My eyes are bleeding. In that painful, “Why the hell did I just read that … again” kind of way. Make it stop.
I have wanted to post about Facebook for a while. (Alright, I've wanted to just post for a while, and we all see how that's been going, so maybe not the best of intros there, granted.) I came reluctantly to the Facebook scene, probably because I have always had a reluctance to reconnect with the people I went to school with (you'll remember I'm the one who skipped prom for roller coasters because honestly, if I had the choice between hanging with the majority of my classmates or having my nails ripped out, I'd give up ever scratching an itch). But there are exceptions to every rule, right? And when my new group of friends, my 'real' friends, my hand-picked family if you will, all started raving about FB, well... I'm a follower.
And all in all it's been an interesting experience. The ones I thought would make good, who deserved to make good, have, at least for the most part. And there are, of course, the ones who haven't set a foot outside of their trailer park, and probably still don't know what's down at the end of the road. The confirmation of my beliefs has been an ego-enriching experience.
But the fun part, the most interesting part if you will, has been the odd few who I knew, and I mean KNEW, would probably end up as crab fodder, passed out and drowned in the ICWW from too much beer and bong who have actually tuned into interesting, intelligent adults. And maybe that is why, day after day, I allow my IQ to be sucked further down by the phenomenon that is Facebook. It's those people, the odd success stories, that capture my interest. Them, and Mafia Wars, of course.
But there is the TMI factor. We all post little updates about ourselves, about how we're feeling, what we're doing, etc. It's like Twitter (one addiction I have been able to curb) with lots of bonuses. But really, how much of this stuff do I want to know?
I am wholly of the idea that sexual encounters and religion are on the same plane of privacy. I doubt seriously anyone I know on FB or otherwise, would toss out a few perfectly written blurbs about that blow job she (or he, of course) gave last night, or would wax poetic about the most excellent position they enjoyed the week before. Facebook probably has some policy about that anyway. They seem to have a policy for most things.
But why is it that we can keep all our dirty laundry locked up tight, but we (we meaning ya'll of course, because me? Not lumping myself in with that group) suddenly feel the need to brag about our religions. “Had a beautiful rainy morning at church and got washed free of sins!” Umm, are JC, Big Daddy and the Spook now in the laundry business? Because I knew you way back when, and hon, ain't no bleach strong enough to wash that shit away. And why not drag the kids into it too, right. I mean, Little Ophelia is probably still shitting her pants, but I'm so glad she believes in God and is happy the Baby Cheeses died on the crossword so we can eat chocolate and color eggs that we hide in the backyard and find many months later when the boiled baby chicken has fully decomposed. Of course Little Ophelila believes in The Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, The Tooth Fairy, Ghosts, Goblins, The Monster Under the Bed, The Monster in the Closet (Did she just mention closets? Who's in the closet? Gay is so unGodly!), Mickey Mouse, Spiderman, and a whole plethora of other fictional characters so why, WHY for fucks sake, are you so PROUD (a sin, if memory serves) that she also believes in God?
When did church become the new status symbol? And is it so bad that I still don't feel like having the Herd Mentality?
“But Doc,” I can hear you thinking, “this reeks of bitterness.” You're damn right it does. I mean, here I sit, thousands of miles away from my 'home', getting a good bit of perspective from the distance, and what do I see? Hell, the USA started a war against religious extremists. Ain't that just the pot calling the kettle black?