Unsocial Media

The wave of the future is supposed to be social media. You know, tweets, Facebook friends, etc. But for some people it seems to be the opposite.

You probably know what I'm talking about. If you know me or read my blog, you know I write a column for the Daily Camera, our local newspaper here in Boulder. (Yes, we still have one!) The online version of the paper, like many, allows readers to comment.

But most of the commenters use fake names. Most of them specialize in the clever put-down, the snide remark, the single-issue rant. Many like to push right to the edge of what is socially acceptable. If they go over the edge, no big deal. When they get banned from the site they can just create a new login with a new fake name. But you always recognize them, because it is the same style, the same rant, the same misspellings.

If you don't use your real name, you can't be held responsible for what you say.

Recently, there was a story in the Camera about one of these unsocial types. It seems this nameless person had infiltrated a Facebook group page, using the name of one of the city council candidates, and had been making rude comments about other candidates and commenters.

Well, the perp was banned from the group and his account was removed from Facebook. You'd think the story would end there. It didn't.

The person who created the Facebook page entered a comment on the Camera online story. Anonymously. Satisfied that the problem had been resolved, because the impersonator had been removed. And urging people to join the group (but using their real names) to discuss local politics.

I was, of course, curious. I like to talk about local politics and I have a Facebook account, so I quickly became a fan of this group.

If you are familiar with Facebook, then you know that their usage policy requires every account to be associated with a real person and to use that real person's name. So it was surprising to me that several of the commenters were using obvious pseudonyms. In fact, the organizer of the group was using his pseudonym to make comments on the page as well. There was no clue as to who the organizer was.

The comments were generally negative insinuating comments about certain council members/candidates. These people were using social media to make anonymous attacks on public figures. They were telling people it was in the spirit of public debate, but obviously they had an agenda.

As a fan of the page, I had the ability to post comments as well, so I started asking questions. Questions like, "Who are you?". And, "What is your source?".

It was not very long before I got de-fanned from the group and my comments deleted. So much for this group being formed for open political debate!

On the Internet, nobody knows you are a dog. But they sure as hell can tell if you are a jerk!

(Anonymous comments are welcome here, but comments with real names are even more welcome.)

Teach a Man to Phish ...

While hiking out in the wilderness, we startle a flock of geese. The geese fly up, and right into the path of a bird with the markings of a U.S. flag. One of the geese strikes the flag bird, which flies out of control into a tall tower. It craters a hole in the side of the tower, and smoke and noxious chemicals start billowing out. We need to get out of the area immediately, because the landscape is about to be destroyed. But, also, I'm late for a flight and I need to get to the airport or I'll miss my flight.

Suddenly the phone rings.

Crap.

Easter Sunday, and it was going to be my perfect opportunity to sleep in. My wife is out of town visiting family. Morning swim practice is cancelled for the holiday. And, with my dreams of a White Easter come true with an inch of fresh snow on the ground, plans for a long bike ride are out the window. A perfect day for Easter on my keister.

I pick up the phone and a recorded voice on the other end greets me:

This is a call for (my wife's name mispronounced) or (my name mispronounced). We are calling on behalf of (mispronounced name of our credit union) Visa credit card to verify a charge. If you are (my wife's name mispronounced) or (my name mispronounced) please press one now.

I press one now.

Please enter the last four digits of your social security number now.

I freeze for a moment. This is a call from my credit union, or someone on their behalf. They run free clinics on avoiding identity theft. Surely they wouldn't resort to asking their members to provide personal information to an unsolicited caller. But I definitely don't want my wife to be stuck in New Jersey with a blocked credit card. I hang up.

OK, now I'm really irritated. I know I'll never find out if I made that plane, but I try to go back to sleep.

Thinking about my dream, it really starts to creep me out. Of course, living in Boulder, I know lots of people who are convinced that the 9/11 attacks were a U.S. government conspiracy. An out-of-control flag, crashing into a tower, wreaking havoc on the countryside. Not to mention making people miss flights. Does this mean that I'm starting to be one of them?

I must have lain awake for an hour before I decided to get up. The phone rings again immediately. Same drill. I hang up again.

What are they thinking? On their suggestion, I would never respond to an unsolicited email and provide any personal information. We shred anything with our credit card number, signature, social security number, mother's maiden name, favorite color, childhood dog's name, or high school mascot. And now they want me to forget these rules, just because it's a low-tech telephone call and not high-tech email message.

Knowing there will be no response on Easter morning, I call the credit union's number from the back of my credit card. Just a recorded message, but there is a phone number to call to report a lost or stolen card. I try that one. But no, all I can do at that number is activate a new account or report a lost card. No option to verify a charge or talk to a person.

So that's it. I'm tired and convinced I'm (turning into) a kook. My wife is stuck in New Jersey with a credit card she doesn't know is going to be turned down. And I've lost my full faith in credit union.

By the way, here is an anonymous (meaning I couldn't find the author) expounding on the Confucius quote that inspired my headline:

"Give a man a fish, feed him for a day.
Teach a man to fish, feed him his entire life."

Give a man a fish? What fish? Trout? Scrod? Herring? Fresh-water? Salt-water? Pickled? Could you be more specific? Can one fish feed a man for an entire day? Depends on the fish I guess. We need clarification. And come to think of it -- what man? Who is this guy?

Now about this 'teaching a man to fish' nonsense. I don't have time to teach a man to fish. I have enough crap going on in my life. I have bills to pay. I don't need the increased responsibility of running a fishing class for grown-ass men who don't have fish.

There are a lot of tricks to fishing too. Selecting the right pole, the right reel, fishing line, hooks, bait. It's complicated! And he's going to have to put down a deposit in case he breaks something. Does he have a credit card? I'm not getting stuck with repairs. What am I, UNICEF? I should run a background check to make sure he isn't likely to cut my throat with a paring knife.

And I have to be honest; I don't know squat about fishing. I was raised in the city. My dad used to take me to museums, not lakes. We went fishing once. We didn't catch anything so we went to Vons. Grilled up some T-bone steaks instead.

But let's pretend I know how to fish. I'm a regular fishing expert. Where's this guy gonna go fishing? He's going to have to arrange for transportation. "...Teach a man to drive, get him to his destination his entire life." That's a little better. I can teach a man to drive. But what, I gotta rent him a car now too? Screw 'im!

About the best thing I can do for this guy is to teach him how to pick out a fish. You want a fresh fish - that's rule #1. It shouldn't smell. If it smells, the fish isn't fresh. Fresh fish should be kept on ice -- they go bad quickly. You also want a fish that's been cleaned, unless you already know how to clean it. Does this man know how to clean a fish? Oh, he knows how to clean a fish, but he doesn't know how to catch one? That's the trouble with today's educational system. They teach you half of what you need to know. That's not my problem.

This guy should become a vegetarian. In sixty-seconds I can teach him how to catch a celery.