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Postcards from the Plebs: Tumblr
Jan. 25th, 2014 07:39 pmDear Tumblr,
You are a hot mess. I really expected something like Dreammwidth from you, you know nice orderly layouts that march one after another. Controlled, calm, soothing even. You are not these things. You are like some weird Dreamwidth/Pinterest hybrid. A Frankenstinian patchwork of a million people's ideas, a computer based stream of consciousness, a psychic, knee-jerk cacophony. It's so easy to lose perspective on your own contribution and be reduced to "ooo I like that," re-blog!
Originally I wasn't going to re-blog. I was happy to let other people's posts slide through my brain. It was a fun sensation and an interesting window out onto the media overload our society is experiencing. But then, I realized that in-order to comment I had to start messing up my own feed with other people's stuff. Well played, Tumblr, you and Pinterest are tied for incestuousness. A giant puzzle of stealing and posting what had already been stolen and posted a hundred thousand times before. Literally. I saw a post with 164,000 re-blogs and likes. I should be awed at the potential power, but it was a photo of Tom Hiddleston. This is what people are occupying their time with. Me too apparently because I stole it and posted it on Pinterest. I probably liked it too.
Kieron Gillen summarizes his Tumblr account with "Because there's a certain strand of nonsense that seems increasingly out of place over on the old Workblog." Yeah, I totally see that now. But, really it's not all the nonsense that gets me. That's fun, and filterable. It's the semi-illusionary sense of connection that's driving me crazy. I feel a need to comment and participate, but I am constantly left hanging, not knowing if things are being read, or if they are why aren't they commented on in turn? Not funny enough, or even worse maybe they sound stupid. It's every day putting on an impassioned speech to an huge,shadowed audience whose numbers you can't quite make out and getting nothing back. Tough crowd. Or maybe they read it, smiled, and moved on to the next sound bite. I'll never know. You're killing me Tumblr because I will never know.
That is all.
Sincerely, Psylynce
P.S I see you, one follower! I don't know how you found me, but hi!
You are a hot mess. I really expected something like Dreammwidth from you, you know nice orderly layouts that march one after another. Controlled, calm, soothing even. You are not these things. You are like some weird Dreamwidth/Pinterest hybrid. A Frankenstinian patchwork of a million people's ideas, a computer based stream of consciousness, a psychic, knee-jerk cacophony. It's so easy to lose perspective on your own contribution and be reduced to "ooo I like that," re-blog!
Originally I wasn't going to re-blog. I was happy to let other people's posts slide through my brain. It was a fun sensation and an interesting window out onto the media overload our society is experiencing. But then, I realized that in-order to comment I had to start messing up my own feed with other people's stuff. Well played, Tumblr, you and Pinterest are tied for incestuousness. A giant puzzle of stealing and posting what had already been stolen and posted a hundred thousand times before. Literally. I saw a post with 164,000 re-blogs and likes. I should be awed at the potential power, but it was a photo of Tom Hiddleston. This is what people are occupying their time with. Me too apparently because I stole it and posted it on Pinterest. I probably liked it too.
Kieron Gillen summarizes his Tumblr account with "Because there's a certain strand of nonsense that seems increasingly out of place over on the old Workblog." Yeah, I totally see that now. But, really it's not all the nonsense that gets me. That's fun, and filterable. It's the semi-illusionary sense of connection that's driving me crazy. I feel a need to comment and participate, but I am constantly left hanging, not knowing if things are being read, or if they are why aren't they commented on in turn? Not funny enough, or even worse maybe they sound stupid. It's every day putting on an impassioned speech to an huge,shadowed audience whose numbers you can't quite make out and getting nothing back. Tough crowd. Or maybe they read it, smiled, and moved on to the next sound bite. I'll never know. You're killing me Tumblr because I will never know.
That is all.
Sincerely, Psylynce
P.S I see you, one follower! I don't know how you found me, but hi!
