MySpace, MySpace, MySpace!

I’ve off-handedly voiced my opinion on MySpace before, and over the past few years it’s oscillated between “Oh, my gosh, I can’t believe people like this crap” to “Hey, there’s that guy I forgot existed!” to “No, I will not accept your friendship, Rock Band from Skowhegan” to “No, you did NOT leave me out of your Top 8! WE’RE THROUGH!”
Now, I have a few friends who are viciously against it, and even though their names are Traci and I love them, I look upon their nonconformist disdain with the same smirk of pity I used to reserve for people in high school that reminded me at every opportunity that they “just don’t like TV all that much.” These people are named Tom, and they now open conversations with me with zingers from the latest Family Guy episode.
MySpace isn’t as much of a necessity as e-mail, isn’t as helpful as Google, and isn’t as regularly hilarious as, say, Gorilla Mask, but it’s definitely an amusing way to waste some time, and isn’t that why we’re all here on the internet anyway?
Here’s the thing.
An old teacher of mine made the following comparison back when I took my Required Computer Class freshman year of high school. Of course, back then, the people who have elaborate layouts on MySpace now were eyeing the keyboard as if they’d just been asked to play an impromptu concerto on the harp, while the savvy, nerdy kids had AOL accounts and were proud of it. Our poor teacher was trying to tout the benefits of using the newfangled “browser,” Netscape, and point the AOL hipsters toward the light. He said using AOL is like riding a bus, whereas using a browser is like driving your own car. With AOL, you go where AOL wants you to go, and if AOL wants to stop the bus or crash into the side of a building and burst into flames, AOL will do it! Whereas if you own your own car, you can drive to the store, the library, your friend’s house, the porn shop, the free cialis mortgage penis enlarger store, ANYWHERE YOU PLEASE!
Of course, I used this new-found knowledge to “drive” myself to a forum during class (that I adorably called a “chat room.” Aren’t I cute?). I used every subsequent class to chat with someone named “JokerGuy,” who for some reason, thought I was 25, blonde, and really interesting. This was clearly before the days of firewalling or website blocking or any form of history monitoring in the school, but I was never able to tell if we didn’t have it because it was before the technology or if it was because my computer teacher was in the other room posting in the same forum under the name “JokerGuy.”
MySpace is the new Bus of websites. It’s a bus that plays any music you want, even — NAY, especially if your friends want to hear ANYTHING BUT your crappy taste in music. It’s a bus that can make you look like a king of web design for the small price of having a huge button at the top proclaiming “LAYOUT PROVIDED BY SEXY_VAJAYJAY’S HOUSE OF MYSPACE LAYOUTS!” It’s a bus that makes you wonder “If I have so many friends, why don’t I have ONE DAMN COMMENT ON A PICTURE I POSTED?!?”
Now, recently, as I’ve mentioned in the past, someone let it slip to the media that MySpace is a popular website.
Well, ever since then the Evil Media has been trying its darnedest to make MySpace out to be a cesspool of pedophiles and sexy, sexy young girls. The Evil Media hates a lot about the internet — especially the whole part about people paying more attention to it because of the (slightly) smaller number of commercials and larger number of people sharing interesting stories from the heart and not from the TelePrompTer.
Well, I have a message for you Media. MySpace isn’t evil. It’s just a smaller, easier-to-use internet. Pedophiles and sexy, sexy young girls are everywhere, but statistically more are gonna get it on via MySpace. It’s sad, but true. The same principle applies to the sheer probability of statutory rapes that happen at my cat’s scratching post versus the local children’s playground.
Do you see the math? Just because slightly more pedophiles and sexy young girls hang out at local playgrounds than at my cat’s scratching post, it’s easy to tout the numbers and act like the playground is to blame, when plenty of other normal people use the playground for playing and meeting friends and posting shitty Fall Out Boy lyrics and goddamn surveys in bulletins every fucking day. I DON’T CARE IF YOU LIKE SKIM MILK MORE THAN 2%! GET A FUCKING PERSONALITY.
I’m sorry. That got a little out of hand there. I’m okay now.
So there’s my MySpace-ifesto. It’s a necessary evil. Like, uh, I don’t know. IPods. You don’t really NEED it, but you’re not really gonna use a walkman, are you?

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