Now that the thrill of our hyper-connected existence is gone, virtual life has become a depressing daily grind. We
toil late into the night, unleashing an endless stream of status
updates and tweets in a desperate attempt to keep ourselves relevant,
desirable and in.
There's an ominous irony in FarmVille, a Facebook application that enables users to build and maintain a virtual farm. It's more than a game: It's an allegory. Virtual existence is feudalism for the modern age. Those who hold the information are kings and those of us toiling in the virtual fields are the servile peasantry: selling our souls for the mind-numbing comfort of an online existence.
Social Networking Sites (SNSs)
promise limitless, boundless friendship - a phenomenon that should make
us happier than ever. But our optimism over connectivity has gradually
morphed into cynicism and resentment. It turns out virtual life is less about connectivity than self-branding.
SNSs entice us to divulge and update, stroking our fragile egos with
filtered ads that utilize our personal information to reap huge
profits, as our hundreds of "friends" perpetually rate our online
popularity.
Paranoid about how we'll be perceived, we spend hour after
hour trying to avoid the virtual consequences of being deemed uncool.
We have more to worry about than our online acquaintances deleting us
after we're tagged in an unflattering photo.
Sites like Lamebook,
devoted to reposting cliché status updates and socially awkward wall
exchanges, humiliate those virtual personas who are unfamiliar with the
web's mores and codes.
Bleak, shallow and repetitive, virtual life seems increasingly less worth living. Users are beginning to realize that it's not leisure, it's work that borders on servitude.
But there's a resistance growing among those
tired of their virtual subjugation. In response to the electronic
world's rising indignation, virtual suicide sites like seppukoo.com and suicidemachine.org
have started a countermovement, provoking users to kill their online
selves and reclaim their real lives.
These programs assist our virtual
deaths by hacking into our profiles, completely annihilating our online
personas and leaving no trace of our former selves behind.
It's social
revolt for the online age: a mass uprising that will shatter the
virtual hierarchy and restore order to our actual lives.
Jo Anne said (February 25, 2010):
The problem with the analysis in this article is that people use social networking sites for different reasons. I'm a stay-at-home mom and facebook helps me keep in touch with far-flung relatives and friends. It also provides me with an direct link to public officials (and other activists) where I can find out about legislation, vent my concerns or opinions and other community events.
I can understand the need for some people to unplug from their computers and "join the rest of us" in the real world; however, not all of us have the luxury of having endless hours of time to sit on the computer. We are busy with real life and these sites help us renew and develop friendships/relationships that we might otherwise neglect.