i bet that song is about me

I have have my very first ever guest post! Juan Baez III, my former class mate, former roommate, audio engineering, band fronting friend has written up his opinion on my current hiatus from Facebook, Twitter et al.

I Bet that Song is about Me:
Why quitting social media doesn’t work

Constantly connected, telling our “friends” our every move, repeatedly shouting at the internet masses with hopes of saying something witty enough to be RT’d, wondering what we could’ve said to get more likes, pageviews, @’s and medals; the world is a bit different now. Social media has changed the way we interact with one another, is it bad? No. It’s the future. It’s the Now…ture.

The economy sucks. People are breeding. You work harder to achieve things you want, and skip events because the cost is too high. You don’t go to that movie, you skip out on that bar outing, you say “maybe next time,” but you know the truth. Your actual friends strewn about the highway that is your busy life. But you’re still there, living, and so are your friends, just not together. We all crave attention, it’s why we’re driven to meet people in the first place, you listen to their stories in hopes that they’ll listen to yours. We are a vain species and we can’t all be monks. So instead of going outside, we hang out with people all day every day on them internets. Now we can have conversations that last days with people miles away, without spending our overpriced cell minutes and texts, by msg’ing on facebook. These close friends have your email address, do they use it? No. They msg you. From their bathroom.

“I thought this was supposed to convince me being on the net was a good thing.” Nope, this is supposed to convince you that being off the net is a bad thing. Now you’re out of the loop. Now you lose touch with people you care about. Now funny things throughout your day are replaced by boredom and snacking(?). And your need to be heard, to one-up another with witty one-liners, is still there. You just blurt it at whoever is near you, who will most likely have no idea what you’re talking about. But your friends would know, and they’d probably LTAO. Combine that with the fact that we no longer trust or give a damn about local media and you could be facing actual disaster. I don’t want to watch my local news team to know what’s going on, F*/! THOSE DUDES, THEY DON’T KNOW! The internet is a joyous place and we’re getting tied in more every day.

Do I need to know what all my friends are doing every moment? Do I need to have what used to be in print magazines shoved in my rss addled face? Do I really need to see a cat play a keyboard or a three wolf moon? Probably not, but your friends will do it all anyways, and if you ever actually physically hang out with them they’ll be dropping internet knowledge briquettes and you’ll be left standing there like an ignored spouse at a company party.

“So wait, what?” Exactly.

all is well that ends well

That is, if it actually ends well.

A couple days ago I spelled out my devotion to the metal band Living Sacrifice and lamented over my inability to go see them play on their reunion tour. Alas, things have worked out. It turns out I was initially using bad info, thinking the show started a lot earlier than it actually does. With the new found knowledge of the actual start time, it’s fairly feasible that I’ll be able to hit the wedding on Saturday evening, and then take off for the hour and a half drive and still get there in time to see Oh, Sleeper (!!!) and Living Sacrifice. But to top it all off, Rob, my bestest friend forever is going to be able to come with me! So this went from depressing tragedy to awesome opportunity. Even better is the 3 hours we’ll spend in the car together giving us plenty of time to catch up on all the catching up we need to catch up on. I suddenly wanna eat a hotdog. Weird.

meow says the kitty

just to show that i’m not completely self absorbed, a post about my roommate, Juan:

I’ve been living with Juan for nearly 5 months now, after having met him at fullsail. when we first started our little adventure, he said to me, “i’ll like…pet your cats occasionally and stuff…but, like…i’m not gonna pay for cat food or anything.” what he was trying to say is that, just because the cats are in his apartment, he doesn’t want me to assume he has to do anything about them. this is all well and good, it’s not like i’d expect my roommate to pay me some sort of cat rent, like i’m some sort of cat pimp and they are my little petting prostitutes. but it’s funny to watch him now, lovin’ on my cats. he tends to feed them more than i do, because he gets up earlier than i do, and taylor is pretty much un- ignorable in the mornings.

but i must say that this humourous evolution came to it’s peak when juan and i were watching “the shield” (best show ever) and in the end (*spoiler alert*) the character “Dutch” strangles a cat (don’t ask why, you’d have to watch the show). The funny thing was, as the charcater approached the cat, juan made a little joke about snapping the cats neck…(once again, makes sense if you saw the show), but when the character picked up the cat and actually strangled it, juan paused and stated “that’s messed up.” it’s always fun to watch a tough guy get soft.