I only drink so I can social network. I never social network therefore I am…available to drink… Is it a cliché to say I don’t understand the ‘facebook’ thing really? I want too I suppose, I do. Over the last few weeks Kate has kept me abreast of some good news that’s been ‘posted’ by relatives and friends – exam results, college places achieved, births, - and that’s great but I suppose I would have preferred a phone call.
I don’t (I really don’t) want to sound like Mr. Angry of Little Hampton but I do feel slightly uneasy about the news and the type of detail being shared; detail that once upon a time would have been part of people getting together in the same space. I’m just saying stuff that’s been said before right? ‘My God! What’s wrong with the World?! Don’t people talk anymore?!’ But it’s all a good right? Isn’t it? We only do it to be sociable. Yes?
As you get to know people you discover things about them right? It’s the journey not the destination that’s important (or some other tired expression). I thought I would be excited that social networking can be a bit like laying your life out as a living, changing exhibit. But sometimes your exhibit - that you’ve spent a lot of time putting together - will be picked at like road-kill by strangers. You okay about that? Here’s my favourite stuff. Here’s what makes up my life. Slag it. And do what thou wilt shall be the whole reason for the social net…
And another thing (brace yourself - here comes Mr. Paranoid) ‘They/The Man/The Establishment’ don’t need CCTV anymore by the way. They know where you are. Because everyone tells everyone else where they are, where they’ve been, where they’re going and who they were with while they were there. And here’s the pictures/video/podcast to prove it. Everybody’s telling me what they’re doing. And here I am telling you… Everybody’s talking at me and I can’t hear a word they’re saying… because my children are so much louder than everybody else. They're loudest. And closest to my ear. In the same room and everything.
My son R talks and talks and talks but very seldom says ‘Dad’. Recently he’s started calling me and Kate by superhero names. He’s Batman, I’m Spiderman and his mother is Superman. Yesterday I overhead Kate talking to him while they were in the kitchen together – a dialogue which concluded in a way that I never ever want to forget –
‘I like you Superman. I love you Superman’… ‘I love you too Batman’….
Tex
Super!
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