One of my Facebook friends posted a picture of a pulled pork sandwich and coleslaw platter that she and her fiancé had cooked, and then compared the strength of their relationship to the tastiness of the food. That is the inspiration for this post.
As I looked at the arrangement of sandwich, slaw, and Lays chips (seems they cut corners and bought those), a few things came to mind:
1. I have spent too much time looking at this.
2. Why?
3. What has MY fiancé eaten today?
a. Armand, please don't feel bad that I know more about X--'s fiancé's current diet than yours. There's nothing going on between us. I swear.
To make things clear, this is not an attack on Ms. Slaw and her four-star dinner. I think two of those four things any time I open Facebook or Twitter. I don't think it's necessary for anyone to give livestream life updates, but that's not my problem. My problem is when I encounter passive-aggressive, dodgy people in real life who then feel the need to overshare online. The two are related. I just know it.
Passive aggressiveness is a failure to directly say what you mean to someone you don't agree with. Some argue that passive aggressiveness is a defense mechanism--there are some people who really, really don't like conflict. And yes, it's all funny internet slideshows--until you're in a group project and there's one person who gives you the weird eye but refuses to give you feedback about what you could improve on. A classmate and I just finished an internship at a literary magazine, and one of our superiors had a bad case of PA. After receiving a very confrontational email, my friend requested a face-to-face meeting. Our boss gathered a bunch of papers together, said they thought everything was fine, and left the office. How's that for closure?
The Facebook Effect--sharing intimate details of life that most people couldn't care less about--has not created passive aggression. But it has created a polarization effect that makes passive aggression so much easier to identify and resent. If we are comfortable enough to share photos of our new shoes with a handful of close friends and a boatload of acquaintances via Face, why can't we tell our roommates we want the couch on the other side of the room? WHY CAN'T WE JUST TALK TO STEVE?!?! We could use the poster as a spit-shield when planning the conversation.
Am I asking for less passive aggression? Can we just blame celebrities for trending TMI? Is my Facebook friend's picture of their new nail polish a shout to the online void for someone to care because nothing kills an irl conversation like discussing nail polish?
There is a problem here, and I have figured it out.
I am the problem.
I am Facebook's problem.
While writing this post, I thought about if a Facebook profile could count as a form of creative non-fiction. After all, Facebook profiles narrate real stories of real lives. Despite the realness of it all (or maybe IN spite), it doesn't. There are two components to a successful non-fiction piece: scenes and deep meaning. Facebook statuses & photos provide the scenes. They don't provide deep meaning or insight (if it does, I'm worried about the implication of store-bought potato chips on the plate of a cooked-from-scratch meal made by a newly engaged couple who compare the quality of their relationship to the awesomeness of the home-cooked food). Notice that I don't gripe about wedding photos, child photos, or remembrance photos. A "my sister is now breast-cancer free" status is not TMI--it carries deep sentimental implications and is relatable to everyone who reads it.
To everyone who leaves this post thinking "Sheesh, she didn't HAVE to look at the damn sandwich," you're right. I didn't. But I did, and it's the inspiration for this post, nothing more. It could've easily been a different picture that led me to the same train of thought--how has society became so unbalanced in the self-expression category? That's all.
To everyone who disagrees with everything I've written and my ideas about media moderation, Merry Christmas from my socks.