Standing on the edge, gazing back at tomorrow

I finally did it. I gave in to the mob. I buckled under the immense pressure I was put under, by thousands of people, mostly worshippers, from all over the world, and..

..well, okay, so there wasn't that much pressure. All right, I admit it, it wash more of a.. gentle push. Yes well, fine, so it was a barely noticeable nudge, but still, it did the job, didn't it? It got me eating out of the dying carcass of that most horrible of time-wasting beasts, the social networking site. More specifically, I now have a facebook profile. And no, I'm not going to link to it, because there's hardly a point, is there? It's not like there's anything remotely interesting to see there. Not like all these other profiles I've now discovered: These sprawling, bling-laden, novel-sized monoliths of social desperation.. no wonder all my friends've been so distant over the last year. Seriously, some of these profiles read like P. Diddys to-do list, or a teenagers autobiography or something. It's so full of pointlessness it makes my heart despair just thinking about it. Is this what we have become? When the human race finally goes down for good, it's not going to be because of melting polar caps or nuclear annihilation, it'll be because of Facebook and World of Fucking Warcraft. Some alien race or evolved monkey will find our fossilized remains, just as we're taking yet another personality test or nudging (and by all that is holy, what kind of moronic concept is that? I would make some kind of joke out of it, but i really don't feel like it's necessary) some fancy fuck we haven't met or even tried to make contact with for years. Do you really want to be discovered like that? Frozen forever, in the process of finding out what kind of shoe you are or how many people likes the same dodgy sexual positions as you?

Obviously, the answer is yes. If not, none of us would be here, after all. We would be outside, being creative, doing something worthwhile, trying to make the world a slightly better place while desperately ignoring the futility of our efforts. When we died, it would be with a smile on our lips, not a smug one or a giant grin, but a smile of contentment, of reserved happiness. Instead we're going out with our hands on our dicks and cigarettes on our lips. I write this and make no contribution to the mental well-being of the world, none whatsoever. You read this and you prove that you're just slaking your thirst for mindless entertainment, and you're too damn lazy to find some of quality. Maybe you should do yourself a favor, go read things like this. It might (and allow me to stress the might here, since it's obviously too early to say for sure) expand your mind a bit, make you see life from a different, maybe even dizzying, angle. It's worth keeping an eye on, for sure.

But, you know, don't mind me. I'm just bitter because I'll probably end up with less than 10 friends (roughly 1% as much as the average social networking site user, according to studies I just made up), three nudges and no pointless profile-bling. And as we all know, if you fail at social networking, u f@il @ l1f3.