rotten bananas

I’m a child of Web 2.0. Being 22 years old, I was attending college at the peak of the Facebook/MySpace/Xanga/LiveJournal revolution. And I fought it. I fought it tooth and nail and never succumbed to its cold, heartless grasp. This is for a number of reasons. Firstly, it’s common knowledge that these websites have become little more than a worldwide popularity contest. How many friends do you have? I really couldn’t care less. In fact, I’ll probably be offended if you try to tell me.

I cringe at Xanga links. When somebody’s aim profile suggests that I read their LiveJournal page, a piece of my heart goes out to every disgruntled postal worker that just couldn’t take it anymore. People will share the most private parts of their lives with anyone willing to listen, but can’t manage a standard face-to-face with a friend. I much prefer this method to wasting my time reading neon green text on a black background blinking scrolling pictures of The Backstreet Boys, Beyonce and The Ataris. If there’s really something that I should know, you probably should have told me in real life before taking the time to post it online.

While stickin it to the man in my own little way during college, I can’t tell you how many people tried to sell me on these “services”. “You’re not on Facebook? You should be on Facebook!” was probably the most common response. I often questioned people further for a more elaborate response, but I rarely got one. Nobody could really explain why it was so great, just that it was. You get the same kinds of responses from burnouts when you question why they chose to get high instead of save the money for next week’s food.

I still get similar questions today.

The look that accompanies these responses is hard to describe. It’s usually comprised of a widely gaping mouth and very confused eyes. Confused eyes that sear with the deepest pain of men. I swear I couldn’t get a worse reaction out of them if I told them their parents were dead, and if I had, the first thing they would do is run home and write a LiveJournal entry on it. There is nothing sane about this, let alone reasonable.

*On a side note, I know that not all of these users are ridiculous. In fact, I know quite a few that actually use Facebook for its intended purpose: looking up girls you went to high school with to see if they’re still hot.

Now you’re probably confused. No you didn’t read the title wrong. I didn’t switch the words for and against in some bout of mind dyslexia. It’s not an oppositional disorder that I have against blog entry titles. Web 2.0 has brought along a lot of wonderful features as well. The whole user-driven content idea is genius. I wish it was my idea, as I’d be a very rich and lazy man. (As opposed to just lazy.)

Web 2.0 let’s me keep up with the latest news, and not just what CNN determines that to be (Britney on election day), via Digg. It lets me catch up on the latest writing of some of my preferred bloggers, like Seth Godin and Guy Kawasaki. It even let’s me create, share and save word processor and spreadsheet documents online. Web 2.0 is like any other tool. Some use it properly and some swing it wildly in the middle of a crowded daycare, casting blood stains of obnoxious colors and poorly tiled backgrounds all over the walls of humanity.

I remember a few years ago, someone suggested to me that the future of MS Office (and all other applications for that matter) was in the online world. I wish I could remember who, but they made the bold claim that entire office suites would run on some remote server, and I was appalled. That is the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. If I buy a piece of software, I want it on my computer. I don’t just want access to it. Now, I find myself preferring Google writer over Word or even OpenOffice, which is actually free.

The whole concept of having everything online is so freeing to me. I yearn to have everything I want available at all times, at all places. Just this past week my desktop went on the fritz, and it’s officially down for the count waiting for new parts. I’m not even hyperventilating. I haven’t cried once. I’ve got my laptop and I’ve lost nothing of too much importance. I don’t have to worry about how I’ll get my email, as I gave into the gmail phenomenon months ago, and It’s glorifying.

Now, here I am, posting to my blog. The movement that I fought so passionately a few years ago has taken me. I’m no longer one of the sole survivors, but amongst the cogs that assist an ATM in spitting out millions and millions of dollars to someone that was smarter, faster and probably better looking than me.

The comforting part is that it’s far from over. Where there’s a 2.0, a 3.0 (4.0?) can’t be far behind (Can there be a 2.5?). And while I should be on the front lines trying to define it, I’ll probably just sit here calmly and wait to see what happens with everyone else, so in a couple years when the latest and greatest is upon us, we can collectively sigh and mumble quietly under our breath, “Why didn’t I think of that?”