Monday, December 04, 2006

A place for fiends.

The other night, I was talking to some random person at a random get together. I told him to get a myspace, so he could add me and Josh's band, and thus increase our number of friends by one. He responded by asking me "what's a myspace?"

...

I was so envious. This person had found a way to remain so out of the loop that they didn't even know what myspace was.

Just imagine...

Never having gone through the process of filling out that long registartion form, answering the e-mail to verify everything, putting lame pictures up, writing a short explanation of yourself, complete with your favourite movies, music, books, television programs, writing and receiving lame comments.

Never having a top 8.

Never seeing pictures of 15 year old scantily clad girls with hair in their face, at awkward angles from holding their webcam above them at arms legnth.

Never getting awkward personal messages from lonely 37 year old men/random people from Eastern Europe or Southeast Asia.

Never having to listen to some horrible post-hardcore band that wants you to add them.

Never having your head explode when horribly obnoxious loud music starts piping out of whoever's profile your browsing while you're wearing headphones and listening to soft, quiet, Sufjan Stevens.

None of that. He'd had none of that. I was so impressed. I mean, I know not EVERYONE has a myspace. But to have never even have heard of it. That suprised me.

Afterward, I felt really guilty. This guy actually went and got a myspace. I haven't talk to him since, but he no doubt has then subjected to a bizarre new world of depravity. Strange people getting kicks from things he'll never know. Excessive amounts of yeliner, whatever the fuck "<3" and "< / 3" means, so many horribly self indulgent blogs with lame poetry (mine hasn't quite crossed that line yet...)

BAH! But who am I to talk? I'm a myspace band whore now. I'm guilty of it, I admit. I tell everyone about our myspace. HERE IT IS!! It's a strange sad addiction. Checking your page every half hour for updates, going on adding binges, leaving comments on random people's pages so they HAVE to comment back, and then I can sign on and see we have new messages and it's just like christmas.... It's a shame, I know, but it's the price I pay for being a musician right now. Myspace is just a really good idea for bands. And people with prepubescent emo fetishes.

2 comments:

xoxo said...

Hahahahhahahaha.

Oh, oh I know. I always feel a wave of guilt after I myspacesurf and try to find new friends. I could blame it on the fact that I moved away from PG and want to stay in touch, thus having an apt excuse as you do... but it would be feeble.

Sometimes I'm tempted to just tear down the whole thing.

Funny thing is, everyone in Victoria uses "facebook"

You know what else is addicting? BLOGGER. I SHOULD BE FUCKING STUDYING FOR MY FINAL TOMORROW, BLARGH!

T.R. said...

Congratulations you've just given someone their first hit of crack.

 
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