Okay, okay - I get It. I don't like it, but I get it. (LINK)
August 15th 2007 06:31
I get confused easily. And if you know me, none of what I’m about to say will come as a complete shock.
Many moons ago I joined myspace. It was under a different name, I had a different hair colour and was operating in a completely different headspace. I joined in the hope to meet people I wouldn’t normally get to meet – this was my opportunity to open myself up to likeminded people with likeminded goals. So, keen as mustard and sufficiently naïve, I spent a majority of one Sunday afternoon listing my likes, favourite books and heros. I painstakingly crafted a delicious introduction and made sure every box was completed. Done and dusted. All I had to do was sit by my inbox and wait for all my friends to eagerly await an ‘add’.
An hour later, I received my first email. It was from a rock star. A bona fide guitar strumming, leather pants wearing rock star. I checked out his site and noticed he had a lot of female ‘friends’ or as I like to call them, e-groupies. How cool. I added him immediately. I mean, who doesn’t want to be friends with a rock star?
So with one friend down, a minor celebrity mind you, my e-life filled with hope and anticipation. I don’t believe there’s been an emoticon invented for the raw excitement I was feeling.
A couple of hours later, I received my second email. It was from another rock star. This one didn’t have as many fans but he had a funky page so I added him anyway. Two rock stars in one day. Had the world gone topsey turvey or was my profile that good I was impressing lyrical genius?
As I sat there contemplating my own genius, there was another ‘ding dong’ on my inbox door. This time it was from a sock puppet. Not your everyday sock puppet but an angry one. A Dave Hughes version of inner footwear. Looking back, I think this was the turning point where my myspace profile just became a blur.
Over a period of a week I received no less than ninety friend requests. Highlights included requests from MATS (Men Against Teepees Society), girls with boobs just about a big as my screen, a lonely (and available) Jersey cow, a guy who asked if he could stay at my house for a couple of weeks and 101 more rock stars.
In no time, my inbox was forever dinging with ‘friend requests’, ‘comments’ and ‘bulletins’. ‘Myspace’ was no longer my space; it was turning into alphabet mess of random thoughts, advertising urls and a place for any random person to post any random piece of shite. Don’t get me wrong, all these people (and animals) are probably genuinely lovely, but at the time I didn’t really think they fell into the category of ‘my friend’. So a week later, I decided enough was enough. I removed my profile. Done and dusted.
Life was swell after that. I was feeling a lot calmer. My inbox was now only being filled with emails advertising Viagra, porn, stocks and lonely housewives. Yes, everything good about email had returned.
It was only two weeks ago I decided to dip back into the myspace pool. This time it was purely for a selfish reason. I found out that my favourite Sydney columnist, had joined up and I wanted to be his friend. And there’s nothing wrong with being friends with someone you actually like.
But this is where I get confused. Are myspace friends really friends? Are they the kind of friends that’ll come around to your house when your sick and make sure you’re still alive? Would my columnist friend be such a friend that he’ll help me move house or come to my 30th? I don’t think so. But I don’t want to pick on him; none of myspace is his fault.
I’m interested as to what other people think. Are your myspace friends your real ‘friends’? Can myspace friends become real friends? Are you as picky with online friends you are in real life? Is myspace just a cheap network for rock stars to get exposure? Do most people accept that by even having a profile you are subjected to at least twenty advertisements per log in? Does it really matter?
Believe me when I say that I’m genuinely not digging at anyone on myspace, friends or otherwise - mine is just a genuine and curious interest into the many and varied reasons for joining this site. I’ve divulged my reason, I’d like to hear yours. And if myspace has been everything you ever thought it would be and more.
And if you’re not up for answering any of my questions and think that for my own sake [and other people’s] I should just shut up, log off and get a life, you’re probably right. But this is MY space. You see, I’m finally getting the hang of it.
Many moons ago I joined myspace. It was under a different name, I had a different hair colour and was operating in a completely different headspace. I joined in the hope to meet people I wouldn’t normally get to meet – this was my opportunity to open myself up to likeminded people with likeminded goals. So, keen as mustard and sufficiently naïve, I spent a majority of one Sunday afternoon listing my likes, favourite books and heros. I painstakingly crafted a delicious introduction and made sure every box was completed. Done and dusted. All I had to do was sit by my inbox and wait for all my friends to eagerly await an ‘add’.
An hour later, I received my first email. It was from a rock star. A bona fide guitar strumming, leather pants wearing rock star. I checked out his site and noticed he had a lot of female ‘friends’ or as I like to call them, e-groupies. How cool. I added him immediately. I mean, who doesn’t want to be friends with a rock star?
So with one friend down, a minor celebrity mind you, my e-life filled with hope and anticipation. I don’t believe there’s been an emoticon invented for the raw excitement I was feeling.
A couple of hours later, I received my second email. It was from another rock star. This one didn’t have as many fans but he had a funky page so I added him anyway. Two rock stars in one day. Had the world gone topsey turvey or was my profile that good I was impressing lyrical genius?
As I sat there contemplating my own genius, there was another ‘ding dong’ on my inbox door. This time it was from a sock puppet. Not your everyday sock puppet but an angry one. A Dave Hughes version of inner footwear. Looking back, I think this was the turning point where my myspace profile just became a blur.
Over a period of a week I received no less than ninety friend requests. Highlights included requests from MATS (Men Against Teepees Society), girls with boobs just about a big as my screen, a lonely (and available) Jersey cow, a guy who asked if he could stay at my house for a couple of weeks and 101 more rock stars.
In no time, my inbox was forever dinging with ‘friend requests’, ‘comments’ and ‘bulletins’. ‘Myspace’ was no longer my space; it was turning into alphabet mess of random thoughts, advertising urls and a place for any random person to post any random piece of shite. Don’t get me wrong, all these people (and animals) are probably genuinely lovely, but at the time I didn’t really think they fell into the category of ‘my friend’. So a week later, I decided enough was enough. I removed my profile. Done and dusted.
Life was swell after that. I was feeling a lot calmer. My inbox was now only being filled with emails advertising Viagra, porn, stocks and lonely housewives. Yes, everything good about email had returned.
It was only two weeks ago I decided to dip back into the myspace pool. This time it was purely for a selfish reason. I found out that my favourite Sydney columnist, had joined up and I wanted to be his friend. And there’s nothing wrong with being friends with someone you actually like.
But this is where I get confused. Are myspace friends really friends? Are they the kind of friends that’ll come around to your house when your sick and make sure you’re still alive? Would my columnist friend be such a friend that he’ll help me move house or come to my 30th? I don’t think so. But I don’t want to pick on him; none of myspace is his fault.
I’m interested as to what other people think. Are your myspace friends your real ‘friends’? Can myspace friends become real friends? Are you as picky with online friends you are in real life? Is myspace just a cheap network for rock stars to get exposure? Do most people accept that by even having a profile you are subjected to at least twenty advertisements per log in? Does it really matter?
Believe me when I say that I’m genuinely not digging at anyone on myspace, friends or otherwise - mine is just a genuine and curious interest into the many and varied reasons for joining this site. I’ve divulged my reason, I’d like to hear yours. And if myspace has been everything you ever thought it would be and more.
And if you’re not up for answering any of my questions and think that for my own sake [and other people’s] I should just shut up, log off and get a life, you’re probably right. But this is MY space. You see, I’m finally getting the hang of it.
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Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
I dont have time for myspace - I have an Orble blog!
This literally is myspace, and I own it. If I dont like someone, I can delete tham (as yet, no ones made me want to be that bitchy)
On Orble, I believe Id be friends with all my 'friends' in life. Ive actually met someone who knows the infamous David, his story checks out. I cant vouch for my other pals but Id like to meet them all someday, even the ones overseas!
A mate I hadnt heard from in YEARS suddenly emailed me to invite me to facebook, I was so excited to hear from her (cos its a big wide world and mates get lost in it SO easily!) I went over, added myself and we had a chat. For about a day. Now she hasnt bothered. I think I was a popularity tool......
Thats why I like it here.......