Online Suicide. [Don't get emo - it is not what you might be thinking.]
I made a decision last week to delete both my MySpace and my Facebook accounts. I had been thinking about it for a while for myriad reasons, but every time I considered it, I came up with a reason not to do it: But, I have all those photos on there… But, how will I know about all those ‘events’… But, what if that ONE person I MUST meet is on there… But, what if I miss something really, really, really cool…
Yeah, right.
I spent a lot of time as an adolescent worrying about missing shit. Like, if you were not somewhere, something amazing might happen. This caused me tremendous stress the one time I was put on “restriction” by my mother for antics that had gone just a few steps too far. My mom decided that I would be on “restriction” and this meant that I had to be home by 9 pm on weekdays (you know, all those nights spent at the Petaluma Public Library – working so hard…) and I could only go out one night on the weekend with a midnight curfew. I thought my life was over. Only one night? What if I picked the wrong one? Oh.My.God. Total devastation. Looking back on this now I have to laugh for a couple of reasons: 1) I lived in freaking Petaluma after all, if it happened on a Friday it was gonna happen again on a Saturday and truth be told, shit rarely ever happened… and 2) The fact that what I just described was restriction is sort of hilarious – my unborn children better hope they never cross the line because I will lock them down – and for the record, after like five months of said “restriction” I asked my mom when – oh when! – would it be over and she went for the total killer blow saying, with complete coolness and appropriate aplomb, “Oh, yeah, I suppose it can be over now.” Talk about fished in. Mom, FTW.
Anyhow, to have this happening in my adult life was becoming too much of a recurring and horrifying déjà vu.
There were some other issues. I am really irritated at how both sites are operating and using our information/photos/etc – regardless of the fact that there are “Terms of Use” and the framework itself may necessitate said operations. The more I read about how they work, the more I don’t like it. Then I checked out the Web 2.0 Suicide Machine and it really made me think. [It is with no small bit of irony that the reason I heard about the Suicide Machine was through a blog I am linked to on Facebook.] But the developers of the concept have a point. Get back into the real world.
Then consider the fact that I have more than 300 “friends” on Facebook, and 150 or so on Myspace. [This after much culling, which has led to all sorts of drama. I have actually received emails asking why people had been deleted. From the people in question as well as other friends. Seriously. And then, someone I know was speaking to another person about me, and person #2 said, "Well, can Amanda be trusted? She deleted me from Facebook." I know you think I must be making this shit up - but I assure you, I am not. ] Who the FUCK has 500 friends? I mean, SERIOUSLY. I have already expounded on Dunbar’s number here, so I will not bore you with that, but SERIOUSLY. And the politics of social network friends. Holy Mother of God. I know there are tons of articles about it already, but it is like people lose their sense of reality when they enter the virtual world of social networking. Perhaps that is the point for some people, but where have the boundaries gone? In real life, you have to have a reason to be someone’s friend, don’t you? Just because you know Person A does not mean you are therefore friends with all of Person A’s friends… or does it? Though, to be sure I have fallen on both sides of this equation as well, as I mentioned here.
Living on-line… Is it in you?
I signed up on MySpace sometime in late 2004. I was at my BFFs house in Leucadia recovering from a mad birthday party for her husband. I am not sure how she got into it… but there we were giggling like idiots and cruising all over this “social network.” I had been in a relatively isolated situation for sometime, mostly of my own doing I suppose, but the idea of all these people out there, just available to talk to, make fun of, be aghast at, was amazing. I certainly was not meeting people like this in Northern Nevada. Or was I?
I was careful about what I said about myself in my “profile.” It seemed like somehow it was really important. I remember asking a friend if he thought my profile really reflected me. His answer? “Of course, but that doesn’t mean anything.” I did not understand. I think I am getting a better idea now. I selectively added people and of course got all excited when I saw that there were things waiting for me, like friend requests and comments. If you play around on these sites you may understand. I appreciated immediately the ability to share photos, that I was learning html, and that I could find groups and discussions about specific topics like travel and beer and whatever. I was amazed at all the funny stuff out there and it really expanded my view of the internet as I had not really used it for entertainment up to this point (bear in mind I completed an undergraduate degree without internet availability – and had only realy just gotten into it during my graduate project as a real tool, so I am either old or amazing or both.) It did encourage me to see what was ‘out there’ and for that I am way glad. Still early on – there was something mildly unsettling about the whole thing.
Dunbar had a number.
According to Robin Dunbar, an Oxford anthropologist, there is a limited number of people we as humans, are able to maintain stable relationships with… and that number is somewhere around 150. Say hello to Dunbar’s Number. More specifically, the idea is that within this limit, which is actually 148, we are able to know everyone and understand interpersonal dynamics and such. Beyond this, much more structure, more rules and enforced norms must exist to maintain functionality. This seems to be consistent among most animals or at least primates, according to primatologists. There just seems to be only so many people we can manage to engage with in any meaningful way.
WTF? 150 people we have meaningful relationships with? Let’s take a moment and count. Okay, what did you come up with? Yeah, I got stuck on what meaningful meant too.
Honestly, the notion of limits for successful social function cannot really be much of surprise for anyone. Everyone has experienced the stress that comes with trying to facilitate large groups of people seamlessly. If you have not, you are weird and lucky and should read about some groups like the Oneida’s, the Brook Farm or New Harmony. All three of these efforts at utopian society emerged from the Second Great Awakening in the North Eastern US. All three had a specific take on utopia. And all three failed within relatively short time periods, not long after exceeding the Dunbar limit. Coincidence? [Do we even want to mention the Reverend Jim Jones and the PTAP (People's Temple Agricultural Project)?]
Friend Request Fail.
While shamelessly lurking on The Insidious Social Network (FB) recently I saw the name of a friend from long ago. This person had just “friended” (yes, friend has been verbed…) another old friend of mine with whom I was feeling all proud of myself for reinstating communication.
“Ah ha! Awesome!” I thought as I cavalierly clicked the “Add Friend” button by his name.
Two days later, no notification that I had “been accepted” by this old friend. Feeling slightly humbled, I sent an email to said friend, (can I still say friend? Has it been downgraded to acquaintance?) It was a fairly innocuous email, but said hello and indicated that I was in touch with the mutual friend on whose page I had seen acquaintance’s name.
Two more days. Nothing. And through the grace of modern technology on TISN, I can see that the friend request is still active. Hmm. Not denied. Yet not accepted. What could this mean?
Two more days. Perhaps I the friend-quaintance has not been online. No, he has added other friends.
Two more days. Nothing.
Another day. Maybe we weren’t really friends? Is this all a complex illusion in my sometimes cloudy mind? No, I am sure we were friends, weren’t we?
Another day. Oaky, maybe there is a reason that he doesn’t want to be my friend… what did I do? Did not do?
One week later. Denied.
Through a simple click of the mouse, every adolescent insecurity about friends and popularity was reactivated. Irrational responses reigned supreme: Why wouldn’t this person be my friend? We were friends… what is the deal? What is his problem? What is my problem?
In the midst of this ridiculousness, I forgot that I had been thinking quite a bit about this whole “friending” thing myself. In fact, when I looked at it like that, why would someone who you haven’t talked to in more than ten years automatically want you back in their orbit? Just because you were friends, does that make you still friends? Should you have to add every person that went to the same school you did? Every person who the TISN thinks you “may know”? How wide a net does one really want to cast?
I used to think that I had a rule: I would only “friend” (and why isn’t this befriend anyhow?) people I knew personally. But even that got confusing. Because really, there are a lot of people I know in certain ways that I am not necessarily interested in knowing in other ways, if you get my meaning. So, where to draw the line? Like is there a two-drink minimum or something? How many years of real time are required to justify a cyber-friendship? Plus, there is the thought that perhaps you really will enjoy reconnecting with someone you only sort of knew at one point back then now. And, truth be told I have a few friends, yes really people I consider friends who I have “met” through shared interests online… so what of those? Are there special rules for exes? Family? Professional colleagues? God, it was all becoming such a mess. I had started to cull my “friend” list at one point and stopped because it was like, “Well, if I delete that person I have to get rid of that one… and if I keep this one then I have to keep that one…” And on and on. Ridiculous.
What is the etiquette here? The netiquette as it were. And should we feel offended if we get DENIED?
I suppose if you have a reason you want to be in contact with someone you should request their friendship. It sounds positively Shakespearean in that context, but you know, like extend your hand to their chaperone, that being TISN of course. Conversely, if you have a reason you don’t want to be in caontact with someone you should not ‘accept’ their request. I will admit that not having a reason to refuse doesn’t really seem like a good reason to accept… but now I am just starting to confuse myself. And if this is confusing, how the heck am I supposed to maintain a social “network” of more than 300 people? I mean seriously, is that even possible?
On more than one occasion I have sent email to friends asking: “Who the hell is XXX?” And have recently been getting lots of those emails as well. I suppose that there are people who could have a good reason for having the greatest number of friends possible… like those kids who say things like “I will change my name to Satan if I can get a million friends!!” I mean really, who wouldn’t wanna be that guys BFF?
In my particular case, I realized that there must have been something going on that I was unaware of regarding the person I thought was my friend, and at this point it really had very little to do with me… perhaps while I was ready to look beyond any conscious or unconscious transgression from years past, he was not. I mean, why I felt bad about not being in touch with that person last week when I hadn’t really even thought of contacting them in years seems a little, well, stupid really.
So I tried something sort of new… I decided to let it go.
(After asking the mutual friend what the fucking deal was, of course.)
04 November 2008.
The day started early.
A text from a British friend at 6 am.
A call from a French friend at 7 am.
Animated discussion with a Scottish friend, and British friend and a Canadian friend on the ferry.
Everyone hopeful… everyone interested… Baited breath seems the best description.
27 July 2004 the Democratic candidate for the Senate from Illinois gave the keynote address at the DNC. Virtually unkown outside of Illinois or highly political arenas, this man gave a speech he called:
“THE AUDACITY OF HOPE”
And apparently people listened….
Fast forward to today, or yesterday as it is officially the 5th of November just about everywhere now, and BARACK OBAMA is the president-elect of the United States of America.
I am so unbelievably proud to be American today.
And in Hong Kong the sentiments are clear… from all the corners of the globe:
YES WE CAN. YES WE DID.
Here is a sampling of sentiments via Facebook:
Tim LaTour is proud to be an American! [USA IN HK]
Simon Miles joins the rest of the world in welcoming a new beginning. [UK]
Tiffany Jay Yes We Can… YES WE DID! [HK/CBC]
Stacy Jacobs I’m so flipping happy!!! Here it comes!!!!! [USA]
Colette Marie Semien cannot stop singing the Black National Anthem “Lift every voice and sing.”. [USA IN HK]
Clara Fung Gin is yeahhh OBA-MAAAA. [HK]
Edward Nilges is thinkin’ of his father, and thinkin’ of the Law, and thinking’ of Rosemary but most of all he’s thinkin’ about the Jack of Hearts, President Elect Obama. [USA IN HK]
Amy Ziemniak is Yes we can!! Woo HOO!! [USA IN GER]
Georg Hoefer is congratulating the Americans! Well done. [GERMANY]
Kate Abbott 
. [USA - 1ST election!!]
Trevor White is proud to be an american! [NV]
Rachel Scott says whoopee! [UK IN UAE]
Vivien Jones is exultant. good news at last! [UK IN HK]
Mark Clemenson is so glad that such an important nation is in so much safer and more just hands. Party tonight! [UK IN HK]
Sherri Stewart is elated. [CA]
Robin O’Connor is very relieved and very excited to see some change! [CA]
Breanna Eddy is proud to be an American! We are not a collection of red states and blue states…we are the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!!!!! [USA]
Jason Leimer is Happy Obama won , but hopes that Stevens loses his seat in the senate. [NV]
Elizabeth Allison feels the energy in the air. [CA]
Kelly Morgan is overjoyed about the US election result. [AUS IN HK]
Rost Olsen is certainly proud to be an American, and proud that his fellow Americans have been able to rise above the Rovian bulls*** we’ve seen the last 8 years. [NV]
Ryan Jay has never been more proud to be an American! [CA]
Deanna Madsen Shaat was moved by Obama’s speech tonight. Incredible man. [CA]
Josh Sellers can finally return to his homeland after years of exile, and farm the family goat pasture. [USA IN HK]
Lauren Hall Is proud to be an Obama girl!!! This is a GREAT night. [CO]
Colette Marie Semien is pleased that change finally come. Thank you america for putting my faith back in Freedom, Justice, and the Pursuit of Happiness. [USA IN HK]
Aaron V. Williams is two fists raised in the air. F’ Yeah! [MD]
Lindsay Corwin now moving back to the states is an option!! Woo Hoo! [USA IN UK]
Weston Scott Fisher says Yes We Did!!! [PA]
James Tsao is finally exhaling. It’ll be a long tough road but at least it’s finally a step in the right direction for the US. [HK]
Stacy Jacobs Omg omg this is amazing… Everone dancing. [IL]
Connie Moretti is excited for change!!!! I can breathe again…. [CA]
Jason Powell believes Americans have opened their eyes, hearts, and minds. Now what will our new leaders do? [CA]
Tim LaTour says, “support your president no matter if your Dem. or Rep. Good job Obama! May God bless you in your new role.”. [USA IN HK]
Kim Baucom Sullivan is ecstatic about the election results. [CA]
Brandi Boston is very happy with the outcome of the election . [NV]
Aaron V. Williams YES WE CAN!!! [MD]
Breanna Eddy is proud to be an American!! [CA]
Antonio White is happy for our new president! [CA]
Susan Serrano is thankful to be alive at this moment. Congratulations, President Obama! [HI]
Tracy Thomas is taking in this historical moment. Congrats Obama….looking forward to you Baracking our world. [CA]
Trevor White is OVERJOYED!!!! WOOHOOOOO!!!!!! HATERS GO HOME! [NV]
Weston Scott Fisher says YES WE F’ING CAN!!!! [PA]
Kara L. Geiger couldn’t be happier! [ND]
Cami Murray IS SO EXCITED!! [WA]
Joel Oberly Barack Obama is MY president, Barack Obama is OUR president, Barack Obama is THE MAN! [WA]
Shawn Volesky está celebrando la gran VICTORIA PARA AMÉRICA!!! USA IN SPAIN]
Erica Powell is proud of our country! [CA]
David Millán Pérez “oooooooohhhhh yeahhh!!! obama!!”. [SPAIN]
Breanna Eddy is OBSESSED with election coverage!!! [CA]
Slobo Daniel is watching the news about PRESIDENT OBAMA. [CA]
And Via Text Messages-
“Yeaeha!!!!!” {Rae, UK in HK]
“Good one! And he walked it!” [Danny, UK in HK]
“Congrats! ” [Chris, Aus in HK]
“Hey there, congrats on your new president!” [Changmin, CHN in HK]
“Congrats!!!! Most historical moment!!! Black man as president!! Wo!! And he won by more than half!!” [Venus, HK]
And via email:
Obama’rde alors!
Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeha ! [Francois, FR in HK]
Congratulations. Obama is President! It’s great !! What wonderful news. Just listening to his speech now.
Lowana [UK in HK]
Old friends.
Today I became “friends” on Facebook with someone I knew long long ago… And I had to take a minute to think about this person and her family. And of course the irony that we are now “friends” because of this viral affliction of internet social networking, ie: Facebook.
I met Kim when I was suffering through the 8th grade at Petaluma Junior High School and she was a 9th grader at Petaluma High back to help on our 8th grade camping trip to Yosemite. I only got to know her because for some reason her younger brother had decided to be my friend, in spite of the fact that I had the social grace of, um… of a… well, something with no social grace.
And I can tell you Kim was not instantly attracted to my quirkiness. In fact, I can recall years later her telling me she could not figure out why Jason was my friend. Of course, by then we were at a place where that would not really hurt my feelings, I knew what she meant anyhow.
But I knew the answer to the question. Jason adored me, probably about as much as I adored him. And much of the initial ardor was simply because Jason could not believe how out of sync I was with all things “Junior High” at good old PJHS. I was a quasi-new kid having moved away five years earlier and then returned. I had been in really progressive schools in Seattle and San Diego… I had been traveling… and I was so not “in.” And Jason thought it was hilarious. He encouraged my misfitting but he did it in a way that I actually understood… he was showing me that he thought I was cool. Not that he would say that because you simply do not say stuff like that in the 8th grade. Plus Jason was a reluctant cool kid. For some reason no matter how much of a jerk he was or how little he played the game… there he was. [My cool factor would eventually improve as it turned out I was a really good athlete and that is always cool in provincial towns that honor... nee worship high school sports... And Jason would think this absolutely hilarious as well.]
But Jason and I had a whole lot more in common than that. We were both pretty smart and also both incredibly arrogant and I would toss ‘lazy-about-things-that-we-didn’t-care-about’ into that description as well. Is that an unflattering description, or is it pretty typical for a teenager? I don’t know, but I know Jason and I talked about that kind of stuff all the time.
We also shared some pretty horrible habits… we drank too much, we put people down for no good reason (well, sometimes for good reason…) and we did not always demonstrate a lot of integrity for things like attending school. But we were/are fiercely loyal friends and I think when push came to shove we always knew what was right and generally acted upon that.
In the end, I knew that Jason understood me better than anyone I had ever met, and I figure he felt the same about me… well, because he told me so. And I know if he could read this right now he would be all pissed off about it and say I was being such a ‘chick.’
But Jason cannot read this.
And he never will. But that is okay because even though I have lost my “second husband” (a designation his parents gave us… that we would be each others second marriage after we fucked up the first ones really good) and my best friend, I still think of him nearly everyday and would not trade one minute of the teasing, the torture, the satisfaction, the brilliance, or the experience that knowing Jason was.
So when I get to reconnect with his sister Kim on a random day while I sit in front of my computer in Hong Kong all these miles away from Petaluma, suddenly I am right back there sitting on the steps in the courtyard at PJHS watching him eat a fucking Hostess Berry Pie through a straw and all I can think of is how glad I am to have known him and his family for all these years.
Here is to you Jason.
I love you.
Jason Lyle Baucom
1970-1997
Text v. Call – you be the judge.
Tracy is a laughing at the 42-year old who keeps texting her for a date. Pick up the phone Lazy Ass!
So the Facebook Status update read, and I laughed out loud, [I did not LOL.] But it got me to thinking, what are the rules for communication in this increasingly intimate and, truth be told, often times invasive world? Is a text message an appropriate mechanism for something as personal as a date (as if I have a clue about dating – haha… I just choked on my salad right then) or is a call required? And where does email fit in?
As I do when I am faced with conundrums of this variety, I took it to the experts – my students. I asked them to tell me in their most persuasive way, what was the most appropriate method for communication.
And the verdict? After I explained that “It depends” would not be an acceptable answer, they actually had to choose the one that was most effective and appropriate the most of the time, I got some interesting feedback. In my non-scientific way and with rudimentary calculations I can say that 50% said the telephone (an actual call) was still the best. 33% went with email and 17% went with the now widely accepted (more outside the US, I think) sms or text message.
They had interesting reasons, noting that the phone call was the most immediate and direct line of communication. The email proponents suggested that it was a good way to self-edit when you might not be able to otherwise and that there was a record of the communication. (Good and bad, I suppose…) The texting fans liked the safety of it, silent, unobtrusive (read: SNEAKY, if you ask me) and instant communication with distance that the call did not afford.
I have to say, I barely knew how to send a text before I left the States and forget about predictive text. But everyone in Hong Kong was texting like mad all the time. All of my Euro friends and HK friends used it as the primary means of communication. At any given moment walking around Hong Kong I bet you can see at least a dozen people walking and texting (not too safe, btw.) Now I text as much as the next person and when I go home most of my friends find it odd. Like email there is some element of distance that lets you be a little more cheeky via the sms, but I wonder if that is good… or is it false advertising?
Wiki says:
Short message services are developing very rapidly throughout the world. In 2000, just 17 billion SMS messages were sent; in 2001, the number was up to 250 billion, and 500 billion SMS messages in 2004. At an average cost of USD 0.10 per message, this generates revenues in excess of $50 billion for mobile telephone operators and represents close to 100 text messages for every person in the world.
SMS is particularly popular in Europe, Asia (excluding Japan), Australia and New Zealand. Popularity has grown to a sufficient extent that the term texting (used as a verb meaning the act of mobile phone users sending short messages back and forth) has entered the common lexicon.
In China, SMS is very popular, and has brought service providers significant profit (18 billion short messages were sent in 2001). It is a very influential and powerful tool in the Philippines, where the average user sends 10-12 text messages a day. The Philippines alone sends on the average 400 million text messages a day or approximately 142 billion text messages sent a year, more than the annual average SMS volume of the countries in Europe, and even China and India. SMS is hugely popular in India, where youngsters often exchange lots of text messages, and companies provide alerts, infotainment, news, cricket scores update, railway/airline booking, mobile billing, and banking services on SMS.
Text messaging has become so popular that advertising agencies and advertisers are now jumping into the text message business. Services that provide bulk text message sending are also becoming a popular way for clubs, associations, and advertisers to quickly reach a group of opt-in subscribers. This advertising has proven to be extremely effective, but some insiders worry that advertisers may abuse the power of mobile marketing and it will someday be considered spam.
So I am not sure about how I feel about the whole thing, are you hiding behind some weird facade if you rely on the text? Is email impersonal, or is it actually more balanced and fair? I don’t know- but I think I might make a call and find out.
Amanda
