To Block or Not to Block...THAT is the Question

Peter wants to share his Perfect Bunches of Lilies with you!

Do you, Peter?? Do you really???

I know that I'm bringing it on myself, to certain degree (I can, after all, take responsibility for my own actions...sometimes,) but I am wavering on "unfriending" you on Facebook. You've taken it upon yourself to habitually invite me to every inane, online application, event and fan group possible. No, I don't care which new flower you've planted in Farmville, who's joined your gang in Mob Wars or which pseudo-celebrity has your panties in a bunch. Are you really that bored (and lazy) that you spend your time on the computer harvesting imaginary plots of land, recruiting fictional goodfellas or trying to get me to be VP of the national, Carrot Top fan club??

STOP SENDING THIS CRAP TO ME BEFORE I BLOCK YO ASS!!

I realize that Facebook has evolved into a juggernaut of an infinitely-scalable, social networking platform, but at some point enough is enough. Practice a little restraint, Peter! I know that you (and other Facebookers) legitimately have interesting events going on (and for that reason, I don't block invites outright) but I'm fairly sure that you, along with many of my other friends (and I use that term loosely as we are talking about Facebook, here) aren't so bubbling over with altruism that you just need, ABSOLUTELY NEED, to share your fantastic, daily adventures with me. What I suspect is that you (and your itchy, trigger-fingered, e-viting cohorts) really don't have much going on in "reality" (completely justifiable air quotes, btw) and try to make up the difference with a booked-up, virtual social calendar instead...I'm not fooled.

How Do I Loathe Thee, Let Me Count the Ways

I find it absurdly ironic that I, at once, detest most of the writing I have been seeing as of late from others, but absolutely love, love, love to read. Let me qualify this: I've been reading a number of blogs, witticisms and posts, and find the majority of them vapid; only feigning at truly being clever. With biting one-liners and provocative allusury, these ever-increasing writers (and I wholly recognize my inclusion amongst them) comment on everything from Parisian fashion to Paris Hilton. Fashion writers, travel bloggers, relationship experts, sports fanatics...The litany of nouveau authors is seemingly endless, and with the advent or evolution (or really, de-evolution) of modern writing and texting vocabulary, everyone thinks they have a voice worth hearing...and therein lies the caveate...WORTH...HEARING. I know that writing is re-writing and this vocation is a craft, but I sincerely hope that either the standard of writing or those who chose to write get a kick in the (talent) pants sometime soon...p.s. I'm not holding my breath.

I'm Beginning to Hate Facebook

I really am...with a passion. Unfortunately, I'm addicted to it, and I guess like all addictions, the very same thing that you love soon becomes an idol of loathing. What started out as a simple way to keep in contact with all of my friends has been bastardized into the very activity that I seek to avoid in everyday life. Mainly, a sense of responsibility to remain in contact with people whom I don't wish to know, and an unhealthy preoccupation with the affairs of others. This age of electronic addiction, and constant "connectedness" in a disconnected culture is at once comfortable and completely unsettling. As I spend an inordinate amount of time on Facebook, texting or emailing, I am deeply saddened that instead of feeling more and more a part of the real world, I feel surprisingly more and more removed from it. I also, consequently, find it vaguely ironic that I am even spending the time writing this blog. Nobody reads these things anyway. Except you...loser. :p