Facebook

When I first started getting into Twitter many people asked me what the "point" was. It's simple really, it's sharing information in the simplest form.

Most of the people who ask me this question spend the vast majority of their free time wasting it on Facebook, a website that has clearly lost the plot. Apparently Facebook's "mission is to give people the power to share and make the world more open and connected."

Yes, the power to share. To share stories, to share the mundane things that happen in life and to share the exciting things that happen in life. This could be done using status updates, writing on each other's "walls", photos, videos, blogs.

But in recent times things have changed, people aren't using Facebook to share. Instead more and more people are simply clicking buttons to join groups or become fans of the most stupid things.

"the deep conversations before going to bed at sleepovers"

"Join if you have ever pulled a door that said Push."

"The awkward moment when you watch two people hug, and you feel like a loner."

Facebook is ruining itself, it's ruining the enjoyment of sharing experiences. Joining groups and becoming fans are lazy ways to share what people may agree or disagree with.

I'd bet that most people wouldn't have even thought of commenting on whether they used to watch raindrops fall down a window to see which one would "win" if it hadn't been for another friend noticing another friend of a friend set up the page.

Some of the group names are quite funny or are perhaps true reflections of those little incidents in life. I wouldn't mind if people wrote on each other's walls recollecting on the most average and mediocre aspects of life, at least then they'll actually be communicating with other people. And also then I may actually find some of my "friends" interesting and worth investing my time in.

I feel like I have false notions of so many people, just because I know them only or primarily through the Internet. It's so much more interesting and enlightening to get to know someone in reality, without all that. I like being able to discover things about people by asking them, hearing from them, having mysteries and encountering little discoveries along the way. I like seeing the dissonance between someone’s facial expression and or body language and what they are saying. When we all have control over what we look like and how we define ourselves on the Internet, it removes that mystery. And it turns "friendship" into something that has less to do with knowing people deeply than just knowing whatever bits and pieces of them they want to reveal (which happens in real-world relationships too, but moreso on the Internet).

Human beings are far, far more complex and wonderful than their status updates and “ingredient listing” profile pages. And it is far more rewarding and profound to get to know someone in an unsafe, slightly uncertain and awkward way than to rigorously research them and pretend to know them via all the accumulated Internet data on them.

So let’s take a step back from the groups and think about this. Do we really think that sending out these messages with randomly selected tidbits about ourselves is making anyone more known? Who are we kidding? As a mindless diversion and exercise in classic facebook self-love, it’s fine. But as a commentary on the uses and practices of online social networking (which I think it pretty much is), these groups and fan pages are nothing if not a warning sign that the end is near.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #10

The Christmas holidays are stressful.

Gift shopping, money dropping, and through it all you’re planning giant family dinners, and complicated travel plans.

It’s nice in these roaring revved-up moments when a complete stranger catches your eye and wishes you a heartfelt "Merry Christmas".

Whether it’s the cashier at the supermarket, the receptionist in an office, or the lady getting a perm beside you at the salon, it’s nice scoring that warm littleseason’s greetingsto remind us we’re all chasing the same ol’ thing.

That’s right: Love, big hugs, family time, and cozy company right when we need it most.

Merry Christmas!

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #9

TYPING USERNAMES AND PASSWORDS

Put your hand up if you type slow.

Yes, if you’re a clickity-clackity finger-punching purist whose chubby fingers stab at the keyboard with the rhythm and grace of a tiny bird picking pebbles at the park, then you’re not alone.

Stumbling over emails, bumbling over reports, you touch-type with a finger-bouncing pace that backspaces a bunch, slows down in a crunch, and gets twisted and snarled on big word speed bumps.

Thank goodness you’ve got your username and password for some speed of lightning superfast quick-typing.

Oh yeah, baby.

Yes, when you log onto your computer, innernet, or email account your fingers suddenly take on a life of their own. They become possessed and you barely recognise them as they zip-zoom across the keys in a windy blur like The Flash.

Sometimes you really don’t even know your password because your brain has outsourced all memory of it to your fingers who somehow always manage to come up with it right when you need it most.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #8

SHORT PEOPLE

They’re short and there’s nothing they can do about it except learn to live with their crazy shortness. For this reason, we respect them and think they’re cool.

If you’re really, really short, you feel it, because this is your life:

• Forget seeing anything at concerts. Sure, everybody loves being behind you, but at what price? The standing area is a bad scene and mosh pits are strictly off limits. No, you’re stuck sitting at the bar or watching from the balcony.

• You can’t reach anything. Kitchen cupboards and closest shelves are bad enough, but the worst is when you find yourself somewhere alone and stoolless. People, if you’ve ever found yourself climbing the hotel bar fridge to reach the coffee filters or stepping on the metal grocery store shelf to reach the hot sauce then you know what I’m talking about.

• Hard to date people. Well, not hard, but complicated. I mean, would you date someone really, really short? If not, you see the problem here. And don’t even get me started the short-guys-dancing-with-tall-girls things. Fellas, I been there, too. It’s not easy.

• You can forget about that pro-basketball career. You might still make it as a referee, but that’s about it.

• Shorter life span. Sadly, according to the eggheads at The New York Times short people are more likely to develop coronary heart disease, diabetes, and stroke. Bummer.

• You’re constantly adjusting driver’s seats and mirrors. On top of that complain when they get in the car after you and have to adjust everything because they can’t fit.

• Some roller coasters are off limits. Minimum height requirements are clearly relics from a discriminatory society that inhabited this land before us.

It really is a tough life.

So next time you see a really, really short person, break out the empathy. Remember: they’re short and there’s nothing they can do except learn to live with their crazy shortness. Sure, they buy cheaper children’s clothes, find the best spots in Hide and Seek, sleep easier on couches, easily avoid walking into tree branches, are more comfortable at movies, and curl nicely into cramped spooning arrangements, but they also have to live life with a lot of limits. In this upside-down and inside-out world, that’s worth something.

So go on and throw them a smile and a nod, a cracking high five, and some quiet and humble respect.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #7

Peanut Butter

When I peel the top off a new jar of peanut butter I like to pretend I’m a scientist peering through the world’s most powerful telescope, catching Earth’s first glimpse of a new, strange and distant planet. “It’s got a smooth surface,” I exclaim to the lab of giddy professors standing breathlessly beside me. “Yes, it’s a beautiful airless landscape, untouched, undisturbed, and light brown.”

Because seriously, that’s what the top of a jar of peanut butter looks like to me. I almost feel bad thinking about what I’m about to do, because it’s just so perfect, smooth, and dense. But I put some bread in the toaster anyway, grab a spoon from the drawer, and then go right ahead and dig that spoon in there deep, catching a heavy handful of thick PB when I pull up, a loud, wet, satisfying schthlop plopping out of the jar.

It’s a great feeling.

After that, I’m an artist. I can just leave a big, gaping hole right in the middle of the jar, or I can do it all up real fancy and twirl and swirl it around a little, or I can painstakingly carve a moat around the outside of the jar, leaving a perfect, flat island in the middle, becoming more and more unstable with every passing day. The options are unlimited.

Really, I think getting the first dig in a jar of peanut butter is the kitchen equivalent of stabbing a flag into the moon and claiming it as your own. I mean, you mark that peanut butter. You brand it. You add your little stamp and you put it back in the pantry, ready and waiting for the next big schthlop.

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Awesome Things #6

Eating Cookies Like The Cookie Monster

It sure is a sign of gluttonous satisfaction when you find yourself home alone, slouching on the couch in front of the TV with your eyes half open, a steady trail of cookie crumbs dripping from your mouth onto your shirt and pants, chocolate smears on your lips and fingers, and the telltale cookie package laying beside you, the plastic tray peeled all the way out of the bag, entire rows laying vacant except for a bit of brown dust and maybe a rogue chocolate chip or two.

Yes, it’s satisfying all right, because many delicious cookies were eaten, without witnesses, in a very quick and steady stream, by shoving them into your mouth, chewing a few times, and then swallowing quickly to make room for the next one. You’re a cookie monster and you love it.

Eating cookies like Cookie Monster is great because, more than anything, it represents freedom. Yes, free thought takes you to the pantry, free will makes you grab that cookie package and sit down on the couch, and free Wonder Years reruns keep you company while you sit down and enjoy. You’re the Executive Chef in your personal Dessert Kitchen here. Just tell me that’s not liberating.

I mean, sure, we all know it’s not the greatest idea to eat a pile of cookies just before bed, but that’s not the point. The point is: you can do it. Yes, you’ve come a long way from the portion-controlled cookie snacks you got when you were a kid, that maybe two or three cookies in a small plate with a tall glass of milk that just whet your appetite for more. Now it’s all you all the time, baby. Nobody is going to stop you except you. You can eat a whole row. You can eat two whole rows. You can plough them in there. You can savor them slowly. The point is, it’s such a great feeling to scarf cookies without abandon like Cookie Monster.

Truly, he was the role model for us all.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #5

Rain Hair

You know when you get caught in the rain and your amazing hairdo turns into a wet, frizzy mess? Well, I say that’s a good thing. Because hear me out.

Let’s talk about how much time, money, and effort we put into the managing and upkeep of our golden locks of dead skin cells. How about a lot? Now, don’t get me wrong, I play the game too. I wash my hair, condition it up, gel it up, shake it up. I prepare it for the day and check in periodically to see how it’s doing. Any rogue locks, fallen bangs? What’s new in the slowly-going-bald corners? And how’s that back-of-the-neck beard coming in this month? I spend way too much time on it. And my hair looks like a squirrel that’s been run over on the road for a few weeks.

Our pals over at Wikipedia make hair sound like the Sun or fresh water, saying in their snooty tone that head hair has ‘gained an important significance in nearly all present societies as well as any given historical period throughout the world.’ But then again, those eggheads can make anything sound pretty serious. It’s just hair, after all.

I say maybe the army got it right when they instituted crew cuts after World War I trench warfare gave everyone lice and fleas. Maybe there’s something to be said about the no-maintenance plan, the low-maintenance plan, or the no-plan at all. Because whenever I walk by someone with hair just flying everywhere, all unkempt and full of knots, dirty dreads, and dead leaves, I get jealous for a second. Think of the free time they have! I mean, sure, they stick out. But… what if we all got in the game? Then maybe we’ve got something. Then maybe everyone’s garden would look immaculate, the gyms would get really crowded, and the libraries would run out of books. You’d just have to put up with all these shaggy, scraggly sasquatches walking around, that’s all.

And that’s what I kind of like about rain hair. It’s a temporary escape from the Hair Prison we live in. When everyone shows up at the movies or mall with the wet and frizzy flyaways, the hair matted to their foreheads, and the hair spray dripping and stinging their eyes, it’s like yeah, we all look like a mess. But the rain sure does wash away expectations, too.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola