People are asking, “What is Social Media Turning Us Into?”
Here’s one possible picture. 😉
One former Google project manager, Tristan Harris, once claimed that social media is “hijacking our minds.” Studies are revealing that social media inclines young people to depression.
This morning I read a thought-provoking article and decided to post the link here so you can read it, too, if you’re concerned about the overall effects of social media. Read Social Media Detox.
Christina Farr starts out saying, “I quit Instagram and Facebook and it made me a lot happier.” She tells how at one point she kept track of the time spent on social media — and it turned out to be a whole lot more than she’d ever estimated.
Does that surprise anyone?
I’ve never been on any of those social media, unless you count Linked-In, where I followed some writers’ groups. Finally I even gave that up, and GoodReads, which hasn’t done much more than take my time. The world is awash in book and wannabe writers trying to promote themselves — and some are quite successful, more power to them.
I’m probably one of those people who doesn’t manage time well, but at present it’s all I can do to post on my blog and follow some others, never mind all the Tweets, Twitters, Instagram, etc. that one can get involved in. Also, our church has always urged members to not get involved in Facebook and such-like.
If you can find a minute, do read this informative article, especially if you wonder how a person can survive without incoming messages. 🙂
An old BeeGees song comes to mind:
“It’s only words, and words are all I have, to take your heart away.”
to praise and honour you
to despise and insult you
to blame and incriminate you
to acquit and justify you
to inspire and encourage you
WORDS: Comfort or Cudgel?
Fandango’s prompt word for today is REPRESS
Words are our tools, with which we express, impress, repress
— or resist repression.
ME? A NAZI?
I was working at the doughnut shop one evening, doing a bit of clean-up during a slack time, when one of my co-workers, a young man in his early 20s, walked in. Totally off work and out of uniform, he strolled behind the counter — where he had no business being.
At almost the same moment the staff entrance door at the back opened an ex-employee strode in quite purposefully. He’d quit several months before, so he certainly had no business coming in that entrance. Age: mid-thirties, wearing a long black trench coat, he walked behind the counter like he owned the place and helped himself to a jumbo coffee. Then he turned and handed the first co-worker a fat roll of bills and left by the back door again. My co-worker pocketed the cash and remained standing behind the counter.
I was initially stunned. This was a flagrant violation of our rule about being on shift and in uniform when behind the counter. They were also displaying a major contempt for me — a contempt I’d often felt while working with either of them in the past. I didn’t see the need to speak, since neither of those guys were going to listen to a word I said. You don’t need to say one word to show your contempt for someone. I had a strong suspicion what this was all about, which made it all the more insulting. They were dealing right in my face, as it were.
A moment later I protested to my co-worker that he had no business being behind the counter in street clothes. Maybe he saw me as repressive because he lipped off with this reply: “What are you, a Nazi? Are you the Gestapo?”
I put on my best German accent and answered, “You haff to obey ze ru-els.” His response was a disgusted snort and he walked out.
Could I have claimed “defamation of character”? Since I’m not a racist nor a German, I could hardly be a Nazi. And since I’m not a member of Hitler’s private police, I couldn’t be one of the Gestapo.
Alas! We seem to be in an era where accusations are flying left and right without proof or legal repercussions. I’d better qualify that: unless the recipient of your vitriol is from some racial or ethnic minority or the remark is deemed to be sexist. My co-worker and I were both white and Nazi isn’t exactly sexist. So there I was.
Also without witness. He was always quite careful about that.
For some, the definition’s simple. “Anyone with rules I don’t like.”
In my understanding a Nazi is someone who belonged to the Nazi party in Germany, or at least subscribed to their political platform. Or someone who belongs to the new Neo-Nazi movement I’ve heard about. To my co-worker it meant, “I don’t like you or your ideas and I’m not going to listen to anything you say.” Which might include any parent, employer or worker who thinks their offspring, employees, or co-workers should follow the rules.
Ideologically, my rock-band-drummer-pusher co-worker and I were on opposite ends of the universe. “Nazi” was a handy rock to toss at me right at that moment. Maybe I shouldn’t complain, though. There are a lot worse verbal rocks flying these days.
Well, I have something in common with the US President now, seeing he’s often been called a Nazi. As far as actually subscribing to the Nazi political ideology or being a member of that party, I wonder if he’s any more of a Nazi than I am? I’ll leave that question to more informed people than myself, but to me the term seems to be saying, “I hate whatever he stands for.”
One thing I wonder: Do those folks who suffered such atrocities at the hands of the real Hitler and his real Nazis feel disgusted when we with such cushy lives sling this term around so freely?
WHAT’S A STUPID QUESTION?
I made a quick stroll around the internet this morning and stopped in for a discussion with Kristian (see Tales from the mind of Kristian) about the word STUPID. We’re in agreement: out with it!
If “I didn’t sleep a wink” and “It’s raining cats and dogs” are outdated clichés that must be avoided now, I propose we add the word Stupid to the list of outdated clichés and forget it. Along with Idiot and Imbecile. (Dough-head was one of my dad’s favourites.) You can probably think of a few more.
They’re only words, but cruel ones, and they’ve been around too long.
THE MOST HELPFUL WORDS
I visited J.S. Park’s blog this morning, too, and read his answers to a reader’s question about helping someone get through depression. “Working Through Depression As A Team.” His closing thought is worth echoing around the world. I trust he won’t mind me repeating it here:
What’s the Most Helpful?
Once in a while, tell a person you love them just because. No reason. Many of us who struggle with depression feel like we’re bothering everyone all the time. They need to know they’re loved in the middle of that. That’s a God type of love. “I love you just because.” That’s a really big deal, to be loved that way.
In life we’ll meet lots of people who sling angry words at us and point out our failings. Don’t we all wish for someone to come along side and just care? A friend who looks at us honestly and still sees a few good points, who encourages us and praises our efforts even if we’re down in the dumps? And to be a friend like that?
As the song says, by using our words wisely we can win hearts.
I know I haven’t been posting for awhile, but when ten days have crept by since the date of my last post, it’s high time to cease this indulgence of “just don’t feel like it,” and write something.
It’s not that I haven’t felt like writing. As the various prompts have come in, I’ve mentally written different articles and stories, but so far these have remained cloudy images in my mind. Maybe soon I can get some of them down. Too often I’m fighting with a sense of futility, that nagging doubt of “Who cares?” that besets us all from time to time.
The weather has been very mild lately. The chill of early October has given way to temps of 10 (50F) to 20 (70F) which is what we’ve had today. Nice day for a walk. this afternoon Bob and I got our flu shots, so we should be protected from the flu this winter.
I’ve done some piecing blanket tops for the Sewing Circle this past week, and read some second-hand children’s books that I picked up at Value Village. Proof-reading them with the thought of donating some to our parochial school’s library. For those who are interested in good children’s books, we’ve found a couple by Alexander McCall Smith that are very suitable:
The Mystery of the Missing Lion (2013) and Akimbo and the Crocodile Man (1993)
For those who are interested in adult fiction with a Christian flavour, I can recommend Sweet Tea and Southern Grace by Glenda Manus. In this first book of the series the main character is a 45-year-old bachelor pastor in the South dealing with various issues in his parish. The story has some similarity to Jan Karon’s Mitford series, but a shorter read.
Fandango’s prompt for today is ABSTRACT. I’m thinking now about Thankfulness, an abstract quality or emotion. We’re happy when good things come our way; we’re relieved when troubles don’t come our way. Then sometimes our thankfulness does a look-in-the-rear-view thing. My arms and hands, especially my thumb joints, have been affected by arthritis these past few days, which makes me thankful for all the times when they do function without pain.
When you stop to think of it, when we have arms and hands that work, fingers that obey the impulses our brain sends along, we have two invaluable pieces of equipment. How much do we think about that fact until this “standard human equipment” suddenly gives us grief?
Here’s another take on ABSTRACT. I came across this quote earlier today, it seemed rather profound, and I thought, “A perfect response to the prompt!”
“Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.”
The truth of this quote depends on what music you’re listening to.
This morning my thoughts went to the words, “the seat of the scornful.” And the inspiring poem, The House By the Side of the Road
David, writer of Psalm 1, gives this caution about who we choose to hang out with and where we sit down.
Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly,
nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.
The seat of the scornful seems to be a crowded place in this day and age — and maybe always has been. I must admit that I’ve occupied that spot too often myself. I’ll make a comment about something someone’s doing, then suddenly I catch an undertone of, “Well, I would NEVER do a thing like THAT.”
Judgement is not scorn. We need judgement. We need to be able to draw from our own experience and observing the experience of others to determine where to put our feet. We need to form sound conclusions for our own safety and avoid the slippery slopes others may be saying are “great fun. We don’t need to scorn them when they disappear down that slope into the mud puddle at the bottom.
Sam Foss has a great attitude and many have found his poem inspiring: Here’s the second verse:
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
Where the race of men go by-
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner’s seat
Nor hurl the cynic’s ban-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
Have a great day, everyone. 🙂
I don’t know who wrote this poem but it seems appropriate for this season. I get a little down when summer is gone and autumn is starting to fade away, too. I hate to see the daylight hours dwindle, the evenings get so dark so soon, the winds blowing strong day after day.
I don’t know about you, but I’m hit by a lot more more blue moods in fall and winter. So I find it’s good to have a verse like this memorized for times when my ooomph has deflated and I’m feeling there isn’t much hope for improvement.
You’ve tried and failed and down you tumble.
Your get-up’s gone; you sit and grumble.
The path of life’s just curves and hills;
the weather brings you coughs and chills.
But keep on trekking and you’ll get
to valleys full of sunshine yet.