Wednesday, March 31, 2010
... You don't already know this from my Facebook.
Facebook is starting to freak me out. I realized long ago, some time between graduating from college and present day, it became totally acceptable to be an online stalker. At one point the only way to navigate through Facebook was to stalk (crunk juice stalk it out). Your start page was your own profile, and if you wanted to find out what’s up with your friends or that certain someone you have an unhealthy obsession with, you simply searched for their profile page and looked to see if they’d recently updated their favorite movies, quotes, or if someone had written on the graffiti-esque “wall” (totally editable by all users).
Then came the dawn of the “feed,” and OMG. Even lackadaisical Facebook users are now taunted to stalk as much as humanly possible upon each log on. Eventually a routine I referred to as my “rounds” (the profiles I regularly check up on) faded away; now it’s just constant scrolling through the feed to see what’s the haps with everyone I know (and a pretty sizeable amount I don’t know). As I’m sure is the case with many people, I’ve never met a sizeable portion of my friends list. Many others I haven’t spoken to in years. Oh, and just because we met once doesn’t automatically constitute the bond of Facebook friendship.
But all of this I’ve come to accept. It’s a new era; people operate differently... and I’m getting “old” and “out of touch,” whatever. In some ways, it’s good; people are friendlier. I’ve gotten to know some pretty awesome people I probably wouldn’t have even met if not for the internet and social networking sites. In fact, I’ve become pretty good friends with a few folks who knew me first only from my online personality.
What is starting to “freak me out,” as I stated previously, is the slow decline of people’s ability to engage in conversation in real life (IRL if you will). People are seemingly becoming more and more dependent on the shelter and comfort of socializing alone from his or her bedroom. After all, you can craft your responses with much more consideration; it’s easier to be witty when response time isn’t an issue. I feel like younger kids will grow up primarily texting and Facebooking their friends and it honestly scares me a little bit.
The sole reason for my recent plunge into fear of Facebook, though, is the fact that I am losing the ability to participate in small talk. And it’s not me – it’s all you stalkers. Maybe I’m crazy, but I’m still hanging on to this idea that “stalking is bad.” Just like you wouldn’t admit to driving by someone’s house – should you admit you’ve memorized every single Facebook update within the past few weeks? I keep my mouth shut, lest I exude excessive creepiness.
For example, let’s say it’s been a week or so since I’ve seen a friend. I catch up with her for a movie, for dinner, at an event of some kind, whatever… and we begin with the typical “How’ve you been?” crap. After we both answer “same shit, different day” in so many words, I launch into some sort of story this friend hasn’t heard first hand since last I saw her. Now, maybe this tale is only vaguely entertaining, but it’s gotta have a hint of intrigue, annoyance, or humor in order for me to find it worth telling. About a sentence into my story, however, I’m cut off by this mystery friend. “Oh yeah, I saw that on your Facebook!”
My immediate reaction to that is similar to the reaction I’d have if you’d cut me off with, “Cool story, Hansel” paired with a haughty smirk or rolling of the eyes. I’m gonna pretty much shut down. You’ve assumed the one sentence from me on your Facebook feed that alluded to the story I was about to regale you with… that was the whole story. Or, at the very least, that’s all you wanted to hear. Seriously, I’m starting to develop some sort of complex here. Either my stories are unbearingly lengthy and/or boring, or no one else has problems admitting how much of a stalker they truly are.
I could choose to update my Facebook status less often, but therein lies a dilemma. I have a pretty awful memory when it comes to remembering to tell people things. Like seriously, if I have something to chat with you about, or something funny to tell you, I’m going to email or call or text you right away, otherwise when you ask me what’s new later, I’ll draw a blank and respond lamely with, “Oh, you know… nothing much.”
Maybe I’ll just start saying, “Please refer to my Facebook page.”
Sunday, March 7, 2010
... Sadly, no actual flash mob to report.
It was dark and stormy night.
Alright, so that's not entirely true. It was definitely night (Tuesday, February 23rd to be exact), therefore it was also dark, but last time I checked a light drizzle in 30-something degrees doesn't constitute a storm in Chicago. Anyway...
It was a dark and cold night. A small venue known for hosting mostly indie-rock bands opened its doors to maybe five or six dozen hipsters and the like who packed The Empty Bottle's dance floor, anxiously waiting for the first notes of a live set from French DJ Vitalic. The crowd was comprised of a dude to chick ratio of at least 3:1; even then, it seemed like most of the girls that were there had been dragged there by their boyfriends. A good amount of the crowd seemed to be long time fans of the man lesser known as Pascal Arbez; even a few Frenchies were in attendance. Some of the "heads" stood quietly in the back, soaking in every note, while some joined the party in the front row, jumping up and down with the best of them. (I should say "the best of us," since I was in the midst of the electronic music version of moshing, which is like the Lutheran version of spicy food.) The rest of the crowd seemed to be people who maybe frequent The Empty Bottle and decided to check out whoever the venue had booked on a Tuesday night in February -- it's always my optimistic hope that at any of these shows a few eyes are opened, some new fans are made. :)
Vitalic started his set a bit earlier than I expected, sometime after 11:30pm. Shortly into his set, technical difficulties reared its ugly head and the sound cut completely. After less than a minute of obligatory wooo!'s from the crowd to fill the void of sound from the stage, he was back up and running. He went right back into his set, filling the bar with the familiar sounds of synth and disco. Navigating his way through a steady, driving set, making sure to showcase the tracks from his newest album "Flashmob," by about 1:00 am he wrapped things up and made a quick, discrete exit from the venue. Although I was saddened by the length of the set, that remains my only complaint from the night -- I simply wanted more. Vitalic was relentless throughout the entirety of his set, pounding out track after track showing no signs of stopping, leaving the crowd with sore feet and big grins painted across their faces. With his head down and only showing the hint of a smile occasionally throughout his performance, he seemed shy if not a little awkward -- definitely not the hands-in-the-air point to the sky DJ, nor the pretentious techno rockstar DJ. For a guy used to much, much larger crowds across the pond, he seemed to be genuinely pleased with the Chicago crowd's gusto. All in all, I'm glad I made the trip to the windy city, and although unlikely, I would be love to see Vitalic again.
a quick video i took of "poison lips"
another video from moi
this guy's video is much better than mine are :)
Take note of the makeshift Vitalic logo on the laptop on the photo above. With the flash, you can't really tell, but with the clever placement of some electrical tape, the familiar apple logo became a glowing white V in the darkness.
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