Technology, you need to calm yourself down.
Am I the only one who’s done with this break-neck speed we’re traveling in the technological world? I mean, hey, I’m all for human advancement. Bettering ourselves, broadening the horizons, creating things our ancestors never would have dreamed about – sounds great. But when everyone else is tweeting, swiping, and freaking out about the retina display on the new Macbook Pro, I’m still wondering what happened to Myspace, pining after my flip phone, and repeatedly pressing the power-button on my long-dead Dell desktop. Literally, the simple fact I can somewhat upload to Her Campus is a minor miracle; every time I want to post something new, I just log onto the page and start randomly pressing buttons until something happens.
However, rather than trying to better myself, I’ve resolved to simply criticize everyone else, (thus slipping deeper and deeper into technology-ignorance, and becoming one step closer to becoming a brooding, type-writer-obsessed, creative writing major living in her parents basement. Win?).
Let’s start with this new iPhone. The iPhone 5. Everyone’s bursting with excitement, talking about a longer screen and better operating system and a bunch of other acronyms that I don’t really understand. The only thing I can think about is the camera. That camera, with that app, linked to that social media site. Yes, you’ve got it. I’m talking about the spawn of the devil…Instagram.
Seriously, let’s take a step back. Somewhere back in 2009, we, as a society, decided “selfies” weren’t cool anymore. We finally realized that people actually notice that when you’re standing in the dressing room at the mall, sucking in your stomach, in some outfit you’re never actually going to buy, with your cell-phone held out to your right side as you hope you can crop it out later, the picture is slightly posed. The lip-puckering, bathroom-mirror-monopolizing self-indulgent form of expression finally died, and the world cheered.
Yet, somewhere in the heavens, the technology Gods laughed. And then gave us Instagram.
For some reason, the selfies we deemed inappropriate only a few months earlier suddenly became socially acceptable as soon as we could make them sepia-fade-blur-backlight. Or contrast-brighten-crop-antique. I’m really struggling with this logic. If we can download an app to make us act like fake graphic artists, then we are suddenly allowed to plaster poorly edited pictures of ourselves all over the internet. Does that seem right?
Yet, it isn’t just selfies. The Instagram sensation has taken every single mundane thing someone might just happen to see through out the day and turned it into a work of art worthy of spamming your peers, acquaintances, and random people on the internet who are probably trying to stalk you. Banana in your cereal? Add some backlight and you’ve got a still-life. Textbooks arranged in size order? Black and white that with a blurred edge and suddenly you appear intelligent and creative. Dog sniffing around in your front yard for a place to sh*t? Brighten and saturate the colors and you’ve created a representation of the undying human quest for relief, anthropomorphized.
To help those Instagram-obsessed who are oblivious to my scathing sarcasm, I’ve created a simple table to aid your photo-taking addiction. Feel free to print it out, frame it in your bedroom, or tattoo it onto your arm.
You just Instagrammed: a picture of your half-eaten sandwich
You should have Instagrammed: a picture of something what was edible at the Rat.
If I’m on the internet, there’s a 70% chance I’m trying to decipher the Rat’s twitter stream to decide what to have for lunch. Don’t entice me with off campus food, I can’t afford that. Show me what’s good on campus (is that an oxymoron? Perhaps.), and everyone will be happy.
You just Instagrammed: the back half of your cat as she tried to get away from you by hiding behind the couch
You should have Instagrammed: your roommate’s reaction after your placed said cat on his face while they were napping.
Here’s the thing. If I want to see a picture of an animal that is probably cuter than yours anyways, all I need to do is go to Google Images. The only reason I want to see your animal is if it’s doing something hilarious. Preferably to someone I know.
You just Instagrammed: your upper thighs, with a pool/the beach as your backdrop and the caption “loving the sun!” as some sort of justification that you’ve just produced porn for people with foot fetishes.
You should have Instagrammed: a picture of the hot guy at the pool
First of all, if there’s a picture of a pool or a beach, I’m going to assume you’re at the beach. You don’t need to included a part of your body to prove it to me. Secondly, I already hate you for being at the pool/beach/outdoors while I’ve taken up permanent residence in one of the cubicles in the library. If you can’t offer me something to legitimately distract me from my reading, I don’t want anything at all.
You just Instagrammed: a selfie
You should have Instagrammed: Nothing.
For the love of God, stop taking pictures of yourself. UNLESS YOU ARE A SHIRTLESS MALE MODEL WITH A BODY OF A GREEK GOD, IT IS NEVER APPROPRIATE.