There are many joys being locked in with a teenager for an extended time. Extra Lockdown 3.0 has given me the time to go on exciting endeavours like delving through my junk mail folder and scoring lovely new online connections. I received this beautiful comment on a Facebook post:
I must confess and thank you so much my friend request. Although I translated to your language and hope you don’t mind, you are beautiful? My new best mate is clearly a high ranking, good looking Army General based in Texas.
I’m filled with happiness when complete strangers with expertise in marketing or real estate sales in their bios try to add me as a connection, and nothing makes me feel more soothed than the comments written by professional networkers on Scotty from marketing’s LinkedIn posts.
I’m revelling in reading long essays by conspiracy theorists with obvious expertise in epidemiology commenting on health professionals’ social media posts; relaxing reading that I highly recommend in the middle of a pandemic.
I’m deeply moved by the inspirational quotes obviously written by Gandhi, Jesus and that lady influenza who promotes yoga pants on Instagram. I feel so motivated now that genuine celebrities are following and messaging me on Twitter. I am focused on success instead of endless hours of TV watching.
And I’m humbled that I’ve secured a large sum of money from long-lost distant relatives in far-flung places who only want what’s best for me.
I can’t tell you how exciting it is to know that I can buy healing anti inflammatory lollies from one of my online mates who did extensive research on YouTube. Honestly, I can’t tell you.
Like, I’m really, really, really like energised by social commentary online, like for reals totes legit like, as the people I gave birth to love me to exclaim regularly in front of their friends in enclosed public spaces while I’m hitting the chardy. Sorry. Like I forgot about the pandemic pandemonium for a second there.
No really, I’m thrilled by your business opportunities, I haven’t left the chat permanently, I’m just having a nanna nap for a couple of years.
I will never understand why people apologise for not posting on their Facebook or Instagram pages for a few days or weeks. It’s a photo of your dog giving up carbs, or your breakfast or an opinion on your dog having breakfast without carbs, and God knows the world doesn’t need any more opinions. If Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Insta, MyTwitFace, Snapchat, LookAtMe, SelfiesRus whatever all closed down tonight nothing would actually happen. No one’s life would change if a minor young celebrity missed a few days posting on YouTube and actually went out into the real world and achieved contact with their fellow humans and didn’t document every fart. If Tumblr folded tomorrow that may push a lot of awful angst-filled young poets slash artists slash waiters offline but I can live with that.
Facebook as a platform has become like an old high school friend who keeps sending you invitations to pyramid selling parties disguised as fun-filled reunions. You kind of want to stay in touch but then you remember that the drama and the detail and the requests to buy from their brother’s online vitamin business have become so annoying that you wonder why you bother. I check my news feed and think, yes I’m guilty as charged, I’ve bored people to tears with descriptions of my eating habits, or family or 500 too many photos of a holiday, but some days I can’t face reading about someone I last saw in person four years ago doing the same. In the political sphere, Farcebook has become a redneck wonderland and I just don’t have the energy to deal with it.
Yes, I love the witty people, and the connection with dear ones who live overseas and the camaraderie of groups of people with whom you share a passion or career, but for the love of the goddesses, can we filter out the passive-aggressive questions aimed at god-knows-who, the ill-thought-out spelling of your/youre/Ur, the I’ve lost six kilos today, conspiracy theories and the humble bragging?
We need editing filters on all our social media accounts that say, This post is dull or derived from an uninformed and uneducated view of the world, are you really sure you want to post this? This post will be muted for the good of humanity.
Ah, the irony. Of course, I’ve linked this whinge of a blog post to publish on Facebook and Twitter. Hope to see you living in the real world one year soon.
Dear selfie kings and queens,
Here’s a revolutionary idea for you when posting to your millions of followers on Instagram: Your posts can be edited.
Call me old fashioned but if you profess to be an expert in your field, perhaps you could proudly display that you can grasp the basic idea of stringing a sentence together?
Maybe proclaiming that youre / your / ur a thought leader then displaying a smorgasbord of unedited grammar and spelling mistakes is not ideal for your brand. If you’re claiming to help people get millions of followers perhaps it would help if you were mildly literate.
It’s bad enough when Insta ‘celebratiez’ post photos of their ugly children, but recently, on her Insta feed, well-known personal trainer MB posted the words,
All be it
I think the word she was looking for was albeit. Really. I’m going to start a heartfelt crowdfunding campaign for the poor lady, she obviously can’t afford to pay someone to proofread her life-changing posts.
Pert ladies and buff gents, you know that tweets can’t be edited (looking at you idiot President number 45) but all your other brilliant revolutionary thoughts on other social media channels can. How about you learn to use the delete button and maybe send a text to a friend who can spell so they can read your genius ideas before you pay to boost your inspo post?
I really love that your /ur / youre a lifestyle guru and new media-savvy social influencer. Honestly I do. But if you want to be a disruptor (gag) then maybe read your ‘next ‘level’ post before you hit the share button…
As a well-known hash taggerer, disruptor slash influenza influencer slash media guru and recent graduate of The Richard Wilkins’ School of Real Good Journalism ‘n’ That, I’m very, very busy coming up with Get Rich Quick Schemes and ways to help my many readers find more ways to connect and waste time on social media. I’m hoping to motivate my huge fanbase to break through brick walls and hashtag their way to world peace, pin so many photos on Pinterest that the war in Syria will end, and sign so many petitions that Malcolm Turnbull will finally grow a spine. Whatevs.
I’m so busy being fabulous that I’m hoping you won’t notice that I’ve written a short and gratuitous blog post this week. In the meantime, here is some of my unbelievably artistic rhyming poetry stuff:
Two little dicky birds sitting on a wall
One named Peter (Dutton) and one named Paul (Keating)
Rack off Peter, kick him off Paul
Drop dead Peter, come back Paul
Controversial political art that is
I recently read this ad on Farcebook:
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Having faith in God and hope through his strength and grace and awesomeness allows u to achieve all your goals and live a life of abundance…. Service and happiness and peace
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Like · Reply · 23 October at 23:23
As the childrens head back to school after the long summer holidays I have turned into tyrant mother. I’ve installed software that cuts off the internet, which is a shame because it is really cutting into my time-wasting watching inane crap on social media therapy. I am not the first parent to use the cruel to be kind parenting method (patent pending), but in the digital age us parents need help to conquer the gazing at pointless clips on youtube disease that has spread amongst our kids. My youngest loves watching people playing Minecraft. WTF? I guess that’s no different to my secret joy at reading celebrity gossip and looking at pictures of Brad and Angelina and pretending I have that kind of fantasy family life. My 13-year-old is so sleep deprived from reading all the late night messages from her friends I had to stage an intervention. She told me not to cut off the internet so she could complete her homework but I figure if she hasn’t done it by 10 at night it’s too late. I’m hoping my little technological helper will enable me to have a more rested and harmonious household. My gal may even read one of the novels she is supposed to study this year and I may get some work done.