The Myspace Pose
It’s become as ubiquitous as the site itself. And when the Myspacer’s eventually jumped from the sinking ship, (sorry Tom but it’s true), aboard more attractive social networks, they brought with them an unwelcome stowaway. Pointing a camera directly at a mirror while holding it from various angles can often give the illusion that you’re thinner and more attractive than you are. But that’s all it is: an illusion. You can’t hold a person in quite the same manner and make sure their eye line is viewing you at your best. You just can’t. They’re going to see you and your gut in all its conspicuous glory when they inevitably click on view more pictures. Why does this never occur to people? I personally like to have a mixed bag of good and not so good snap shots of me, so as to ensure if anyone ever met me in the flesh they wouldn’t be too disappointed and even dare I say it, pleasantly surprised.
Holiday snaps. They’re very effective at elevating your smug sense of self-worth to the online community. They confirm that you do in fact leave the dreary location of home once in a while and are a very cultured member of society. (Not to mention own goal-ing yourself, by intensifying an already prevalent bout of Seasonal Affective Disorder). And I know being a tourist with a camera is likened to that of a junkie looking for their next fix, but the need to fill a memory card with shot after shot of landscapes, sunsets, animals and the bed in the hotel room remains a mystery to me. The moment can never be captured, because when you get home you’re just going to bypass the photos of the horizon in favour of the ones of you enjoying yourself. Which is why you went on holiday in the first place, right?
When you’re hungry everything looks appetizing. I’m often hungry because I have a secret fat girl inside me. Many a time she’s seen strips of cardboard which resemble a succulent cut of sirloin. She’s mentally ill. The appeal is in her head. So listen carefully, just because it’s a meal that you’ve warmed up yourself, doesn’t mean it’s photo-worthy, in fact it’s mediocre at best and really quite forgettable. Your taste buds have momentarily taken control of your better judgment and convinced you that this dish wouldn’t look out of place in the likes of a pretentious yuppie establishment with a french sounding name. A picture of an “epic sandwich” isn’t timeless, it’s time consuming. Just eat it, experience a sense of self-loathing if you’ve just cheated your diet, be full, forget about it, be content for a few hours, then do it all again. And so the cycle of endless consumption continues.
Immerse yourself in this knowledge: NO ONE CARES. That’s all I have to say in this category. No witticisms. No picture. No tolerance.
A few months ago I blogged about the online presence of relationships and their public display of awareness. Which you can find here: http://bit.ly/c99299 Newsflash, you’re not on the cover of a gossip rag and neither is your relationship. No one cares that you’ve been photographed kissing, (the fact that our celebrity obsessed culture cares that anyone of fame and wealth is kissing, frankly frightens me, but that’s a separate issue). You’re a couple, it’s what couples do, we know. And believe me, no one is more thrilled than I am that you’ve found a life companion within this hostile world in which to exchange various diseases with, but, as a popular pop punk quintet would say, “save it for the bedroom”. And don’t leak a sex video to be passed among the local Smart phones either, because no one wants to see that. (That’s not a lyric in the song, but it really should be).
Watching and enjoying a gig used to be the primary motives as an audience member. But as technology has soldiered on, so has our idea of a good time. I used to have my view obstructed by people’s heads and now, my vision is consistently accosted with rows of camera phones. You think you’re immortalising the moment, but what you’re going to end up with is, well arm ache, primarily. And an image that might have a silhouette of a figure, clutching what looks to be a threatening weapon, that has become an amalgamated part of them. Not to mention a ream of blurred images that resemble a child’s water painted interpretation of a rainbow.
Recognise her? No? Well, I do. It’s me. How refreshingly original. I’ve taken a regular word and manipulated it to fit a different context. A lewd context. I’m living proof that maturity isn’t acquired simply through age. Don’t do this. It will come back to haunt you, I guarantee it. This also goes for moronically grinning and pointing at an advertisement for a company which has the same name as you. Yes, the world exists outside of your own bubble. It’s mind boggling.