I don’t understand social media. A few weeks ago the top story on all the websites was that Facebook and Instagram was down. I couldn’t believe this made the news. People not being able to post what they had for breakfast or put up a selfie.

Lisa and my kids told me people depend on Facebook and Instagram to communicate. Business is done, thoughts shared, it is plenty of people’s lifeline. I find it difficult to believe that we have come to depend on technology that seems to divide us socially sometimes but politically always.

I hate Facebook. It makes me feel sad. Lisa has a Facebook page. I looked up some of my old friends and most have become right wing conspiracy theorists. I wasn’t surprised considering how we grew up. Still do they have to be fed a constant stream of bullshit due to an algorithm that provides them information  with like minded idiots.

In the old days we all started out as racists and then we met people that changed our minds. It could have been school teachers or friends, immigrants we met at the store or fishing at the lake.

Facebook doesn’t put you in touch with ideas other than your own. There is no growth in that algorithm.

I have had a blog since 2004 in one form or another. It has only served one purpose. I started it after getting the boot from the newspaper I started. I wanted to show the evolution from a small town to a small city. As for the photos, I only have one criteria, to freeze something I would like to see later when I can’t get out to see. 

In the beginning I used to write stories to try to document the way things are changing. It made for a popular blog, but I wasn’t popular with my family who feared the stories would get mixed up with our personal life.

I was trying to create stories that were like the great Southern Gothic stories I had read. These stories by Faulkner, Brown and others are out of style now. When I drove in on the backroads it was these stories I thought of. I tried to create Kootenay Gothic. Where the protagonist tried his best but always succumbed to self destructive forces.

Of course this didn’t sit well with my family that mistakenly thought I was writing about myself. Oversharing they said. So I stopped it.

My blog now is a few pictures of the night sky and birds when I can see them. It really isn’t that interesting. I don’t think I could write a story if I tried now.

Back to social media. 

It seems everything is on the table. Our deepest secrets, depression, adulation, aspirations, our best side, our worst side. Instead of being addressed to people that can help us, it is shared to people mucking about in the same misery. That’s not the way it should be.

It’s standard practice, even considered normal, I don’t understand it. That’s social media. I’m getting old. Maybe it will be passed around for a few likes.