Tag: facebook

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The Age of the Overstated Social Media Post

Credit: Social Media Week

Ah, social media. It has evolved faster than we can regulate it.

We are unprepared for the diverging ways it affects the psyche.

It has birthed the influencer, internet scientist, troll, and the memer, to name but a few.

But it also serves as a platform from which people who would not ordinarily be expected to release a statement, now find themselves typing out paragraphed declarations to show thought, insight and sometimes, wit.

But with the furore over WhatsApp’s privacy policy, people have posted their statements on why they have decided to leave, or stay on the platform.

The paragraphs are there, the reasoning spelled out, and the conclusion of “please forward further queries to” dealt out with such speed, that one would have thought they were trying to beat a deadline.

And then wait for people to weigh in via the comments section. Nothing provides more clarity and clear exchange of ideas like a debate on social media.

What happened to just doing a thing? Why announce it to the world?

On the WhatsApp drama, I had inadvertently agreed to the T’s and C’s while half asleep, but also recognised that I would remain on Facebook for work (and some pleasure – it does have its perks), and that I would do whatever necessary to secure my online privacy.

My job requires me to make use of various avenues of communication, and deleting WhatsApp would work against that need.

I therefore have Telegram, Signal (most secure), and WhatsApp.

I prefer the latter.

But I did not release a statement via WhatsApp or Facebook. I did not feel the need to explain my decision.

So imagine my annoyance, when I received a social media “press statement” from someone I know quite well, who shared that after much thought and research, would remain on WhatsApp.

Rolling eyes emoji.

I think I would have clued that from their presence on the platform.

Perhaps this person is on a different social media journey that has evolved from the inane “pizza for breakfast, yum” post, to the paragraphed press release detailing the intricacies of why the pizza was not eaten the night before, and the pleasure of eating cold pizza.

Perhaps my social media variant has evolved differently.

Facebook Memories reminds me daily of how annoying I was in my early days of using the platform.

Why, oh why in 2008, did I feel the need to declare to the world that I was at work? Or that I was at work, but feeling ill? Or that I was ill, but at least I wasn’t at work. (This actually came up on my Facebook Memories recently).

Has social media evolved into a platform for ordinary people to post their personal press releases?

Even when the release is just a well-written rant, or self-aggrandising comment that expounds a thought that others may be thinking?

Chances are that people may have actually come to these conclusions (not virtually, but in person) and have done so through an exchange of ideas and expressions that only interpersonal communication can produce.

Is it possible that these conclusions still exist even if they have not been communicated without posting it on social media?

Is a thought less worthy if it is not shared widely?


Perhaps I should post this piece to social media for a definitive answer.

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Nail to Fame

Comedian and professional awkward person, Simon Amstell does a bit where he speaks about how his mother normalises famous people.

The line goes something like: you see that celebrity? Well shit comes out of them.

Good observation mamma Amstell. Shit comes out of most everyone; except for those unfortunate souls with medical conditions preventing the satisfying process of expelling shit.

So when you encounter people who get starstruck or, obsess about how perfect a celebrity is, you must wonder if they’ve considered that shit comes out of their preferred celeb.

Benedict Cumberbatch fans are strange. Some of them even refer to themselves as Cumberbitches. Some of them can’t contain themselves when he wears tight shirts. But the more odd amongst the Cumbercollective, are the fans who marvel (pun intended) at his hands.

Why though? They’re just hands. Granted, they’re attached to one of the most obsessed about British actors, but they’re just hands.

I wonder about those people who source those pictures of his hands, those who scour the internet for just the right angle of his 10 digits. Do the aesthetics of his hands have any impact on their day? If put to a challenge, would they be able to discern Benedict’s hands from other decoys?

You may even ask why I’m even dedicating this blog post to his hands. The answer: they keep coming up on my damned Facebook news feed.

Gosh. I’d probably be able to tell them apart from other hands if challenged. Though I wouldn’t stake my life on it.

I looked at those neatly trimmed fingernails and it occurred to me that even Benedict Cumberbatch must think ‘I need to trim these bad boys’.

And then there’s the whole process that he may one day realise that his clippers are blunt, and have to run out and get a new pair. There can’t be many things more work-a-day than having to buy nail clippers.

So nevermind the shit, consider the less graphic, humanising nail clipper.

*You may argue that Benedict goes for manicures, and my answer to that very plausible thought is: shhhh