We’ve all done it. Filled the little square on Facebook with vacuous gibberish, then hit “comment.” I won’t use any examples here, go to your Facebook page and you will see for yourself. No shortage of mindless ramblings that serve the basic intent of saying, “Hey, I’m alive. I made it through this crummy day. Just wanted everyone to know the emptiness in my head is worth sharing as much as my love for arcane references that make me appear smarter than I really am. Or cooler, which is the real intent.
Vaguebooking is not new. We’ve been vague for years, decades and centuries. But Facebook has turned vagueness into an art form to be relished next to the lofty blog and the seminal webvid. It is just so easy to do. The little words in the box – “Write a comment…” – is begging for your meatless entrée to be slathered into the trough.
“Go ahead, make my day.”
I used that one myself a week or so ago and received a rash of comments that filled out my nothingness quite impressively. I have equally added to the vagueness of others – and often. The pithy comment, the smart-ass retort, the equally vague assumption, I’ve shoveled my share.
It is addictive, too, this nutrition-less conversation. Looks great. Less filling. It has typeability. Vaguebooking is killing network TV. More people are vaguebooking right now, as I write this, than voted in the last 30 years worth of elections. So in effect, vaguebooking is more powerful than voting. Think about that for a minute. In fact, just to prove my point, I am going to post, “Think about that for a minute” on my Facebook page and see how many comments I get.
Vaguebooking says, “Im bored, maybe drunk, really tired, can’t think of anything clever to say, so I’ll toss out some vagary to chum the digital ocean and see if I get a bite. Sometimes I get several. Sometimes I get a pathetic ‘like.’ That’s what people do when they’re just too bored and tired to comment about your vagueness. Sometimes I get nothing. That’s the lowest of the Facebook lows. When no one comments, it’s a dark day below the little square picture I uploaded. If the answer to “What’s on your mind?” is met with silence, the inference is clear. What’s on your vague mind is not worth my vague time.
When your vaguebooking is ignored, it’s a sign that your life is no longer important to the people you thought were your friends. It causes vague feelings of self-doubt and comment envy. But if you look at it over the long term, it is all just digital toilet paper, easily wiped away with a click of ‘delete.’
The truth is, we want our vaguebooking to be meaningful. Sadly, it is just not built to take that kind of punishment. But even more sadly, these flimsy dollops of conversation are running the entire country, maybe the world.
Perhaps I should be less vague on my next post. But if I get too focused and actually say something with meaning, I lose my vaguebooking street cred. And we’ve all worked too damned hard to give up such a thing just because we want to post a concise, coherent thought.
Tags: Entertainment, Facebook, Internet