I saw The Social Network yesterday. (And experienced a goosebumpy feeling when I logged into the Facebook after that!)
I consider myself a moderate addict. I have to check Facebook every single day. I consider it a part of my social life and I like the way human relationships, the concept of respect and reputation, of sharing and caring are changing with its dominance in our lives.
I don't for one reason believe that social and cultural websites are going to go anywhere. In fact they are here to stay. (Another fabulous social experiment on unsent letters)
However this post is not about how much I love social experiments on the web (that is going to be a tome in itself!). Its about the reasons we create social content. And in the case of Facebook it was very simply a man's ego and a girl's rejection. Did you notice how when faced with rejection, the first thing Mark does is to attack her physical appearance and her sexual escapades? In a conversation with Nitz, she remarked that the reason men seek control over women is because there is no paternity test from nature to determine fatherhood. A woman is a mother of a child because you can see that she is pregnant. What is nature's equivalent of the same for men? Do you know if there is a male equivalent of the word 'slut'?
It is no secret that the women clan are aware of that entity separate from a man-- E.G.O. It's like a personality in itself.
But as women we hope and wait for that one man who will give us the complete attention that we crave for. Just as I was thinking on these lines, Idea wrote a fabulous post on her blog about maintaining male interest.
Reproducing my favourite lines from that post :
"Compared to the average man, the average woman has a higher degree of attention coming her way from the opposite sex (sorry but that’s the way nature goes). She decides to trade in all that for one man, whose interest declines eventually. Most women do this and what’s more, do it willingly, joyfully and earnestly. So why do women put up with it?"
I keep wondering about the extent of conformity that we undergo as suckers for love. We may talk of individuality and detachment but secretly we want our loved ones to appreciate our actions, cheer for us, understand our needs and suggest the next haircut. Maybe the initial days are the ones when we undergo the maximum transformation. And for the memory bank its a fabulous, rosy picture to create.
So who are we? Just a set of sentimental fools looking to fit cozy photographs into the picture frames of life? Or level-headed individuals dying to take the mushy leap of faith ?