Killing the Facebook - A Welcome Disconnection

On Thursday night, I made a pre-meditated, well-planned and spontaneous decision to deactivate my Facebook. Ignoring it wasn't enough. I wanted it dead.

When one decides to shut down Facebook, the cybernetic entity controlling its blue and white projection tries to guilt you into staying. It feebly attempts to convince you its privacy violations are ingenuous, the premise behind it is half-way useful and even resorts to emotional blackmail, insistent that certain real life friends will miss your cyberpresence. Despite the electronic pleading and bureaucracy it entangles you in (are you really, truly sure? Enter your Tax File Number and mother's father's aunt's maiden name to continue.) I pulled the plug.

Let me tell you, what a relief.

The last year and a half, I've experienced overwhelming, world-view shifting changes. Some are physical - I feel stronger and fitter. Others are mental - I know more that I did last year. A lot of them are intangible, yet bound up with my very being. Facebook does a disservice to our being. It labels it, it regulates it and alters our perception of it. It's not a window into our being. It's a map of it that's barely accurate at the best of times.

Prior to the advent of social media and my own return from the brink of oblivion, I almost wished I could use some kind of benign platform to convince myself that my friends were routinely ignoring me or were acting like sinister villains behind my back. My mind with paranoia's snakes coiled tight around it was convinced - convinced! - that these smiles masked a cruel intent.

Maybe they did. More rationally and overall, likely, they most probably didn't. Sure, by the time I'd reached the end of my tether with this colloquial monstrosity, I'd noticed a pattern had emerged when I'd made a post. Only about 10 or 15 "friends" seemed even remotely interested in what I'd had to say. Sure, I'd made some new contacts along the way but I'd also made some "indifferents." I was "hidden" from view by everyone else - or so it seemed.

But then I figured that my fatigue with Facebook stemmed from viewing an overabundance of useless and intellectually void information about people I barely knew. Yet, the otherness lay in myself: I made little to no effort to get to know the people - the real people behind the "book" obscuring their "faces" - and at that instant, there was clarity as I emerged from beyond the murk: I was out of integrity with my use of Facebook. It was all bullshit, man.

The last year I've made many lasting friendships. Brotherhoods indissoluble, loves everlasting. But they weren't made over Facebook. They were forged as sunlight beat down on our faces, as tears streaked down our cheeks, as frost billowed through the cadence of our breaths. Friends are made and re-made over cheap meals and cheaper laughs in second-rate cafes. Facebook, the great concealer of real, open and visceral humanity didn't let seeds of camaraderie take root and flourish; it kept them in stasis until someone decided to let it expire.

So I got rid of it. I was bullshitting myself if I chose to keep my interactive dossier of half-truths up and running. I'm not even remotely concerned that it's a great "tool" for promoting my journalism work or services as a consultant. I get enough rejection e-mails from editors and managers in my good old fashioned email inbox, thank you very much.

My once enthusiastic adoration for Twitter has all but evaporated too. The only "social medium" (although that's a contestable term) I'm rather enjoying is Tumblr - it's like running one's own pop-culture museum. There's a certain joy in stealing from others' small collections and discoveries to curate in one's own permanent exhibition. It's superficial, that's a given. But it's artifice does not purport to foster "friendships" in the physical sense. Online community, yes. "A place for your friends," not so much.

Will I miss it? I'm not suffering from any measure of withdrawal. But like the aims of my (numerous) social media moratoriums, the payoff is in rising to challenge of relying on it no longer. If I want to know what's going on with my social circles, I'll have to talk to someone and engage in a real conversation to find out. If I'm forgotten by fair-weather friends, then so what? I know who my brothers and sisters are on this magnificent journey. I'll love and support them as long as I'm able. In kind, they will support me, too.

So I give praise to Facebook precisely as I bury it (with the cumulative personal information I've fed it over the years clutched firmly in its cold, dead hands.) You've opened my eyes to see where my real friends truly are.

Humanity to Man

In one respect man is the nearest thing to me, so far as I must do good to men and endure them. But so far as some men make themselves obstacles to my proper acts, man becomes to me one of the things which are indifferent, no less than the sun or wind or a wild beast. Now it is true that these may impede my action, but they are no impediments to my affects and disposition, which have the power of acting conditionally and changing: for the mind converts and changes every hindrance to its activity into an aid; and so that which is a hindrance is made a furtherance to an act; and that which is an obstacle on the road helps us on this road.

- Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 5.20

Over the past few days, I've seen the minds of others turn to anguish and despair due to the actions of significant others. In their estimation, the action of the other - dumping them, hurting them, acting out against them - signifies an attack on their character, that they are no longer worthy of others' acceptance or love. On the contrary, their lovability and capacity to accept such love has not diminished in any way or form; they more or less are as they were prior to these events transpiring.

So why the inevitable turn to self-loathing and victimization when these relationships fail, even if it is of no to little fault of their own? Where is the rule that dictates this rigorous mental self-flagellation must occur? It may stem from a false-to-fact belief that their significant other is the only arbiter of romantic love and care for them and that this love must be given at all times otherwise the world is cruel, spiteful and out to get them.

In reality, save for the few who have only had one relationship prior (and have little experience of breaking up, conflict, etc.) the granting of love and care is ultimately a choice that is entered into mutually with varying degrees of intensity across both (or even multiple) parties. Rationally, if the choice is not beneficial to either or both parties, then another choice can be made as to repair or discontinue the relationship. It is also a choice to further the relationship by exchanging gifts, taking holidays together, moving in and marrying etc. This choice may be "obvious" and seen not even as a choice at all despite the perceived undesirable yet still viable alternatives (staying in one's own house, for example) that are available to either party.

Like any human with human rationality and agency, the choices we make are our own responsibility. It would be unfair to blame another for the choices that we make, even if they are reached by consensus in a romantic (or even platonic) relationship. Just because you were chosen by another as significant does not mean they afford you special dispensation when this significance is later withdrawn for whatever reason. One must always take care of himself within or without a relationship - how could one have functioned prior to the relationship forming with this belief? It was never and never will be the responsibility of someone else to take care of a rational, functional, adult human being. It would be rational to remember that your significant other was once an indifferent; it is not inconceivable to think that one day they may return to that role once again.

Strategies for Unsanity

In my dreaming last night, I saw more literal signals than symbolic, i.e, conversations in their entirety without adulteration by my unconscious mind (which would have to be taken with a grain of suspicion anyhow!)

A friend of mine called me out of the blue - he wanted something from me and I figured as much since I had never received a social call from him before. We got to talking and he hit upon his recent feelings about being depressed. I had noticed after much self-reflection that his depression was not innate or a priori, but learned and reinforced throughout his life.

If we maintain that the Structural Differential holds true-to-fact, then language shapes thought and thus behavior. So at which point can we define the fundamental causes of undesirable or depressive feelings being generated? In my opinion, identification at the evaluation level and its confusion with the event level effects on our feelings with greatest impact.

My friend would say (i.e., utter and most likely subvocalize) that his pursuits both for his work and pleasure were nothing to be commended; that they were "adequate" at best. He would mostly downplay his achievements and enforce irrational restrictions on his well-being.

The maps he had internalized in the past now bear claim to appearing as "reality", using broad and vulgar terms. Despite his activities being "neutral", he identifies them as good or bad by holding them up to unattainable comparisons (i.e., his writings are not read by millions, therefore it is a failure or inherently bad) or believing them as so instead of evaluating them as they are in their environment, or liking/loving them unconditionally as an extension of himself. He continually struggles to feel happy by placing demands on the universe when realizing it is neither benign or malignant but indifferent to his needs.

If you wish to feel inadequate or worthless, I recommend you start or continue to do the following:

• Need rather than want, or have second-order needs: i.e, "I need my need for love."
• Misidentifying others' problems for your own.
• Reversing the order of abstraction by mistaking your evaluations of reality for reality itself.
• By thinking either too negatively or positively in absolute terms.
• By tying your well-being to external events and external evaluations (i.e., verbal praise)
• By using outdated maps (i.e., past situations) to navigate present territories.
• By merely hypothesizing and never testing situations to gain the facts.
• By thinking the universe owes you something for services rendered or intentions pure.
  

I do not claim to be a psychologist; I do however claim to be a student of General Semantics. By using the GS approach, much of his needless self-imposed suffering could be avoided and effectively remedied.

Melon Race Sketch #1

Our (Ace and I) first sketch is raring to go on YouTube. A rough draft of what's to come, surely. I learned how to use Adobe Premiere and everything.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1XUIuEkDYWk

Comment, rate and thoroughly rip to shreds!

You and he were...buddies, weren't you?

Watching Garth Marenghi's Darkplace, a timeless cult classic which I thought I had seen to absolute death still cracks me up after watching three times in a row (once with "directors'" commentary.)

I had a good time at the Darkplace party last night; partying 'til 6am felt good again (even if I did take a break during a showing of The Lost Boys.)

I really hope I get one of the jobs i've applied for soon; however K-Rudd doesn't really fill me with confidence. Although I will take his/our money, just for the record.

The Worst Kind

I met a man who could play a song on the piano after listening to only four or five bars last night. He just glanced up to get the feel of it and started playing. He was like a mini Mozart that liked his beer and his utes. Absolutely remarkable. I'm also feeling a bit bruised after some girl started laying into me with mean right hooks before giving me a perfunctory massage. I don't think she liked me very much. I tried to explain to Elyse, my cool American friend how Australians are compelled to live up to their stereotypes on Australia Day as a joke, but there's more truth in that statement than I originally realized. Deport me to UnAustralia if I prefer to fly the flag of rebellion instead.

Now to the oft-neglected realm of metal; why the hell would Ville Laihiala, lead singer of Sentenced form his own band, Poisonblack that sounds almost identical (with the addition of groovier guitars and atmospheric keys)? Oh! To convince his former band to break up so he could steal all the writing credits. Good move, Ville! It's hard for me to hate you because you do what you do so damn well.

Ascendancy Initiate

I went to a party last night: I ate pot cupcakes and tried to convince my satin-lunged and teetotaller mate who also ate said cupcakes was as bent, if not more bent than me. I feel such a hatred for games when I am bent; I appreciate the sublime ever more so and utterly loathe the ridiculous. Its a useful tool for that, I guess. I sort of feel like "Me Plus" in a way. Karen and Anita - I love you both forever for organizing the post-Party breakfast. I could not have asked for anything better.

Now I feel full of M&Ms, twenty-two years old and a million miles away from where I want to be.

To Elyse

You are sweet as.

- Tom

Whence and Wither Goes the Wind

I would like to offer my sincere condolences to the family and friends of Neal Anthony Kooistra, a.k.a Denzin, a fellow player of the game Cyber Nations. I had befriended him over the last few weeks and talked with him with some regularity; he will be sorely missed by the CN community at large. May he Rest In Peace.

Dept. of Music Acquisition and Detection

I supplicate before the internet and demand a reply: why was I not informed of Electric Six earlier?

(Thanks to Liz for that one.)

you can't ignore my techno

There's no sense in it

I see heads hunkered down, fingers dancing across keyboards and the stench of boredom strikes my nose...I must be at work.

However, I can regail my dear readers of tales of gross inanity - hanging out with geriatrics at a confusing bar in Clayton; implicit racism, submission, torment and fiery redheads at Cho Gao in the city; and my personal favorite, running my low-rent media empire while wearing my trackpants.

All fantastical stories which would require a savage censorship before I even contemplated putting finger to keyboard.

Oh, and now I've spilled my glass of water across my desk. The most exciting thing to have happened to me today.

Feckless, Witless and Chocolatey

Since my alma mater Harm.us (I remember writing for them in Year 11 of High School with a B average in English) is all but disintegrating from the inside out (it no longer works with the newer version of Firefox - in my view it's a write off.) I'll write my article on the watershed year for metal - 1994 - and how Kurt Cobain's legacy actually served to rejuvenate the metal scene despite the new wave of Alternative/grunge virtually decimating interest in the ailing genre just two years prior. I'll chronicle my progress right here at Crushtor.net in installments. I'll also be trying to contact the key players scene at the time as well as other journalists for their opinions, all the while shopping it around to various magazines to see if they'll hop on board my self-indulgent nostalgia trip and print out tickets for it (er...print it.)

The focus of the piece will center on six key albums that not only rode out to new frontiers but smashed old boundaries, breathing life into a moribund, directionless genre.

The names of the albums are:

Threshold - Psychedelicatessen
Cynic - Focus
Dream Theater - Awake
Edge of Sanity - Purgatory Afterglow
Tiamat - Wildhoney
Opeth - Orchid

As well as three albums on the cusp of this crucial period:

Paradise Lost - Icon (1993)
My Dying Bride - The Angel and the Dark River (1995)
Anathema - Eternity (1996)

See if you can guess the common elements they share! (Hint: they all broke the unwritten oaths of flirting with the "enemies...")

Thanks go to Jan for giving me the Dostoyevsky's "The Idiot" for my birthday, as well as Rae and Kris for "The Harvest" (a collection of literary Australian fiction) and "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen", Nat and Ash for the gift card. And thanks for all that braved the weather to attend the shindig too. Special mention goes to Shai for making a compendium of Achewood quotes in his inimitable literate and lyrical style. What's better than the awesomest thing in the world? An easily accessible Wiki in order to quote from it, of course! The man's an absolute genius - the extensional definition of a polymath if I ever saw one.

By the way; does anyone have a video camera that I could borrow?

Guardians and Monsters

Thanks to everyone who wished me a Happy Birthday today (especially Elyse, who deserves special mention for sending me international well-wishes.) I'm sitting like a Buddha as I write, stomach distended from too much food (I ate like it was my last meal today. Maccas breakfast, meat and potato lunch, lasagne dinner...I felt my body decaying too much to refuse the salad put in front of me) ... bring on the party this Saturday.

I am also absolutely sick to death of the promotion for Australia at the moment. I know what I'm technically doing is giving them more free marketing, but if there was ever an extensional definition for overkill, this campaign would be it.

Grant Us Grace

You know when you've taken something for granted when it's gone. When the flash of thought that signals you to reach for it has to be quelled in remembrance to that which you had. It seems so effortless, obvious when it's there but then it feels all askance when it's not. I upset a friend yesterday, one of the dearest ones I've ever had the privilege to know. Whether my intentions were merely an oversight or not has not changed the result - I've been shunned and condemned regardless.

Over 10 years of friendship buried by a flight of irrationality and an exchange of spite-filled words. Whether I deserve the treatment or not blurs my vision - being accused of being a bad friend when I've done nothing but support her through thick, thin and the gamut in-between hurts to say the least. Whether a nucleus of truth in what she tells me, what she informs me of what I've done (or not) looks to be present or not may indeed be the flash point for a once iron-clad friendship to unravel and burn. I can't help but think that my friend is crying for help, yet pushing me away at the same time. It's so very, very hard to tell. It's hard to live with. I can't beg for forgiveness forever.

Corruption or Reason

It felt like a day that reminded of me the worth of being alive. Going out for curry with Rae, Kris, Gemma and Ash (all of whom couldn't finish their plates...)
So, since we had to obey the Kirae house rules of no drinks after bedtime, Gem and I drove to one of the most opulent mansions I've ever been in. It had French Louis XIV style gilded mirrors, statues of cherubs lining ornate mantlepieces, grand pianos, four-poster beds and for some reason a really shithouse computer. (Rich people have more money than sense) After watching the unbelievably piss-funny hyper-observational humor of Carl Barron, we retired to a grandiose turkish-style bed, draped in huge, soft cushions. It was insane. But comfy as. Such a mint house...

Also, I finally purchased a copy of Science and Sanity after looking for it for so long. I plan to read it again over summer like last time and gain even more insight into GS and how to apply it.

For example:
Intensional definition: needs moar = construct additional pylons!
Extensional definition: needs moar = Open your NetBank. Look at the CR column. The gap between that amount and a car could be considered a definition of the above term.

To my American friends: I implore you to use the new word I created in lieu of "cockblocking." I now use the word "lunchcutsmanship" instead. (e.g. "That was a fine display of lunchcutsmanship")

Actual News

Well, the one event that's still on my lips after almost a week of it having occurred was winning $250 at my local pub trivia night. If you want to play a little Jeopardy, here's the answers: Althorpe Park, Najaf and Glandular Fever. Which lead me to my next not-so-debilitating dilemma - what to spend it on? Obviously it was going straight to the US and A fund, but a nice something to celebrate the chance of the win (as opposed to the "skill") was in order. Thanks to Shai, he alerted me that Readings, a local bookstore has hard-cover copies of my beloved Science and Sanity for sale at reasonable prices, unlike the tear-inducing exchange rate. (61AUc = $1USD, natch.) I have to go to work tomorrow. Isn't playing the work-for-money game just so damned fun?

Although, I do have to give credit to my tutor for shouting our class two rounds of tequila shots. That was awesome. Especially showing up half-pissed to the Buzz Birthday dinner. That was also cool. I guess last Thursday was just an all-round party for me...

Eventful

I had an eventful weekend that saw me interacting with human people. Here's a rundown:

1. Friday nite at Rae's - always fun. I watched the most insane anime I've ever seen. Half self-reflexive parody and half-"nonsense" style sitcom (think Stephen Chow) that features a rag-tag band of pint-sized yet supaa kawaii alien invaders attempt to take over the planet...when they're not running into mischief and making Gundam models. Kris' new computer was very, very drool worthy. Thanks to Dean for reminding me about the new Cynic album...it's brilliant.

2. A weird night at Hill and Boya's birthday. Lots of drinking and smoking to be had, but some very intense conversations ensued. It felt like I was in a Tarantino film.

I remember having some fantastic philosophical thought on the weekend, but forgot the point of it. I think it was something to do with not sleeping with the town bike and if that makes you unpopular yet unique, but if it had any mention of that in it, its doubtful that I had anything meaningful to say.

Oh, and the ending credits to "Keroro Gunsou" is, like, the funkiest shit ever!

Colored by Booze

"I'm so tired of being lonely
I still have some love to give
Won't you show me that you really care?"
- Traveling Wilburys - Handle With Care

"LOL No"
- Me

Incident the First:

EXT - NIGHT - OUTSIDE SWANSTON ST MCDONALDS
TOM, NAT and her friends ADAM and SAM are quoting internet memes rather audibly as they walk towards the HI-FI BAR. NAT sees another group of friends and stops to say hello. TOM begins to agitate GOOFY HAIR BLOKE.

GOOFY HAIR BLOKE
Hey guys.

NAT
Hey, hows it going!

ADAM
YOU CAN FUCK MY WIFE!

TOM
(to GHB)
What are you looking at and shit?

GHB:
(startled)
What?

TOM:
You heard me. Stop looking at me and shit, I'm just walking here and having a good time and shit and you keep looking at me. What kind of poofter shit is this?

ALL:
LOL

GHB and company walk away.

TOM:
Fuckin' oath you keep walking.

Incident the Second:

EXT - NIGHT - CNR SWANSTON AND COLLINS STS
Proceeding from the McDonalds, the group continue their journey unabated. TOM spots a COUPLE making out.

TOM
(sarcastic)
Why don't you get a room and shit?

GIRL
(disengages from boyfriend)
laughs hysterically

ALL
LOL

Berserkerfox performed brilliantly again last night. If they aren't signed on the merits of their performances alone, then the recording industry can just piss off. I sincerely hope Rock Hard Entertainment's new show gets off the ground. Andrew and Sarah are cool guys and doesn't afraid of anything

Beat on the Brat

I've been having a major Ramones kick recently. Something tells me that my re-issue of their self-titled album on vinyl isn't enough. Hopefully Nat should be burning me their Greatest Hits compilation for me. (read: hint!)

I also jokingly considered running for my local council with Catch and Ahchow yesterday. Somehow I don't think running a borderline nut-job libertarian program of privatizing all the council services and replacing rates as a source of income by investing in the construction of a huge bell on top of Southland in a bid for the City of Kingston being home to "The biggest bell in the Southern Hemisphere" (Yeah, the North has Big Ben and the Liberty Bell!) and the ensuing consumption-free foreign tourist cash flow to fund whatever a council supposedly does. But then I hit upon an even better idea to get myself elected to office in a heartbeat.

Abolish the Kingston City Council altogether and let the State government take up the slack. Hell, I'd vote for me!

Man About Town

My eyes look like sunken graves, the whites blurred, the pupils like an abyss staring into the distance. My sleeping timetable is monumentally fucked - I need some structure (read: a proper job) to get things happening again. It's not the fact I wake up with no purpose that doesn't get me out of bed, its just inertia. General inertia.

Nevertheless, my mini-getaway holiday was firstly furnished by the lovely Kyle and DeeDee, who provided much lulz in their cozy house in the middle of the "Ghetto", which isn't too far removed from an apt description. Their taste in TV is unsurpassed and of course never failed to disappoint. I am going to have so much fun watching Department S. Also, if Australia treated their Big Brother housemates with utter contempt like they do in Britain, I would be half-way inclined to watch it.

If you haven't seen the Grindhouse double in the cinema - DON'T! (I mean, of course, please do. Its such a fantastic experience. DON'T! is just a reference that myself and Natasha couldn't stop making after we saw Edgar Wright's awesome grindhouse inspired "preview" of a slasher pic.) I am ultimately (in the truest nature of the word) very tired and very broke.

I love the internet - there's nothing you can't find out...eventually.