Friendster: Chronicle of a Death Foretold

I have been reading everywhere lately that Myspace is the trendy Friendster. I actually thought for a long time that Myspace was friendster for poor tacky people who eat chicken pot pie, that Facebook was friendster for jewish nerds and that linkedin was for suburban community college graduates. But now that Myspace is officially central to the kitty porn industry and that it scores almost every week articles in leading magazines (I started reading one in this month Vanity Fair while in my bathroom but did not go further than the first paragraph ...), it is clear that I was terribly mistaken. Myspace is indeed more promiscuous and hip than friendster.

Oh and I prove it, I ran a googlefight just to prove my point.

It is true that there is almost nothing going on friendster anymore, the only people who update their profile or add pictures are the leftover flawed people: the ones that could not find a long term relationship or a social life in the three years of friendster existence or the people who just met someone and are trying desperately to send hints to the other part of the relationship through their friendster profile. I suspect a third of the profiles are of people who died of overdose, suicide or H5N1 in the last three years (unfortunately the friendster type is your average melancholic druggie who eats Chicken Mc Nuggets). Even Kevin D. is getting laid on Craig’s List these days. Myspace on the other hand is apparently a very lively social website.

Sadly Friendster pictures are slowly aging, most of the gays had their quick gorgeous friendster photoshoots to use for their profile in early 2004 (for some it seems they had re-used 1987 pictures) and since then time, mortgage payment and routine sins took an heavy toll on them. Friendster has now become a gigantic Dorian Gray portrait: when I browse friendster my most common thought is “this kid used to be damn cute”.

The sad truth is that I have neither the necessary social life (I have spoken with a dozen people among my friendsters in the last 10 months and I merely receive a friendster message per week) nor the energy to work a Myspace profile. This does not let me any option but to live in the memories of the early immoral Friendster and to stay in my current relationship. I think I am going to have to sub-contract my Myspace profile to some dilettante college student.

Talking about gods and monsters.

Comments

[LL]

I have proof of FHC's dying friendster: the other day he resorted to logging on to another person's friendster page and sending himself a friend invitation. Of course, never overeager, FHC waited two days to accept.