Joining Facebook a few years ago, I was aghast. Why? It seemed everyone was much nicer than me.
Although already aware of my misanthropic side, being confronted with this disparity on a daily basis was depressing. Was the rest of humanity really so supportive, upbeat and wholesome as Facebook seemed to indicate?
Here’s an example. Not long ago, someone wrote on Facebook that he was feeling “crappy.”
“Change the ‘c’ and ‘r’ to an ‘h’ and you’ll feel better,” wrote someone else.
What? My response (not that I made one) would have been: “Hey, I feel crappy too. We all do. Have you ever read Jean-Paul Sartre?”
On Facebook, people write about life-affirming nature hikes or going to picturesque markets to buy herbal butter or special pickles. Often, such declarations are followed with: “Life is good.”
“Just walked my golden retriever with my wonderful, handsome husband. He’s now baking pecan brownies! Life is good.” Or: “Just finished picking apples at my grandma’s farm. Then we rode piebald ponies! Life is good.”
Pecan brownies? Piebald ponies? I kept quiet about how cynical and nasty Facebook made me feel. Then last week, I read an article in New York magazine titled I Really Like That You Like What I Like.
The author’s notion is that Facebook and other sites are too nicey-nicey. It says: “These days, life online has become friendly, well-mannered, oversweet. Everyone is on his or her very best behaviour … We are endlessly flattering one another, too — sharing everything we do with everyone we know, and reflexively praising every autobiographical detail that comes over the transom to us.”
Bingo!
In my view, the worst thing is Facebook’s “like” button. It appears beside every Facebook entry. By clicking, we show how much we like stuff. Significantly, there is no “dislike” button, as that would be too negative.
And so, when people post Instagram photos of their restaurant meals, we press “like.” Yes, I like that steak or turnip casserole. I can imagine, in a few minutes, that you will eat it. Of this I approve, also.
That photo of your homely nephew? I like that too! True, he is not conventionally attractive, but I’ll keep that sentiment to myself, in the name of Facebook niceness.
Folk on Facebook like to parade their awards and achievements. Human nature, I guess. Then we obediently “like” these posts, to be supportive. “So proud to be awarded best crossing guard in South Oak Bay!” Oh, yes, I like that. Good effort. Really.
There’s plenty of inspirational/motivational quotes, although these (happily) seem to be on the wane. Stuff like, “All our dreams can come true — if we have the courage to pursue them.” — Walt Disney. Or “You miss 100 per cent of the shots you don’t take.” — Wayne Gretzky. If Wayne really said that in a locker room, I bet his teammates would pummel him en masse while chanting: “Death to Captain Obvious!”
I recently made a Facebook post regarding inspirational quotes, vowing to write “gag” after each one. That’s right. No “like” button. Gag.
This didn’t go over particularly well.
Admittedly, I’m not above participating in the silliness. Far from it. I regularly post images of paintings with the tag, “Art of the Day.” I imagine this adds brightness to everyone’s morning. It gives me a mild thrill when people “like” my Art of the Day. They like my art choice. They really like it.
Yes, I know. Gag.
What I truly admire on Facebook is those who dare to say how their lives are really going. Which, quite often, is not very well at all.
A friend recently developed a large carbuncle on his neck. If you don’t know what a carbuncle is, look it up — it’s not very nice. Anyway, he’s been providing regular updates.
One is: “This carbuncle thing has really desensitized me to gross stuff. Every 12 hours I peel off the Band-Aid and the carbuncle has turned into something different. It’s like an Advent calendar on my neck.”
I love that. A slice of real life. And much more interesting than that photo of your cute cat, or that stupid Avett Brothers concert.