Chris Walker Vs. Oldbook

Online social networking is out of control. This isn’t a groundbreaking revelation; it’s a well-accepted fact. If articles about mothers making fake profiles to harass their teenage daughter’s enemies weren’t troubling enough, websites like Lamebook will remind you daily just how ridiculous, unreasonable, and excessively narcissistic we are.

As much as I acknowledge the absurdity that comes with online social networking, how it showcases the worst in people (if you take shirtless self-portraits in your bathroom I’m talking to you), myself included (3 a.m. rants about Michael Jackson “news” coverage and Sean Hannity, anyone?), it’s never bothered me to the point where I felt like I shouldn’t participate. That is, until last night when I received a friend request from my grandmother.

I love my grandmother. I really do. I fondly reminisce on our trips to the bookstore, overindulging in sweets, and watching Bruce Lee’s Enter The Dragon on VHS. She’s the reason I enjoy jazz music, Mel Brooks films, and believe cheeseburgers are a breakfast food. Out of all the grandchildren, I’m still her favorite. That being said, my father’s mother, born before the advent of color television, does not need to be on Facebook. Child predators creeping fourteen-year-olds? Expected. Reminders that people don’t like being at work or wish it wasn’t Monday or what-the-fuck-ever personal information I don’t care about? I can handle it. Facebook-ing grandparents? I had a hard enough time befriending my own mother. This is too much.

Why does my grandmother even want to be on a social networking website? I thought one of the best parts about being old is shunning modern technology (along with shaking your head at “kids these days” and talking about how great Sinatra was in his prime). Last time I checked my grandmother had difficulty opening a web browser, now she’s supposed to upload photos and make status updates? Her head will explode. What are these updates even going to read like: “Love that Regis Philbin. LOL. My back hurts,”? And what does this slippery slope lead to next, GrandTwitter?

As technology advances and the human race devolves, I guess it’s only fair that old people have access to social networking sites. All I’m saying is there ought be a senior division. Like in golf. Segregated sites with names like Oldbook or GeriatricSpace; havens where our churchgoing, god-fearing elders can safely congregate in cyberspace amongst themselves, leaving the rest of us free to write expletives in comments and post inebriated party pics without the fear of scrutiny.

Until we have age-partitioned social networking sites, my grandmother should not be on one. Chances are, neither should yours. It seriously makes me consider throwing in the towel on this whole online community thing. I know I’m not alone. If grandparents want to contact their grandchildren they should just pick up a phone or send a letter like the good old days. I don’t hang out in the bingo hall, don’t intrude on my social networking.

LINK:

Lamebook

Posted: July 13th, 2009 | Author: Chris Walker | Filed under: Social Commentary | 6 Comments »

Chris Walker Vs. The “Amazing” Game

Drinking games. Everyone knows how to play at least one, right? There’s a variety of them: King’s Cup, Never Have I Ever, Presidents and Assholes. One of my favorites: the Every Time Game. You know how it’s played; whenever [fill-in-the-blank] happens during [fill-in-the-blank] you take a shot of [fill-in-the-blank]. There was an Every Time Game that revolved around the Buffy The Vampire Slayer television show; every time one of Sarah Michelle Gellar’s bra straps was revealed during an episode you had to drink. One time, I got so drunk playing that game, I ended up in the gardening department of Wal-Mart wearing nothing but red Power Ranger underwear, arm floaties, and a Hello Kitty bike helmet.

Anyway. I’ve created a new drinking game, a new Every Time Game. My version is so hardcore I don’t even recommend drinking alcohol while you play. Chances are, if you do, you’ll die. Here’s what you do: every time you come in contact with the word “amazing” — whether you say it, someone talking to you or in your vicinity says it, you read it on a blog or in a gossip magazine, hear it on morning-fuck-zoo radio show or on TV, whatever — imagine taking a shot of hard alcohol.

An example:

“Oh my god, Ashley; did you watch last night’s episode of The Hills? It was amazing. When Heidi was all like, ‘Look at my new shoes, they’re amazing,’ and Whitney was all like, ‘You’re right; they are amazing!’ I was all like, no they’re not! It was amazing.”

I believe that’s worth four shots.

Do it for twenty-four hours. Hell, do it for one hour if you’re watching HGTV. Keep score on a napkin. I guarantee when you’re done, the number will be so high, just adding up all the check marks will give you a 1.0 percent blood alcohol level.

I don’t know when the whole of the American population forgot our language contains an extensive list of adjectives — adjectives other than “amazing” — but it has happened. It bothers me; it depresses me; I notice it and think about it all the time. Almost as much as I think about recreating Tom Colicchio’s pastrami sandwich from his restaurant chain, ‘wichcraft, and playing strip-poker, strip-foosball, strip-anything with Fox News’ Megyn Kelly.

Megyn Kelly. I’m not always listening to what she’s saying, but I’m sure it’s amazing.

Maybe it’s Sex and the City’s fault. I’ve never been coherent through an entire episode of that show but I can’t imagine the chick from Big Trouble In Little China using a word other than “amazing” to describe something. Okay; maybe “fabulous”. Is Kanye West to blame? I’m sure he’d like to take credit, not being a big book reader and all, but I feel like this started before his music. No matter who’s fault it is, I know what I’m getting everyone this year for Christmas: a thesaurus and a shot glass. That, and the first season of Dawson’s Creek on DVD. That show was amazing.

LINKS:

‘wichcraft

Big Trouble In Little China (One of the finest cinematic adventures ever, starring Kim Cattrall.)

Fox News’ Megyn Kelly

Dawson’s Creek (I’ve signed this thing, like, fifty times.)

Posted: July 7th, 2009 | Author: Chris Walker | Filed under: The Dumbing Down of America | 3 Comments »