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I don't know why I felt compelled to do this but now that it is done I feel a strange peace.
Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Visualizing Facebook Relationships
I don't know why I felt compelled to do this but now that it is done I feel a strange peace.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
In Defense of Geeks (Again)
I went to see the fabulous movie The Social Network last Sunday night. I saw the film in Canada (which I like to believe is bedbug free) with a group of 4 friends and our reviews were all positive -- go see the film, it’s great. But after the movie reviews were over a quintessential question emerged: Is Mark Zuckerberg a jerk?
Before we begin the debate: a brief disclaimer: This is not an essay about Mark Zuckerberg the person because I’ve never met him. This is an essay about Mark Zuckerberg the movie character because that dude sat in the back row of my Analysis of Algorithms class, I’ve been on scads of awkward first dates with him, and some days... he is me.
He is not, apparently, my friends (all of whom found him repulsive and annoying). I was shocked because I thought I had mostly self selected a group of super nerds to hang out with. They all work in software, all save one are active Settlers of Catan players. And yet -- Mark haters all of them. It seems that, despite their own geek cred, each had been burned by the surly geek before and was ready to banish him from their lives. As I pondered how my friends were not like me it slowly became clear that back in 1993 I was the only true nerd of the group. All of them had dates for prom, one was a cheerleader, even the most nerd-core among the bunch had to admit that she was a bit of a campus queen in high school. There is no chance that any of these people would have talked to me in 9th grade. For my friends, and for everyone out there who thinks Mark Zuckerberg is a huge asshole, welcome to another edition of what is basically an ongoing series on this blog defending the geeks of the world.
When you’re a smart eight year old and everyone is mean to you at soccer practice your dad will tell you to forget about those kids because you’re so much smarter then them. One day, they’ll see. If you’re anything like me this little grain of pride and spite can sustain you through being pants-ed in the cafeteria, cystic acne, and a Homecoming dance where all of your friends refused to hang out with you because you arrived dateless. But even for the most patient geek waiting for fate to deliver on the “I’ll Show Them!” promise can be tedious.
Enter the young Zuckerberg. He’s annoying. He’s awkward. He’s bitter. But this nerd is not messing around waiting for fate to prove his tormentors wrong. He’s making things happen. He’s doing the geek equivalent of kicking ass and taking names. Mark Zuckerberg is the Terminator of computer hacking and the Robocop of staying up all night drinking Jolt Cola and laying down punishing lines of C++. Action heroes have never spoken to me but I think what I felt while watching The Social Network was the same catharsis that others find in exploding cars and sniper fire. The good guys were winning and they had no shame.
Yes, Mark is kind of a jerk. We never see a young Zuckerberg in 7th grade getting tossed into a locker but I don’t think it’s overly presumptuous to assume that taking his share of noogies and wedgies is at least partially responsible for his persistent attitude problem. I also don’t need to see him lying on a shrink’s couch to accept the implied Asperger’s Syndrome diagnosis. I’m not at all surprised that the smart kid was tormented to the point of feeling a need to prove his self worth. I’m glad his weapon of choice was lines of code and not a gun. Despite his abrasive exterior I can’t bring myself to dislike Mark in the role of rags to riches geek superhero.
(Incidentally while I can’t bring myself to hate Zuckerberg I can almost bring myself to hate Sean Parker. But not totally, because even if he is the jerk that the movie makes him out to be he’s still a smart jerk and he’s still right -- he brought down the (evil) record industry. He also won by somehow convincing studio heads to cast Justin Timberlake to play him despite the fact that no one has ever accused Parker of bringing sexy back, not even a nerd fetishist like myself.)
Can anyone really blame a guy for screwing the Winklevie of the world? They’re not only good looking, popular and arrogant but they’re rich! Isn’t screwing them every geek’s dream? It has certainly been mine. There are a lot of stupid jerks in positions of power many of whom have prospered by hiding their idiocy and mean-spirtedness behind toothy grins and firm handshakes. As a former geek who somehow managed to (mostly?) grow out of her awkward stage I wouldn’t mind cutting some slack to the smart jerks (especially the smart jerks with a genetic disorder that at least partially accounts for their jerkiness).
The other day I received the following blog comment (on this post): “You are an idiot and your blog is sooo boring and shows you are not so smart but think you are because you like computers and ironic t-shirts.” It’s true. I think I’m so smart. And sometimes I think this excuses me from being a jerk. Just like Mark Zuckerberg seems to think that being smart and successful somehow excuses him from being a complete asshole to his friend Eduardo. Obviously, we’re both wrong. I think the most revealing scene in The Social Network is when Eduardo’s lawyer tries to make a point about the $18,000 plus an additional $1000 that Eduardo had invested in The Facebook after which Mark makes a huge todo out of checking this simple math. Mark can only see the lawyer as a tormentor and his only tool for dealing with a tormentor is to make a show of just how smart he is and how stupid she is. The scene is funny because for a moment it feels like this is another instance of the geeks winning. The scene is sad because Mark can’t hold back his flippant response even if it means further distancing himself from his only friend.
There are a lot of reason why I didn’t grow up to be Mark Zuckerberg. Firstly, I’m not smart enough. Most importantly I don’t have Asperger’s Syndrome. And I’m also not 19 years old anymore, neither is Mark. Perhaps we were both huge jerks at the end of adolescence but hopefully adulthood will let us set aside our bitterness and find sympathy for our tormentors (both real and perceived). Hopefully, as adults, we’ll overcome the disorder or personality trait that keeps us from expressing gratitude and love. After all, we won. We have cool jobs, we go on fabulous trips, we can do lots of complicated math problems. Hopefully we’re both much happier than we were freshman year of college.There’s not much to be gained by being a sore winner.
Before we begin the debate: a brief disclaimer: This is not an essay about Mark Zuckerberg the person because I’ve never met him. This is an essay about Mark Zuckerberg the movie character because that dude sat in the back row of my Analysis of Algorithms class, I’ve been on scads of awkward first dates with him, and some days... he is me.
He is not, apparently, my friends (all of whom found him repulsive and annoying). I was shocked because I thought I had mostly self selected a group of super nerds to hang out with. They all work in software, all save one are active Settlers of Catan players. And yet -- Mark haters all of them. It seems that, despite their own geek cred, each had been burned by the surly geek before and was ready to banish him from their lives. As I pondered how my friends were not like me it slowly became clear that back in 1993 I was the only true nerd of the group. All of them had dates for prom, one was a cheerleader, even the most nerd-core among the bunch had to admit that she was a bit of a campus queen in high school. There is no chance that any of these people would have talked to me in 9th grade. For my friends, and for everyone out there who thinks Mark Zuckerberg is a huge asshole, welcome to another edition of what is basically an ongoing series on this blog defending the geeks of the world.
When you’re a smart eight year old and everyone is mean to you at soccer practice your dad will tell you to forget about those kids because you’re so much smarter then them. One day, they’ll see. If you’re anything like me this little grain of pride and spite can sustain you through being pants-ed in the cafeteria, cystic acne, and a Homecoming dance where all of your friends refused to hang out with you because you arrived dateless. But even for the most patient geek waiting for fate to deliver on the “I’ll Show Them!” promise can be tedious.
Enter the young Zuckerberg. He’s annoying. He’s awkward. He’s bitter. But this nerd is not messing around waiting for fate to prove his tormentors wrong. He’s making things happen. He’s doing the geek equivalent of kicking ass and taking names. Mark Zuckerberg is the Terminator of computer hacking and the Robocop of staying up all night drinking Jolt Cola and laying down punishing lines of C++. Action heroes have never spoken to me but I think what I felt while watching The Social Network was the same catharsis that others find in exploding cars and sniper fire. The good guys were winning and they had no shame.
Yes, Mark is kind of a jerk. We never see a young Zuckerberg in 7th grade getting tossed into a locker but I don’t think it’s overly presumptuous to assume that taking his share of noogies and wedgies is at least partially responsible for his persistent attitude problem. I also don’t need to see him lying on a shrink’s couch to accept the implied Asperger’s Syndrome diagnosis. I’m not at all surprised that the smart kid was tormented to the point of feeling a need to prove his self worth. I’m glad his weapon of choice was lines of code and not a gun. Despite his abrasive exterior I can’t bring myself to dislike Mark in the role of rags to riches geek superhero.
(Incidentally while I can’t bring myself to hate Zuckerberg I can almost bring myself to hate Sean Parker. But not totally, because even if he is the jerk that the movie makes him out to be he’s still a smart jerk and he’s still right -- he brought down the (evil) record industry. He also won by somehow convincing studio heads to cast Justin Timberlake to play him despite the fact that no one has ever accused Parker of bringing sexy back, not even a nerd fetishist like myself.)
Can anyone really blame a guy for screwing the Winklevie of the world? They’re not only good looking, popular and arrogant but they’re rich! Isn’t screwing them every geek’s dream? It has certainly been mine. There are a lot of stupid jerks in positions of power many of whom have prospered by hiding their idiocy and mean-spirtedness behind toothy grins and firm handshakes. As a former geek who somehow managed to (mostly?) grow out of her awkward stage I wouldn’t mind cutting some slack to the smart jerks (especially the smart jerks with a genetic disorder that at least partially accounts for their jerkiness).
The other day I received the following blog comment (on this post): “You are an idiot and your blog is sooo boring and shows you are not so smart but think you are because you like computers and ironic t-shirts.” It’s true. I think I’m so smart. And sometimes I think this excuses me from being a jerk. Just like Mark Zuckerberg seems to think that being smart and successful somehow excuses him from being a complete asshole to his friend Eduardo. Obviously, we’re both wrong. I think the most revealing scene in The Social Network is when Eduardo’s lawyer tries to make a point about the $18,000 plus an additional $1000 that Eduardo had invested in The Facebook after which Mark makes a huge todo out of checking this simple math. Mark can only see the lawyer as a tormentor and his only tool for dealing with a tormentor is to make a show of just how smart he is and how stupid she is. The scene is funny because for a moment it feels like this is another instance of the geeks winning. The scene is sad because Mark can’t hold back his flippant response even if it means further distancing himself from his only friend.
There are a lot of reason why I didn’t grow up to be Mark Zuckerberg. Firstly, I’m not smart enough. Most importantly I don’t have Asperger’s Syndrome. And I’m also not 19 years old anymore, neither is Mark. Perhaps we were both huge jerks at the end of adolescence but hopefully adulthood will let us set aside our bitterness and find sympathy for our tormentors (both real and perceived). Hopefully, as adults, we’ll overcome the disorder or personality trait that keeps us from expressing gratitude and love. After all, we won. We have cool jobs, we go on fabulous trips, we can do lots of complicated math problems. Hopefully we’re both much happier than we were freshman year of college.There’s not much to be gained by being a sore winner.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Good Morning Welcome to Pornbook!
So This Morning on Facebook (capitalized because obviously "This Morning on Facebook" is the "Days of our Lives" of my generation... "Like the unidentifiable crap that builds up on the bottom of your mouse it's time for This Morning on Facebook") I see that a girl I know from high school has commented on the picture of another girl from high school who I sort of know (because my high school was tiny) but not really. Girl #2 is not my friend on Facebook but her picture is now visible to me and (nosy Nellie that I totally am, especially when it comes to random people from high school) I click on it and it is TOTALLY a stripper picture. Like not just a little risque "hey look how sexy I am! Suck it former high school classmates!" (though she is in fact fairly sexy -- what I wouldn't give for those abs (actually -- exactly what I wouldn't give for those abs is more than 100 sit ups a week)) or a sexy little number to tempt single dudes in your area to buy you a drink sometime (both of which are totally something I would (nay, have) post) but a, "lying on a mirrored table in a g-string and a bra with rainbow kneehighs and green patent platform heels and one knee bent up so she can grab the 4 inch heel of the platform while looking at the camera all 'someone better be giving me some cold hard cash for holding this pose.'" So then obviously I browse the entire album which is entitled "Bored, I Guess" as in "hmm my stupid friends bailed on me and no one wants to go see "Monsters vs. Aliens" alone! How shall I entertain myself... oh lookie here, a florescent yellow peekaboo bra and a camera and whoops! I lost my panties!" Happens all of the time. It probably goes without saying that this girl's dad was the guidance counselor at our highschool. And that she has since removed all of the vowels from her name so that what once was a normal suburban monkier now sounds like the spawn of a Welshman and a pair of daisy dukes. I have less of an issue with the lack of underwear than I do with the blatant cliche-ness of this whole enterprise.
After a thorough perusing of the entire lurid album I woke G up to share -- cause he loves gossip almost as much as he loves boobies -- but shockingly he was having none of it. He rolled his eyes! He said I was being catty! He COMPARED ME TO HIS CHURCH OF CHRIST LOVING MOM! Despite what my boyfriend may now think, I really have little issue with the actual stripping (or the selling for dirty pictures which I have to assume is going on because if not then someone needs to talk to StFny (not her actual fake name) about the cow and the buying of the free milk). I would even go so far as to say I support strippers. I don't care if G wants to go ogle some boobies. I think that a lady should have every right to do with her body whatever she wants. If I had heard through the grapevine that this girl was now a stripper I would have surely giggled and called all of my highschool friends to gossip and I would have felt superior and a little bitchy BUT I also would have thought "ok well good for her, I hope she pulls in $1000/night in tips from dirty old bastards." and that would be it. But I didn't hear this through the grapevine. Someone didn't stumble upon her risque profession in a dark back alley and then cuelly out her to the world -- she posted pictures of herself on Facebook! Pictures with her panties around her ankles! So now I have to blog about it -- I may look like a bitch here (and a jealous one at that -- see note above re:abs) but my hand was forced.
After a thorough perusing of the entire lurid album I woke G up to share -- cause he loves gossip almost as much as he loves boobies -- but shockingly he was having none of it. He rolled his eyes! He said I was being catty! He COMPARED ME TO HIS CHURCH OF CHRIST LOVING MOM! Despite what my boyfriend may now think, I really have little issue with the actual stripping (or the selling for dirty pictures which I have to assume is going on because if not then someone needs to talk to StFny (not her actual fake name) about the cow and the buying of the free milk). I would even go so far as to say I support strippers. I don't care if G wants to go ogle some boobies. I think that a lady should have every right to do with her body whatever she wants. If I had heard through the grapevine that this girl was now a stripper I would have surely giggled and called all of my highschool friends to gossip and I would have felt superior and a little bitchy BUT I also would have thought "ok well good for her, I hope she pulls in $1000/night in tips from dirty old bastards." and that would be it. But I didn't hear this through the grapevine. Someone didn't stumble upon her risque profession in a dark back alley and then cuelly out her to the world -- she posted pictures of herself on Facebook! Pictures with her panties around her ankles! So now I have to blog about it -- I may look like a bitch here (and a jealous one at that -- see note above re:abs) but my hand was forced.
Monday, December 01, 2008
Winner Parade Entry 5: Fight! Fight! Fight!
After some initial eye rolling I have come to love Facebook -- this is mostly due to the iphone application which allows me to while away the minutes I spend waiting for late trains stalking my friends. The great thing to hate about facebook is not how easy it makes for other to stalk me since I generally encourage all citizens of the internet to embrace the fascinating reality that is Brianna but how difficult it is to avoid people whose 5 times a day updates on their latest crush, sandwich topping or bowel movement has you threatening to swear off the internet all together. So I am coy when it comes to approving friend requests because I hate being left with a news feed full of minutia about people I didn't like in person, much less in digital. I am also coy when it comes to hitting "Ignore" because I am a huge wimp who hates to digitally offend people even when they're people I don't much care for. However there are some for whom ignoring is all too sweet.
I received a friend request this morning from someone I was hoping I did not know. In his profile picture he is wearing a prison uniform. I am going to give him the benefit of the doubt that this is a Halloween costume and not his mandated wardrobe. His chosen hair style seems a bit harder to explain away. His head is shaved and the part of it that is not disfigured with an unsightly mole (one imagines he was surprised to pull the razor away and find that little genetic gift) is covered with a huge (likely fake) tribal tattoo. I have to admit that were any of my friends to go the extra Halloween mile and pull out the Bic I would think they were awesome. But the difference between all of my friends and this guy is that my friends actually are awesome.
Sadly, I do know this boy -- much more intimately than I care to admit. Be glad I sometimes think of this blog as a confessional. This is a boy I once had the mental retardation to agree to making out with during my senior year of college. This is probably the single most embarrassing hook up in a somewhat lengthy 800 car pile-up of bad dating decisions. I met him at a Frat party (I know.). Obviously I was drunk-ish. Later that night, in a the most poorly executed attempt to get in my pants ever, he told me how he and his brothers were really into "fighting." Not boxing or even "ultimate fighting" which might even be a real sport but just, "fighting". This was listed as a sort of hobby like "ya, my bros and I like to get together on Sundays for a rowdy game of monopoly followed by baking bread and gossiping all night!" Except with fewer descriptive words, "I like to fight." At this point I knew two things 1. I would have to devote the rest of the year to avoiding eye contact in the lunch line and 2. We better do some more kissing before he starts jabbering again and makes things even worse. Luckily, this young man seemed to sense that we just weren't made for each other ("Yeah, I met this girl last night, she mentioned that she likes to eat ice cream. Like that's hobby! I told her to check out fighting. Anyway, total loser.") until one night at least 2 months later when he called me at 3am to see if I wanted to "hang out." I'm not sure why one would even bother with a euphemism for "get it on" during such an obvious booty call -- unless he was actually calling looking for some hard core fightin' action. Either way I giggled and hung up.
While its tempting to approve his friend request in hopes of receiving hilarious status updates about fighting ("Kick to the groin! I am HE MAN!!!") I cannot risk this dude tracking me down for kissing. Or fighting, "Ignore."
I received a friend request this morning from someone I was hoping I did not know. In his profile picture he is wearing a prison uniform. I am going to give him the benefit of the doubt that this is a Halloween costume and not his mandated wardrobe. His chosen hair style seems a bit harder to explain away. His head is shaved and the part of it that is not disfigured with an unsightly mole (one imagines he was surprised to pull the razor away and find that little genetic gift) is covered with a huge (likely fake) tribal tattoo. I have to admit that were any of my friends to go the extra Halloween mile and pull out the Bic I would think they were awesome. But the difference between all of my friends and this guy is that my friends actually are awesome.
Sadly, I do know this boy -- much more intimately than I care to admit. Be glad I sometimes think of this blog as a confessional. This is a boy I once had the mental retardation to agree to making out with during my senior year of college. This is probably the single most embarrassing hook up in a somewhat lengthy 800 car pile-up of bad dating decisions. I met him at a Frat party (I know.). Obviously I was drunk-ish. Later that night, in a the most poorly executed attempt to get in my pants ever, he told me how he and his brothers were really into "fighting." Not boxing or even "ultimate fighting" which might even be a real sport but just, "fighting". This was listed as a sort of hobby like "ya, my bros and I like to get together on Sundays for a rowdy game of monopoly followed by baking bread and gossiping all night!" Except with fewer descriptive words, "I like to fight." At this point I knew two things 1. I would have to devote the rest of the year to avoiding eye contact in the lunch line and 2. We better do some more kissing before he starts jabbering again and makes things even worse. Luckily, this young man seemed to sense that we just weren't made for each other ("Yeah, I met this girl last night, she mentioned that she likes to eat ice cream. Like that's hobby! I told her to check out fighting. Anyway, total loser.") until one night at least 2 months later when he called me at 3am to see if I wanted to "hang out." I'm not sure why one would even bother with a euphemism for "get it on" during such an obvious booty call -- unless he was actually calling looking for some hard core fightin' action. Either way I giggled and hung up.
While its tempting to approve his friend request in hopes of receiving hilarious status updates about fighting ("Kick to the groin! I am HE MAN!!!") I cannot risk this dude tracking me down for kissing. Or fighting, "Ignore."
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Welcome to Facebook
I finally joined Facebook. I had refused to join an additional social networking site mostly out of fear that it will provide yet another path for my high school peers to hunt me down and pretend that even though we hardly ever spoke while actually in high school we are now BFFs. Luckily there appears to be only 5 members of my high school class on Facebook as opposed to MySpace which is crawling with those people. Perhaps this is the main reason people migrate to new social networking sites – to avoid the people they don’t really like on the old social networking sites.
I registered on Monday (mostly because I saw blog hits coming from Facebook and because I am a slave to my stats I obviously had to investigate). It took roughly 5 hours for all of my (notably younger) cousins to track me down and tag me as their friend – I took this as a sign that I am not yet an embarrassment to the younger generation. Don’t worry kids, I’m sure I’ll do something fuddy-duddy very soon. Sadly you’ll still have to pretend you like me because otherwise your parents will ground you.
I know that Facebook is cutting edge because as I type this MS Word recognizes the word MySpace but still thinks Facebook is misspelled. Facebook gains a lot of cool points with hipsters this way (one assumes Apple is hip to the Facebook craze). Here’s hoping some of the cool rubs off on me. If nothing else at least society has finally invented a technology that frees us all from the scourge of untalented 15 year olds with bad taste being allowed to design their own web page. Here's to a future with no falling glitter.
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