My mother has this thing where she is absolutely terrified of all types of social networking. She has this theory that you'll accidentally blab about something horrible, like the time you open hand slapped a rabid midget or something. (Which would be horrible because of how un-PC the term is. They would rather be called frothing, sanity-challenged little people.)
Whereas I do believe that her real concern is that people will use the computer to cast a web of crazy Caribbean voodoo magic on her, she has a point. What is this need we have for slathering others with bits of information about ourselves or the mundane nuances of our daily lives. Is superhighway the place to showcase all of our foibles and shortcomings? Is this the place to use our powers of passive aggression to call out our associates? We obviously want someone to read something or we'd whisk ourselves away to our beds where we'd hide under our blankets with our flashlights and be scribbling away with our pilot precise rolling ball V5 extra fine pens...lamenting the lack of attention from this person or that person and we would keep these musing to ourselves because we wouldn't want anyone to find these pages and believe them to be desperate cries for attention. But alas...this is not the case. Thank you Twitter, Facebook, Blooger, Blogspot, and Myspace. Thank you for giving us a place to hang what was, at one time, our unmentionables.
"Q"
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