This phenomenom of “social networking” websites certainly seems a lot odder when described by the mainstream media. To me and my friends, sites like Friendster and MySpace are harmlessly kooky ways to keep in touch and embarass each other with sarcastic tributary testimonials. They sound a lot more sinister when described by the AP in this wire story on a rash of statutory rape cases in Connecticut:
MySpace, one of several popular social networking sites, is a free service that allows people to create Web sites that can be personalized with information, pictures and movies. Searching for someone is as easy as typing the name of a high school and the photographic results are instantaneous.
…
Some teens keep their personal profiles scant, aimed only at their friends. Others describe their likes and dislikes, from the mundane to the profane, and encourage people to send them messages.
“That is a perpetrator’s dream come true,” said Middletown Police Sgt. Bill McKenna.
Worse is the news that Massachusetts’ recent gay bar murderer left behind a personal MySpace profile, as did the ex-girlfriend that he murdered. Both profiles, as of this writing, live on beyond the expiration of their authors. Hers more sympathetic for her role as victim, her vain attempts to disguise advanced age, a blog posting sarcastically titled “oh..yes…plz stalk me, i love it” (someone – perhaps the murderer – was attempting to log in and steal her identity) and the worried comment written by a friend (after she was already killed) saying simply “i love you Jenn! I miss you a lot. I hope everything will be okay =/. I love you.”
My friend, Alan Amalgamated, jokes (half-jokes, really) that when fascism finally comes to America, they won’t have to torture us to get us to name names. We’ve already done that, voluntarily, on MySpace. As it is, my coworkers use MySpace to research members of the bargaining unit during organizing drives and journalists, it seems, search for the names of criminal newsmakers there before going to press.
I really don’t like MySpace. I prefer Friendster, because it’s a simpler, cleaner way to maintain a collection of profiles of friends I rarely see, and the testimonials are more thought-out and composed for posterity. It’s silly, but it’s a silliness that I control and limit.
MySpace – pawn of Rupert Murdoch – is superficial, voyeuristic, utterly commercial and totally juvenile. It aims to be a totality of interweb activity: exhibitionist instant messaging, blogarhea, rate my photo whoredom, music and video filesharing – you name it. It’s your life, youngster, complete with corporate sponsorship. For Gahd’s sake. Get the hell out, before it’s too late!
