24 October 2009

Attention Whore!

A few days ago, Facebook changed the layout of the news feed it displays to members. The only obvious difference is that now there are two news feeds. The first is labeled "live feed" and it displays in real time all of the information your 600+ "friends" are posting right now. The second-and the only real change to the Facebook universe-is labeled "news feed". Now the difference, is subtle and, quite honestly, it took me a fair amount of time to realize what the difference between to two was.
But when I realized, well, I understood why 23 of my facebook friends had joined a group against it already. You see, the change allows something that should be an exciting addition. However, the change limits our publicity. In the "news feed", the magical facebook decides who your favorite "friends" are and displays only their postings. Crap. This means that no longer do all of my displays do not get sent to ALL of my friends. This means that, in theory, my "friends" could choose to only observe their news feed, and thus they would never see the meaningless status updates I was posting. This means that only people facebook decides care about me will be able see me.
We really are attention whores. We post statuses on Twitter every fifteen minutes with our location and what we're up to. We reply to facebook posts, and take quizes no one cares about. We blog to our three or four continual readers. We have tumblrs, and flickrs, and plenty of social networking systems under our belts. Sure, myspace is on the downfall, but that hasn't stopped us from acquiring four other systems to let the world know our every move. We need to be noticed and adored and looked in the face and told "you exist". That's why the girls in front of me at movies are invariably texting; their blue light filling the theatre and averting my attention. They too, need to be continually reaffirmed of their importance.
See, I'm doing it right now. I'm blogging, and the blogosphere revolves entirely around attention. I could say that I'm writing for my own enjoyment. Which, partially, I am. But reality screams that were I only writing for my own happiness I would do so in a Word document, or on some tattered deadened tree. I wouldn't beg for comments, or desire a beaucoup of readers. Yet, I'm picking my words for you, dear reader, in the hope that you will read my tiresome rant, and look me dead in the eye and say "you are real".

Confession: I am an attention whore.

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