Archive for 06/17/2015

Your Importance is Negligible.

I posted the most amazing guacamole I have ever made, and people aren't even sharing the recipe.  And now my ugly baby is crying. UGHhhhhh.

I posted the most amazing guacamole I have ever made, and people aren’t even sharing the recipe. And now my ugly baby is crying. UGHhhhhh.

The plague of self-importance delusions social networks have spewed across the average person’s brain is spreading far and fast.  I am writing this update to inform you of how little you actually matter. All of the likes you try so hard to get on that picture you posted of your perfectly-made, out-of-the-freezer-into-the-pan breakfast add up to absolutely nothing. Sadly I think most people are aware of it, yet are addicted, to what I can only describe as self-identified delusions. At this point, most people check facebook before that awful morning feeling creeps over them, reminding them that they’re still alive and their life still sucks.  We KNOW that nothing has really happened since the last time it was checked (not that long ago), you KNOW you care not for the pictures of rainbows and “have a great day” memes already posted by your “early bird” friends who incessantly post cheery bullshit every morning in order to wish the world a great day.  You scroll right the fuck past the glowing crucifix pictures asking you to pray for this sick kid or that battered house-cat, begging you to put your hands together, look to the sky, and do absolutely nothing at all.  Moving on… scroll scroll scrolll…..  Oh, a hot chick… that registered for a second… scrolling… someone I sort of recognize died?  Twitter is a’blaze!  Oh, they died like five years ago, and this is just some weird internet reemergence of outdated information nobody bothered to check. Well, that sucks, since you already made that heart-felt post about the first time you saw/heard/read/listened to the celebrity in question, and how torn up you are over their death.  Of course, being an actual fan might mean you’d have known they’ve been dead for years, but nobody is perfect. The internet is not perfect.

The internet, as a whole, forms a giant beast, operating under the direction of possibly the most moronic hive-mind ever to be accidentally created. It is so important to your life that you actually base whether or not someone you care about is paying attention to you by the last time they commented on one of your inane status updates about your dog’s indigestion.  See, the ability to take pictures of ourselves at all times, make them available to the world at all times, virtually rate and judge your pictures and others at any time of the day or night, has caused a problem.  Nobody ever stopped to consider the illusion of importance this creates in the minds of every-day people.  Just because you CAN post every singular moment of your mundane existence to the universe, doesn’t mean you should. But perhaps, more importantly, doesn’t mean people give a shit about it.

I would say for every person out there with a baby (there are so fucking many of you, assholes), probably .0003 percent of the people who have seen or commented on the five hundred pictures of your blubbery, wet, sack of responsibility, actually care whatsofucking ever about it.  AND they are probably the person who was already there for the birth, or took the pictures themselves.  If there is one thing social networking has absolutely confirmed, if television and common sense hadn’t already, it is that nearly all babies look the same, and the more we have to see them, the less appealing they are. Prefacing with “sorry for all the pics but this one is adorbsssss” doesn’t cut it here, sister. Why? Because it isn’t adorbs to us, none of us, or at least all but .0003% of us. And that person is fucking retarded.

All those things you scroll through like an anesthetized, drooling, gaytard, are the equivalent of all the things you post that others scroll through. That’s the game, folks. Always concerned with the importance of your own tedious shit while scrolling past the lives (however fucking boring they are) of others.  The social network of the self.  The biggest drug to the ego, ever.

And you’re all addicted. And you’re all terrible humans.

All babies are ugly, stop trying to convince yourselves of anything else by counting the “cute’s” you get in the comments. For one, they are socially-programed responses to your very bad decision-making skills. And two, there shouldn’t be an apostrophe in that “cute’s”, your friend is an idiot on account of their grammar usage, and their opinion of your harpee-like baby.

Congratulations, you failed at everything. Even your dumb fuck friends.