What's the fuss?
Wednesday November 29
9:49 pm
12 degrees
There's been a lot of press lately about MySpace. Occasionally {we admit it} we're a little behind the trend curve. So, we decided to take the plunge and find out for ourselves what parents are so darn up in arms about. So, off we went into the nether regions of the internet. And here we are warts and all.
If we could figure out how to use the interface, our page would be way more interesting. As it is, we're lucky to have a few blurbs and pictures. Friends? We needed the MySpace Help Line to figure out how to get friends. In spite of that, we have friends. Four friends. Yes, two of them are The Offspring, one is a friend and one is a friend of The Offspring whom we have never actually met in person. We've poked around MySpace and wasted a few hours that could have been spent cleaning the toilet or picking up dustballs. We see pages with over 100 friends! 100 friends! How can that be. Apparently, Friends sounds better than Acquaintences or Hangers-on. Mayhap our lack of friends has something to do with our decidedly arty and definitely unalluring photo. Would we have more friends if we showed some cleavage in the classic party pose? Whoever we stole this from has 144 friends {please don't sue us}! But, who is counting?
Our assesment? MySpace is the online equivalent of the Refrigerator Door.
Your friends walk in, check out what's posted on the 'fridge: favorite photos, random notes and messages and things to remember. It's messy, just like MySpace is messy--people just slap stuff up. Even the 'fridge has ads. See, there's the magnet for Al's Master Plumbing. Music? Well, we do have an old boom box in the kitchen. It's playing Chet Baker.
People can't comment on your 'fridge, but the comments on MySpace wouldn't qualify as profound. Actual quote"oh and saturday was really cute! haha :) i'll give you the details later" or "see you Saturday. Holler!" Yawn!
Bottom line? Our POV is: you gots nothing to worry about. Parents! Go get yourself a MySpace page! Have some fun! Stalk your children. Guaranteed to waste time and maybe even learn something along the way.
Now, if you'll pardon us, we must go to My Space, do some online mothering and put the smack down.
Listening to: Let's get Lost. Chet Baker playing on my MySpace page.
9:49 pm
12 degrees
There's been a lot of press lately about MySpace. Occasionally {we admit it} we're a little behind the trend curve. So, we decided to take the plunge and find out for ourselves what parents are so darn up in arms about. So, off we went into the nether regions of the internet. And here we are warts and all.
If we could figure out how to use the interface, our page would be way more interesting. As it is, we're lucky to have a few blurbs and pictures. Friends? We needed the MySpace Help Line to figure out how to get friends. In spite of that, we have friends. Four friends. Yes, two of them are The Offspring, one is a friend and one is a friend of The Offspring whom we have never actually met in person. We've poked around MySpace and wasted a few hours that could have been spent cleaning the toilet or picking up dustballs. We see pages with over 100 friends! 100 friends! How can that be. Apparently, Friends sounds better than Acquaintences or Hangers-on. Mayhap our lack of friends has something to do with our decidedly arty and definitely unalluring photo. Would we have more friends if we showed some cleavage in the classic party pose? Whoever we stole this from has 144 friends {please don't sue us}! But, who is counting?
Our assesment? MySpace is the online equivalent of the Refrigerator Door.
Your friends walk in, check out what's posted on the 'fridge: favorite photos, random notes and messages and things to remember. It's messy, just like MySpace is messy--people just slap stuff up. Even the 'fridge has ads. See, there's the magnet for Al's Master Plumbing. Music? Well, we do have an old boom box in the kitchen. It's playing Chet Baker.
People can't comment on your 'fridge, but the comments on MySpace wouldn't qualify as profound. Actual quote"oh and saturday was really cute! haha :) i'll give you the details later" or "see you Saturday. Holler!" Yawn!
Bottom line? Our POV is: you gots nothing to worry about. Parents! Go get yourself a MySpace page! Have some fun! Stalk your children. Guaranteed to waste time and maybe even learn something along the way.
Now, if you'll pardon us, we must go to My Space, do some online mothering and put the smack down.
Listening to: Let's get Lost. Chet Baker playing on my MySpace page.
posted by MadgeMc at 9:00 PM
4 Comments:
mama -- i can show you how to customize your page. it's a crap interface but it's not too hard to you, especially for a hacker like yourself
Can I get rid of the jittering annoying ADVERTISING!
I hate online ads.
You're friends with The Offspring? Lucky! Those guys rock.
And I agree that MySpace is mostly harmless, except for the whole setting-up-drug-deals and sexual liaisons thing. That is slightly worrisome.
Apparently, I have some more investigating to do. Ducking out, right now, to explore the dark side. . .
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