Life as a Status Update*
Myke is happy. Myke is horny. Myke eats dogfood. With the rise of the ubiquitous social networking website, Facebook, and the subsequent decline of the originator, MySpace, a new trend has emerged: Life as a status update. From the minute you sign up your Facebook account, you can beguile the world with your compelling personal narrative, your daily drama, and the general minutia of your life. Thus Facebook users were compelled to fill in the blank after “Myke is….” But in late 2007, users were freed from the tyranny of the "is," which has allowed us to expand our vocabulary of personal updates. No more Myke is angry, Myke is the shooter on the grassy knoll. All of a sudden, Myke can drink tea, Myke hates it when you rub his toes, Myke has never been to Burkina Faso. And so the sluice gates were opened.
For the active Facebook user, life has become a series of status updates. You wake up in the morning and immediately start composing your third-person narrative: Myke hates waking up this early. Myke prefers eggos to cereal. Myke should probably get some toilet bowl cleaner. Casual users will blend third- and first-person realities (Myke is losing my mind), which is somewhat confusing and hints at the presence of a third party. Who is this nefarious person who is losing your mind, and why did you lend it to him in the first place?
With the added flexibility of using your phone to access the ever-addictive Facebook, you can update your friends on the all-important activities of your day in real time, from nearly anywhere in the world. Myke is at a Pussycat Dolls show, Myke left his report at the office, and so on.
You can use these updates to facilitate all kinds of different functions. You can lie (Myke loves his job), you can come out of the political closet (Myke dreams of seeing Ralph Nader naked), you can subtly attack another user (Myke hates someone right now. A blonde guy who lives in Long Beach. Whose name rhymes with Donathan,) or you can experience that Albert Camus existential moment of laziness we all have with Myke is. You can write mini essays on the constant, pervasive nature of big brother (Myke was filmed in front of a live TV audience), or use the update as a stage for your innate wit (Myke has carbon footprint envy). You can insert yourself into classic song lyrics (Myke is the Walrus, coo coo kachoo), or you can hijack popular culture to express your feelings upon a subject: Mykie likes it!
Life is carried out online; relationships are formed and ended via the status update. Reactions can span from a quick laugh (lol), a brief comment (OMG! I didn’t know you liked Ralph Nader too!), a harsh response, to outright anger. Sadly, these updates have even aroused murder as in the case of the late Tracey Grinhaff, 42, of Sheffield England, who was murdered by her husband after publicly declaring her pending divorce via her status update.
Everything from the sacred to the profane, from the simplest detail of one’s life, to the profound revelations and attainment of enlightenment can be pared down into one- or two-sentence pronouncements. The bold, imaginative, uncaring, the humdrum—it can all be carried on the back of a well-composed status update. They define the parameters of our observation, and reveal where our interests lie. And judging from the frequency of our status updates (this, coming from a chronic updater,) there can be no doubt about our chief preoccupation: ourselves.
*Note: most status updates used in this post—particularly the one about Ralph Nader—are completely manufactured and are for demonstration purposes only.