Hypercompendia

It’s something we all get upset about now and then, or rather half of us do–the other half are the people who upset us. They’re the ones who send friend requests when we don’t even know them or anyone who does know them. This happens on the social networking sites, Facebook, My Space, and all the small groups that have formed on the web due to some kind of sense that folks who like the same things are just bound to like each other. On twitter, you get followers and I’ve learned that a lady’s name followed by four numerals is most likely a minor porn star.

This morning I got fed up. Within the space of an hour I had five “friend” requests and within minutes of confirming, I received requests for favors, i.e., “please go and vote for me here”, from four of them. No, I’m not going to vote for you blindly, and I don’t owe you that much time to figure out not only who you are, if you’re worthy, but what the whole contest’s about as well.

So I’m sort of sweeping up, cleaning house, dumping “friends.” Lord knows, the ones that I know personally as well as so many of the ones I’ve made online are precious, responsive, and supportive. That’s all I need.

This morning I received an e-mail from Amazon.com where I frequently purchase books.

Dear Amazon.com Customer,
As someone who has purchased or rated books by Roland Barthes, you might like to know that Health Insurance And Health Savings Account Made Easy is now available. You can order yours for just $9.95 by following the link below.

I’m still trying to figure out the connection between Barthes and Health Insurance and even with the longest stretch, I cannot see one. So? Obviously a sales gimmick to push a current hot topic on some configuration of their customers.

This is what bothers me about social networking and internet identifiers. Bad enough that folks don’t seem to “get” us in real life, but on the net where we’ve so carefully (and carelessly) let ourselves be judged by what we write, link to, photo-share, and buy? The old Animals’ tune is running around in my mind: “I’m just a soul whose intentions are good/Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood.” It’s one of our  fears, for many of us, one of our biggest.

So is an internet identity as cool as we think? Is what we put out there–real or wishful fantasy–something we want hanging in cyberspace well beyond our own physical presence has mouldered (or been crispy-fried) away? Interesting, this new technology, eh?

Just as I was writing this I noticed a post in Facebook by Chris Klimas that tells the story perfectly in a visual:

I don’t understand this world where people don’t want to see the trees that make up the forest; where ‘friends’ number in the hundreds or thousands yet have never been touched or held.

It’s a place where we claim unity via communication of typed sentences, often restricted by number of characters such as in twitter, typing into boxes and pressing a ‘submit’ or ‘publish’ key. Where we needn’t ask anyone to even be there, as a face to face or telephone call may require, to communicate because we just throw it out there and let them catch it at will. We don’t know or even care if they do.

Social networking may be the connection of strangers who pretend to be friends for a few minutes as long as the walls of distance are in place. We seem to care more for people in unknown quantities, in unknown quarters: ‘the poor’, ‘the hungry’, ‘the illegal alien’, ‘the oppressed’, ‘the elderly’, rather than any specific, touchable, reachable neighbor or friend. The whole rather than the individual. Which sounds terrifically magnanimous but at the same time terribly empty. Something rings hollow, false. It’s a juxtaposition of intimacy and distance in space. Even as we widen our circle of communication, we seem to accept less intimacy as we draw our own walls, presenting our lives in limited blocks of text.

This also on today’s ‘twitter’ news from and article on Networking Etiquette at USA Today : “After all, the average person has 120 “friends” on Facebook, according to the company. In real life, the average North American has about three very close friends and 20 people they are pretty close to, said Barry Wellman, a sociologist at the University of Toronto.”

This whole topic fascinates me and I take it personally; I’ve always been better at writing than face to face verbal communication and yet, why does this new approach bother me when I should be reveling in the idea that my time has finally come?

If you’re sensitive, the new communication methods of twitter, MySpace, Facebook, et al, are no less humiliating than the face-to-face snub.

My sensitivity is limited to the opinion of those I care about and hold in high esteem or a direct attack by anyone, so this is not a personal case of complaint but rather an observation of the workings of the medium. For example, on twitter, you can opt to be notified when someone starts following your tweets, but you don’t necessarily have to follow them. Since the majority of those who follow are just looking for numbers, you can opt out, and, you can block them if like me, you don’t choose to be a mere addition in somebody’s numbered quest for fame. But what about someone you know? Well it’s pretty hard to either block or not follow because they’ll know it. There’s even (or used to be) qwitter.com that showed when someone stops following you so you can figure out time-wise what you tweeted that made them drop you like a hot potato.

I don’t have experience with MySpace, but on Facebook, it’s a constant push to add to your “Friends” listing. Based on your personal list, that list is expanded to their lists, and these folks are touted as possible friends. This works well to discover who else you might know is on Facebook, and obviously is an excellent method of expanding and connecting. But these faces, one at a time, show up in a prominent space each time you log in, with the suggestion that you add them to your list. But what if you don’t want to? What if you feel it would be an imposition and, knowing that they have to approve you, are intimidated into non-action. Or maybe you just don’t like’em.

Of course this brings you to the other side of the story; if you’re seeing them, they’re watching your image come up randomly with the same suggestion, that they add you. And they don’t. You have to figure that they’ve been given the opportunity, but have chosen not to take it. Is it intimidation or is it b) they just don’t like you? Do you wonder why they’re not picking you for their team? And meanwhile, they’re wondering the same about you. Ironically, these forms of socializing are acting as an equalizer.

You can’t be super sensitive to these things and by the same token, you can’t expect the world to want you watching them. These are, just as in real life, social situations and as technology creates new communication means the social mores will eventually be established to keep us all in a polite society where hopefully no one’s nose gets out of joint.

Like many people, I blog as well as Twitter and post on Facebook and diigo. Each has its purpose for me, and each its own circle of “friends.” In fact, I had been on Facebook to try it out and dropped out because it didn’t seem to do it for me. I rejoined under invitation from my closest high school girlfriend and folks found me there. Diigo is used only for particular new media linking, and I haven’t exercised my Netvibes circle to link in with others. The two weblogs I have are separated by topic. Twitter is a place for those random quick thoughts that don’t beg a paragraph to a page.

One thing I’ve noticed is that my circle of “friends” is repeated in the different networking systems (and I’ve avoided connecting with family on these and may start up a separate identity for them instead) and while I tried but decided against repeat posts at twitter and Facebook, I notice that many of the others do exactly that. And, if another area is merely being pointed out, i.e., a link to their longer posting at a weblog or video site, then there are three or five or more places where a single item may appear, and the question then becomes where to respond if a response is wanted.

Obviously the same response can be posted at all sites, yet this seems to just clog the atmosphere with duplication. On the other hand, the single post may induce different threads of commentary and so wander off into areas that are related, and yet not linked.

Interesting.

I’m not exactly sure how it was set up, but I was recently invited to an event by a dear friend on Facebook and after taking part, realized that it was a successful example of folks getting together momentarily in time and space.

In this case, it was as a memorial on the one-year anniversary of her mother’s passing. I received e-mail notice and checked in to see the number of people invited, who would be attending, and the request to share a story or two about her mom with the others. It was noted that the event was scheduled for a particular date and time period, in this case, April 19th, from 2:00 pm to 4:00 pm (Tennessee time–that’s one of the glitches, that you have to specify time zone or else everyone’s thinking differently).

This idea could easily work for conferencing or discussion that needs a rapid input of ideas from a group, i.e., brainstorming session. Despite its silence and lack of visuals–although Pat did put up some nice images of her mom and the family to add to the sense of closeness–there was a feeling of sharing and the imagination puts the attendees sitting ‘somewhere’ with their fingers on a keyboard. People drifted in and out, not all online at the same time (whereas this could and would likely be a requisite for a group discussion), and it seemed that some just left the application open and wandered back in to check new comments or add a thought.

All in all, a lovely experience to share this particular span of time with a high school best friend in remembering her mother and offering support in the grieving process.  But I can also see this as a viable means to hook up a group for anything from classroom discussions to topical groups to meeting points.

When I received a Facebook invite from my high school best friend, Pat, I cringed. This horrid reaction was only because I’d tried Facebook before and found it to just be one more place to scatter my thoughts. It seemed that everyone knew if I was ‘on’ and I didn’t feel right about not contacting them, as if I was tiptoeing by to avoid them. There may be a shutoff for this but I didn’t stay on long enough to find out. But with the best of intentions to keep in touch, it seemed the years flew by without contact between Pat and I above Christmas catchups and a promise to call or email right after the holidays.

Within an hour of rejoining, I had seven friends. You can’t really turn down an invitation, and luckily, these are all people I know and like so it wasn’t a problem. It’s up to nine now, after a day on the network and that number could rise quickly very easily since Facebook sorts through all its data on all its members and finds connections to bring up loads of folks you may know. Via Pat’s page, I found a photo of a young couple who are likely related, (son?) to my first serious boyfriend, Jimmy.

Then I played a bit by putting in people that I do know, such as members of my family, my husband’s, some of our friends and old acquaintances. Yep, there are plenty of them on Facebook. I immediately found two of my nieces, two of my nephews, my sister-in-law, my great niece, part of my neighbor’s family, several more friends, and a slew of my customers and past co-workers. And here’s where I stopped.

We all have family, friends, co-workers, a present and a past. Facebook, it would seem, can bridge all the gaps of time and bring everyone together. That’s not my way of social intercourse. There are different worlds for different friendships and while it’d be a great idea to let everyone know simultaneously what’s going on–sort of like that detestable Christmas letter–there are certainly different layers of intimacy and interests among our circles of communication that don’t need to or want to overlap.

More on this later, or maybe I’ve already covered this issue in the series I’ve done here. I’m just thinking that maybe I’m not good with large groups not only in physical living, but on the wide world of the internet either.