barrettchase.com

barrettchase.com
obey the rules. often enter. organize your material.

Tue, 16 Aug 2011

I can't even remember how long ago it was (maybe three weeks? a month?) but I recently deactivated my Facebook account. This both looks and sounds a lot more permanent than it really is. "Deactivate" sounds like "quit forever," and that's really what it seems like to the outside observer. I'm no longer there. At all. My girlfriend's relationship status has changed from "in a domestic partnership with Barrett Chase," to simply, "in a domestic partnership," which makes it sound like she bats for the other team which is priceless.

The thing is, you can't really quit Facebook entirely. Well, you probably can somehow, but it's difficult. They don't want to let you go. Clicking "deactivate" and then answering yes to "are you sure you want to deactivate" and then answering yes to "no seriously are you really certain you want to deactivate" just means you're going on a temporary hiatus. Simply enter your username and password (already stored in your browser!) and login again, and there you go — everything's just as it was before.

When I did all this, I said I was only quitting for a month or so, and then I was coming back. But now that I'm out, I really really want to be out for good. Not being on Facebook is awesome.

Facebook is Orwellian in many ways, but the thing that always irritated me was how it took nice people that I actually liked in real life, ground them up and spit them out in this disgusting-yet-boring ooze of humanity that I absolutely loathed. It's kind of like everyone you ever met in your entire life suddenly became a telemarketer or a creepy magazine salesperson and then came barging into your life in a constant stream. Both painfully boring and irritating at the same time.

This all sounds really misanthropic, but I'll say again that these are people that I like in person. I don't exempt myself from it either. I was a part of that ooze of humanity too, and I'm sure my boneheaded opinions and weak stabs at humor annoyed more than one of my online friends.

The moment I deactivated, I felt exactly how I feel when I clean off the kitchen counter, do the dishes and put everything away in its place. It's a feeling of tidiness. There's nothing in the back of my mind, waiting to be attended upon.

Around the same time, I quit Goodreads, a social networking site that keeps track of the books you read and lets you see what your friends have been reading. Theoretically, it's a good idea, and the way some people use it I can see how it would be really useful. I rarely updated it, however, and I never looked at anyone else's books or reviews. Still, there it was on my phone and on my browser's toolbar, constantly waiting and radiating disappointment.

I deleted it completely. No more loose ends. Once again, that great feeling like I've changed my oil and vacuumed out the interior of my car.

This made me realize something crucial in all this: I don't want to share everything I do. I don't want a system that lists every song I listen to for all my friends to see in real time as I'm listening to them. I don't want to post every book I read and every movie I watch. I don't want to post the results of every online game I play. And I don't want to see these things from other people either.

I do want to know real things that are actually happening to my friends and in my community. It should be more like running into people real life. "I just got into an accident!" is crucial. "Look at this photo I took of a guy walking an ostrich," is awesome. "I just had a great meal at the Thai place down the street," is just fine. "I just put up a fence on my virtual farm" is incredibly boring and not something you need to tell another person let alone everyone you've ever met.

Lately, I've been enjoying Google+, although not many people use it and those who do seem to use it infrequently. I think it has potential to solve a lot of Facebook's problems. Its core strength is that it allows you to direct certain types of content only toward the people you think will appreciate it, which I like.

Although, today Google+ added a games feature, with such Facebook-style games like Angry Birds and Bejeweled Blitz. This is one of the worst, most annoying features of Facebook and I'm sad that Google+ is going in this direction.

Social networks can learn a lot from Twitter, which does nothing more than what it should do, and consequently makes you enjoy the people you follow and meet there. And yes, you can follow people you don't know and gradually come to know them over time. This is the "networking" part of social networking.

I don't want to quit social networking entirely. I want to be able to know what's going on in the lives of my friends and family, and to read witty and interesting blurbs from people I don't know or only know slightly. The problem is, most of it is all wrapped up in this marketing and data-collection machine that tramples not only on your actual wants but on your rights as well.

Can't we just build our own?

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