Big Bother Is Watching

I keep thinking what'll happen with Facebook and/or Twitter, what it means for us. I know a few people who aren't on these social networking sites, but most people I know are. There is an insidious virtual fishbowl kind of thing in place with it, where people know what you're doing (at least if you tell them) and you know what they're up to. What's more, not posting anything for awhile often has people wondering where you are, what happened. The global village in place, akin to walking down the street of a small town and having the locals look you over. I remember that happening to me in SW Ohio, on a long bike ride. I rode into this three-street town (First Street, Main Street, and Church Street), and everybody in the town stopped what they were doing and watched me bike on by. It was creepy. Sometimes the Net today feels like that. It's preventable, of course -- you can just unplug and disappear, but the voyeuristic and exhibitionistic quality of the medium is enticing. It's like a primate trap -- like at a musuem, the surest way to get people to look at something is to put it under a little door you have to open, because the ape in us is just dying to know what's behind that little door. They've tested that on apes, and on us, and it works. The FB is like that, in so many ways. "What are you up to? What are you doing?" The Surveillance Society, except a home-grown, local type.

I wonder what'll happen when people move on from FB. Where will they go? In the old days, we had three television networks, and broadcasting was truly broad -- there was a shared cultural tapestry we drew from. Cable changed that forever, and narrowcasting became the norm. In a way, FB (and, to a lesser extent, Twitter) operates like that -- it is the broadcast medium of the Net. But, sooner or later, the "audience" will migrate to something else, one way or another, and then everybody won't be on the same (web)page, anymore. Will it be to something even more potentially intrusive? I don't know. We'll see, I guess.

Yawn Pong and the Snowstorm

I was stuck playing Yawn Pong on a crowded bus last night after work. Even writing the word "yawn" makes me yawn (yawn). I am the most yawn-susceptible person out there (yawn). Anyway, this gal across from me kept yawning, and I kept seeing that (yawn), even out of the corner of my eye, and it would make me yawn (yawn). And she'd see me yawn and would try to fight it, and then she'd yawn, too. Back and forth, down the Mag Mile -- Yawn Pong. See? I just yawned again! Damn. Anyway, it was a slow ride downtown, so the Yawn Pong match was like 120 to 115 by the time I got off the bus. Not really, but it (yawn) sure felt like that.

Moving on, for the sake of (yawn) sanity: we're getting another snowstorm. Yippee! It's really coming down. Supposedly we're due for 6-14 inches, or that's what they're saying. I'll have to take the boys out sledding after work. I'm sure they'll love that. It's really coming down something fierce. I need to find my boots. I am wearing sneakers today. Whoopsie!