I may be the only one, but I kind of miss MySpace. I mean, not enough to go back to that ghost town and wander down the streets, alone, in the dark, but in a warm and fuzzy, sit back in an easy chair and next to a crackling fire sort of nostalgic way. True confession: I’ve been a horrible friend to Tom. That poor guy. When was the mass exodus to Facebook? It’s like all his friends just sort of divorced him and hooked up with that douchenozzle, Zuckerberg, just because he had tighter apps. And now he’s like that dude whose wife took everything in the divorce because she found out that she liked money more* (*Story not typical. Actual results may vary), just sitting in a run-down hovel, hoping that maybe the kids might like to see him this week, but it’s okay, he understands… by the way, he’s going to see Justin Timberlake this weekend… No? Okay, that’s cool, I guess. I’m probably just romanticizing it, but it felt to me as if MySpace was actually built as a place to hang out with your friends, whereas Facebook is that trendy club where the music is too loud, and that is just to distract you from the fact that you are what is being sold. I check back in on my accounts from time to time, to see just how much that it has changed, and it reminds me of old people trying to be cool.

Wow, I just logged in, and decided that I never want to go back there again. I was going to bring up the blog I had over there, and how much I loved doing it (as infrequently as I did), and how the fact that Facebook isn’t really ideal for blogging is probably what inspired me to buy my own website, but seeing just what MySpace has become… It took me about ten minutes to track down any hint that I might have ever posted anything, finally uncovering the link beneath a mountain of thinly veiled contempt regarding “MySpace Classic.” The blogs are no longer a feature of the MySpace experience, but, to the credit of the new overlords, all the blogs were available for download. They could have just wiped all memories of the old paradigm away to make room for the jumbled mess that now exists where my home page used to be, but for whatever reason, my rambling musings from eight years ago are safe once more. I was going to keep this light, and mock the entire Social Media Experience, maybe throwing a link to Tex Batmart of 2007, but I am suddenly overcome with grief at the loss of my vestigial tale.

Spending time on MySpace was like being a social drinker, it was something to do with friends, but nothing to get all worked up over. Facebook is like shooting heroin. Or checking the fridge after five minutes because there might be something new there. I like to stay in contact with people whom I might not otherwise be able, but the majority of my time on the site (or usually the app), is spent scrolling through an endless parade of content that probably doesn’t interest me. And Twitter has gotten so bad that I haven’t checked in on my app in over a month. Yes, I like all of the people I am following. No, I don’t want to see 500 tweets every half an hour (except from John Scalzi: that dude is money). But it’s all just another symptom of our growing distance from one another. I rarely call anyone anymore, and why should I? It’s so much easier to just shoot them a text, and not get locked into a conversation where I have to pretend to give a crap about their cat for twenty minutes. And in restaurants, on dates, everybody has a smartphone, and no one makes eye contact. I’m not saying it’s all bad; as someone with social anxiety, the thought of picking up the phone and calling someone I don’t know is practically paralyzing. I don’t know how I ever found the courage to call girls up in high school (when I was also attending- it’s not a hobby that I’ve kept), risking the wrath of their parents, or the silence that followed our exhaustion of all the things we had in common that I’d hoped would lead to something involving boobs, but rarely did.

The world is changing and reality seems out of context. It’s hard to connect with someone when dry wit can be so easily misconstrued. Does this mean that I will cancel my Facebook account, my cellular coverage, and disconnect from the interwebs? Probably not. I like to imagine that people want to hear what I have to say (probably just an affectation I’ve picked up on my road to trying to be an author), and occasionally, I like to be introduced to new things by those with whom I’ve chosen to associate. The sum of human knowledge is contained somewhere in the World Wide Web (my lawn is showing), and yet we use that infinite capacity for growth and societal enrichment to trade sarcastic barbs, and watch other people getting squelchy. Truly, we are the pinnacle of evolution, and it is right that we maintain dominion over the lesser species.

In addition to my disillusionment at the state of my old page, I found another one that I had at the time. It was a recording project that Fed and I had kind of started, and one that I thought might lead to at least a E.P. that I could sell. But then I became a dad, and Fed moved away, and the dream of Fealous Jage sort of fell away. I hadn’t actually heard this song in couple years, as I rarely use my iPod anymore, and it was kind of fun to give it another listen. I’m including the link so you guys can go and check it out.

Without any further ado, ladies and gentlemen, I give you “Snowdrift”, by Fealous Jage. Enjoy!

-Tex