MyProblem with MySpace

My "friends" (and I use this term literally, not simply in MySpace
speak) know that my relationship with this website has been somewhat
tenuous and turbulent ever since my last stint as Elmer Fishpaw. Having
originally signed on to take advantage of the easy-to-use blog function of
the website, I initially approached MySpace as a means of accomplishing
something that I had been considering for a long time - to document my
lifelong movie habit while maintaining a comprehensive list of every movie I
see. Simply list the flick with fun screenshots and, if necessary, make
appropriate comments. I couldn't have cared less about the "social
networking" aspect of the site. Having been one in high school who just kind
of drifted from social group to social group instead of aligning myself with
one particular faction, I did my best to not give cliques the power to
really mean anything to me personally. Later in college, while attending a
National Broadcast Society meeting in New York City, I began to see
desperate graduates-to-be embrace a curious tactic called "networking" as a
means of ensuring their post-collegiate profitability. Was I frightened to
go into the "real" world when the only job-seeking advice the teacher I
assisted and befriended for three years had was "look in the phone book"
(turns out he was giving the juicy internships to all the hotties he would
horn out over) - fuck yeah! My job description wasn't even on any of those
lists that lay out the average salaries of colleges graduates, leaving me simply to speculate that if I didn't make millions, I would probably be destitute. It seemed like a total joke. I was as keen as anyone to make a decent living after I graduated, but the inherent schmooziness of the whole broadcast industry was already beginning to wear pretty thin on me.

Of course after college I got a hard lesson in the mindset and tactics of
the desperate while cutting my teeth (and nearly my wrists) at Fox Sports
Net Detroit. I hate sports, and only gotten the job in programming as a bit
of a fluke; looking back, it really was a joke. An interminably long and
excruciating joke but a joke none-the-less. Sports Programmer: Jason
Buchanan. It was absolutely refuckingcockulous. The man who loathes sports
and sports mentality with pretty much every ounce of his capacity for
loathing was now working in the programming department of a major cable
sports channel. If I was ever going to succeed in this line of work, it goes
without saying that I would have to a) golf and b) give a shit about sports.
Since I pretty much came to see golf as an overpriced game played by
ass-kissers and schmoozers (it's here that I should ask my friends who enjoy
the sport to forgive my minor prejudice as I know well this isn't always the
case), and I hadn't the knowledge or desire to acquire the basic
communication tools (ie endless sports statistics and the results of last
night's game) needed to interact with these people on any but the most
cursory of terms, I guess it's fair to say that this was a bad career move -
a move made not by genuine interest or ambition but rather equal parts fear
and indecision. It was a miserable failure as well, but if I had to single
out the good I'd just say that I learned a few valuable things about
corporate mindset and met some of my favorite people there. I still work
part time in production, but I'm lately gravitating away from that.

These days I work at a full-time job I enjoy, and in an environment filled
with people whom it seems I have much more in common with. As in high school
I haven't lingered too long at any single lunch table. I usually just eat at
my desk. As a result it's easy to feel excluded a majority of the time. I
don't drink coffee with the java frat, I don't have a regular lunch-mate,
and I'm not one of those guys with a 8 to 5 girlfriend before going home to
the woman I legally exchanged vows with. (Note: Ask me to go out to lunch
and I will almost always happily accept - I just usually brown bag it to
save money and eat healthier) I had never questions anyone's motives for
wanting to be my friend until I started using MySpace on a regular basis.
Suddenly it was something more than just a place to carry out an innocent
experiment. I felt myself actually questioning my placement of my friend's
top eight (or sixteen) lists, and allowing that bitterness to sink into my
perception of my real world relationships with my MySpace pals as well. "Why
did this person not accept this friendship invite" or "Why did I get bumped
to the bottom of his page!" As I had previously become savvy to the ways of
the ass-kisser at Fox Sports Net, I have now come to understand the true
nature of the "social networking" set while working in an environment where
half of the day is spent blogging about the celebrity vagina du jour, the
celebrity couple a la mode, or the pregnant, heroin-addicted bulimic
celebrity super-model who's fucking them all. To those who call me a hypocrite due to the fact that I ran a blog primarily concerned with media (read: film), what can I say? I guess you got me there.

Needless to say my faith in humanity has been properly soured by the state
of things both trivial and genuinely newsworthy - I've always thought that
if the cancer hadn't killed him Bill Hicks would have suffered a fatal
cerebral hemorrhage in our post-9/11 society - throw a newborn into that and
you've got a real recipe for some serious introspection. I'm beginning to
question things, and MySpace has come to represent ideas that hold no value
or appeal to me on a personal level. I did begin to feel this way one
before, and that time I simply delete my account without an explanation. Of
course the True Extremes website with remain up and active (I do still
believe that MySpace is great for budding filmmakers and musicians), so
anyone wishing to contact me can certainly do so with ease. If I'm not
there, try "jasbuc@gmail.com". To my friends on here and in flesh-and-blood,
your kindness and companionship has truly earned my undying loyalty and my
love for you runs deep - we'll have to get together soon for some dinner,
pool, a movie, or maybe just some outrageous baby action. We can't wait for
everyone to meet our lovable lil' milk barfer. To my "friends" on MySpace
and those who care not to really establish any more than a broadband
connection, take care and be well. I think I'm going to start my experiment
over again - this time with a few kid flicks alongside the Cannibal
Holocausts - on a different website where popularity doesn't factor in to the equation to the extent that it does here. To all, I'm sorry it took me so long to make up my
damn mind about this silly little sight.

Cheers,
J

A funny post-script concerning my return to work today. Of course I was reluctant to leave my daughter for the first time in nearly two weeks, but on the same token I was also excited to see my friends and colleagues after an extended leave from the office. It was interesting how a momentous event such as childbirth pretty much forces a person to re-evaluate their interpersonal relationships whether they wish to actively do so or not. Packing my bag to leave for the day a "friend" and co-worker who I've spent a fair amount of time hanging out with outside of the office breezed into my section of the cube to drop off a DVD for my cube-mate, offering what just may have been the coldest "welcome back to work" greeting I think I've ever had the displeasure of receiving (a curt "hey" accompanied by what seemed to be a concerted effort to avoid eye contact), and only after I greeted her with a smile and a hearty "hello." I couldn't have been more offput by this individual. In the past I had done my best to offer friendly consolation when her when her cat died, and even offered support and relationship advice when she had man troubles. Never in my entire life had I been more convinced of the fact that when all is said and done, the vast majority of people really are just selfish, self-absorbed fuckwads. It truly was just weird. Now I'm not saying I wanted her to run over, do back flips, and give me a hand job simply for doing my part to contribute to overpopulation, but scheese, at the very least it would seem that a friendly "welcome back" would be in order on such an occasion considering our friendly past. After all, I had went to movies with this person, attended a concert with this person, and she had even been to our house to watch a movie with close friends. Ah so, whachagonnado? I guess some people just can't be bothered.