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It’s Sad to Watch a King Die

July 3, 2009

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Can a website have a death rattle?  I’d like to think Myspace does.  A few years ago, I jumped on the social networking bandwagon with Myspace. It was a good time while it lasted.  I made a few friends, found some old ones I hadn’t talked to in years, and even met a few fine upstanding young ladies that are just as polite and reserved as can be.  Remembering the good times is what makes this so weird.  Myspace, you aren’t just dead to me, you are dead to anyone over the age of 12.  You used to be the king, the leader, the place everyone went to and now… you are a mere shadow of what you once were, a joke.  Facebook came on the scene and you stood fast in your smugness.  “Fuck Facebook” you said, “I’m fuckin’ Myspace!” you said.  Well look where that got you.  You refused to change, to evolve, to grow with the times, now all you are doing is trying to play catch up with Facebook much like the Simpsons is trying to do with Family Guy.

By the time you realized you were in trouble, it was already too late and the water was 5 feet over your head.  Rather than try to be the innovator again, you chose to be the copycat.  You donned your undeserved ninja garb and you snuck over to Facebooks house and sat outside it’s window, spying to see what was making it the cool kid on the block.  “Hey!  Facebook has apps!  I should have apps!”  So home you went with your intel, and you didn’t even try to pretend you weren’t sitting outside taking notes.  You didn’t try to take the idea and make it better, you copied Facebook verbatim.  “Facebook has Mafia Wars?  I’m gonna have Mafia Wars!”  Not only did you not even try to hide the fact that you were copying them, but you took so long to do it that by the time you got your apps out, everyone was getting bored with them on Facebook already.

This was when I first realized you were in the hospital with some sort of rectal cancer, hooked up to all manner of machines that were keeping you alive since your own internal organs refused to do so.  It’s in this condition I wonder how you were able to again don your ninja garb and go peek into Facebook’s window again.  Personally I don’t think you did, I think you sent someone in your place.  And what did that someone come back with?  “Hey Myspace, you don’t look so good, but I got some more info for you.  They have this bar thing that goes across the bottom of the screen.  It lets you chat with other people who are on Facebook, get quick access to applications, and lets you know when things have been updated.”  After several minutes of intense coughing up of blood and who knows what other fluids, you declared that you must have one too.  The only problem is, in your sickly state, you couldn’t figure out how to add the applications and notifications to it.  You did successfully mimic the layout for the IM though.

The point is, the surest way to tell when the leader is no longer in the lead is when it’s copying it’s closest competition.  Myspace, you have done this in spades.  You’ve layed your cards out on the table without even discarding the shitty ones to try to get better ones.  You gave up, and no one likes a quitter.  With the rash of celebrity deaths last week, it proved to me that I was holding a candle for you alone, and that I didnt’ even realize everyone else had left.  All week on my Facebook, it was a constant flood of memories and condolences for each and every one of those people who died from the people I connect with on there.  But how about you Myspace?  My bulletin board was completely devoid of such sad news.  All I found were people begging me to join their mafia and postings of people’s bar schedules.

So Saturday I made my proclamation,  7 days from that date I would be deleting my Myspace account and I let the world know it by posting a bulletin.  It is now 6 days later, and you know what?  That bulletin is still visible on my bulletin board without having to expand it.  It’s still recent news, 6 days later.  So tomorrow (Saturday), I’m pulling the plug on you.  It’s for the best old friend.  I can’t stand to watch you suffer, and deep down in your heart you know it’s the right thing to do.  When my Mom’s dog got cancer, she didn’t want to see her suffer anymore, so she took her to the vet, she got a shot, and she slipped away.  While you’re not my dog Myspace, and it’s not my place to give you that shot, it doesn’t mean I have to stick around and watch you suffer.  So I’m saying my goodbye’s now.  I’ll remember the good times and the bad, the hot chicks that wanted to be my friend (the real ones) and the hot chicks that also wanted to be my friend (the fake ones.)  I’ll remember the quizzes and the photo comments and chain bulletins that everyone fell for but me.  I’ll also remember the bad times too, because without the bad, you wouldn’t know the good was good.  So I will remember the glitter gif animations that say “sexy” and “juicy.”  I’ll remember the shitty bands wanting to be my friend even though I explicitly stated I have no interest in friending bands.

Myspace, it’s been real… and it’s been fun… but it’s time to take your sick ass behind the shed and give you some double barrel therapy.

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