If you aren’t aware of Pokemon, then you’re further out of the loop than I am, and I’m talking about something that seems as if it hasn’t been relevant in years. But as social networking has become the most important thing ever, the metaphor that Pokemon has so profoundly explored becomes more and more impressive. What am I talking about? I’ll explain.

Gotta Catch ‘Em All

The Pokeball is the standard method of catching Pokemon.

The basic premise of Pokemon is that you “Gotta catch ‘em all”. This, oddly enough, is the same premise with social networking. The more friends you have, the more people who like what you’re promoting, or the more people that comment on your status updates, the better. The more different types of people, mindsets, and backgrounds you have, the more likely it is that you will reach someone who understands you, wants what you are selling, or can provide assistance in a situation. Pokemon knew this before Myspace was even theorized.

The Pokedex

Now, you have lots of Pokemon, but that’s not very helpful without some form of organization. To combat this, Pokemon gave us something called a Pokedex. It has random bits of information about each of the Pokemon, such as their weight, size, and type. Myspace and Facebook have similar things called profiles. People fill out these profiles and say their age, professions, relationship status, likes, dislikes, etc. This allows you to know who you are targeting or which Pokemon to use in any given situation.

But you can only use six

Seriously, Magikarp does nothing.

Pokemon originally had 150 types of creatures that you could catch, but you were restricted to using six at any given time. Originally we thought that this was because the scope of the game would be obscene if you could use all 150 at once, but that wasn’t it at all. Pokemon was creating a top list. Social networking sites mirrored this later. Myspace, for example, originally allowed you to pick eight friends that would be listed as your top friends. Why would they do that? It seems like you’re just isolating all of your other Pokemon. But, it makes sense. Just as with your real life friends, experience is only gained when a Pokemon is used in battle, and you learn to trust, love, and depend on specific Pokemon. When you choose your six Pokemon, or your eight Myspace Pokemon, you’re really just saying that these are the friends you trust to fight for you. Sometimes, you change up the order because you hope that another Pokemon can become useful. Sometimes, your friends are just Magikarps (Pokemon #129)that refuse to evolve and can only use splash.

A metaphor for friendship

It’s not just a metaphor for social networking. It’s a metaphor for friendship. You should go out and catch ‘em all. Catch all the friends you can, because sometimes a lame Pokemon like Metapod will evolve into Butterfree, and then you win the game. Sometimes your worst enemies become your best friends. And sometimes, if you’re really lucky, one of your Pokemon will make you peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.

I have a love/hate relationship with social networking sites. While they provide the ability to maintain contact with people that you wouldn’t otherwise have contact with, they also seem to become the main method of communicating with people you would otherwise have a real relationship with. Why call a person when you can write on their Wall? Why visit a person when you can respond to their every tweet? Social networking becomes a way of saying:

I’m vaguely interested in your life, but not enough to put forth effort into making an actual connection.

At least social networking is only 3x as popular as human interaction.

This isn’t a bad thing on its own. After all, many of your hundreds of Facebook/Myspace friends don’t deserve more than a two sentence comment. Most of them don’t even want to know more than what your status and moods are. There is nothing wrong with that. What starts demeaning relationships is when that becomes your only method of communication with the world, including the friends that you once would’ve talked to on the phone or seen in person.

Why does this happen? It’s easy. Phenomenally easy. Take, for example, a friend’s birthday. Facebook will tell you when someone is getting older. If you’re happy that they’ve aged another year, you can immediately write on their Wall telling them so. Within fifteen keystrokes and a couple clicks of the mouse, they’ll know that you wish them a “Happy Birthday!”. Your obligations as a friend will have been fulfilled, and everyone on Facebook will know that you care enough to spend 30 seconds on them.  Or you could text them, which is slightly more personal. Or you could call them, which takes actual interaction. Think about it for a second. Which of these are you most likely to choose?

It comes down to effort. The more personal your attempt to communicate with a person is, the higher the effort. Leaving a message on a website is instant. A text is slightly more effort. Calling a person means you might actually have to spend some time talking to a person. Of course, you could get lucky and just get their voicemail.

The more this becomes an acceptable way of dealing with people, the less meaningful relationships will be. When you have a conversation, you create a unique experience with that person. When you know a person by their status updates, you have the same experience that everyone else does. You never have an intimate interaction. Without mannerisms, tone of voice, facial expressions, and even touch, you really can’t know a person. You can never be friends. You’re just text.

At least you can always talked to stuffed animals.

Which is fine for the hundreds of people you don’t really care about. But for the ones you do? Don’t forget to make the effort. Because when you ever stop making the effort, not only will you be treating your friends as if they’re not worth a call, but they might realize that they actually aren’t.

Call me daft if you wish, but Robert Smith is a hero. Why? Because he is one of the few musicians from my childhood to withstand the test of time, whilst keeping his persona intact. And I’ve always admired the celebs that have an amazing career and life, while being able to (mostly) keep out of the spotlight of shame.

If you haven’t figured out by now who Robert Smith is, he’s the lead singer of the British band The Cure. Remember them from the 80’s? They are the ones responsible for bringing us such delightful songs as Close to Me, Boys Don’t Cry, Disintegration, Friday I’m in Love, Lovesong (yeah 311 didn’t write that one folks),Why Can’t I Be With You?, Lullaby, Fascination Street, and The Love Cats… The latter four being my favorites of long time past.

Smith is the only constant member of the band, since its inception in 1976. This time around though, the line-up consists of Robert Smith on the mic (also the guitar, bass and keyboards when needed), Simon Gallup (another musical hero of mine) on bass, Porl Thompson on Guitar, and Jason Cooper on the drums. The boys from Crawley, England released their 13^th studio album, in 2008 entitled 4:13 Dream.

Apparently, 4:13 Dream was originally intended to be a two-disc album, having a whopping 33 songs recorded songs for the release. Robert Smith said that this album would mostly comprise the upbeat songs, and that the darker songs would maybe be released on another album. This is good for two reasons I believe: First, I believe that there is music for every mood, and that The Cure has done a surprisingly good job at making me feel more upbeat (take The Love Cats for instance on the album Japanese Whispers), and second because this means that we have not seen the end of The Cure.

Through the bands MySpace page, the band announced that in the four months before the album was set to be released, every thirteenth day of the month, a single would be released. This would coincide with the album’s title. Unfortunately, the album was pushed back from September 13^th, to October 28^th by Geffen Records, killing the amazing idea. But to make up for this, on September 13^th, the band released the EP Hypnagogic States. This EP was a cd of the remixes of the four singles released in the previous months.

From left to right: Gallup, Cooper, Thompson, and Smith...with the lipstick..

Anywho, I’ll end my usual digression and get down to the nitty. Here’s what I can say about the album from a general standpoint: Old fans of The Cure will feel right at home, as the band keeps its same vibe of calm but complicated, while showcasing that the band hasn’t stopped moving forward since its creation almost 30 years ago. Robert Smith still has that wild singing structure that hasn’t made a compromise for, despite the flak he may have gotten over the years for it.

For the new listeners, I can say that this is as good a time as any to get into The Cure, and still feel like you are a fan of times past. Why you say? According to Robert, 4:13 Dream is chock full of songs that were written over a decade ago, that didn’t make the cut for other albums at the time (such as Sleep When I’m Dead, originally written for the album, The Head on the Door in 1985). This way you can feel at least semi nostalgic, and not lie to you and your friends when you claim “Yeah I’m a fan of their old stuff too”.

Some people feel as if this cd was taking the safe road in its production, but I think this is just as Cure-ish as anything. As my fellow writer Gunfart said, “So this album is basically The Head on the Door part 2”. The production seemed much better than past albums in my opinion, probably because I’m used to listening to the 80’s songs of theirs, and frankly, recording technology has advanced just a bit.

As far as my favorite tracks are concerned, the intro track Underneath the Stars was amazing, with pure instrumentals for the first two minutes. The guitar on track 7, The Hungry Ghost was very comfortable for me, and carries the song beautifully. Track 11, Sleep When I’m Dead may have been written for an album over 20 years ago, but it’s right at home on this album. I didn’t know it was an old song until after I was in love with it, but my feelings have not strayed. The 12^th track on the album, Scream, was interesting, because I felt like it had a Middle Eastern tone in it. Weird I know, but I was diggin’ it and don’t disagree. Still though, the song that made this album one of the best of the year for me is track 8, called Switch. For me, it managed to be upbeat, dark, and beautiful all the same time. The lyrics are some of the best Robert has written, and are the definition of feeling, without leaving you asking what it’s about. Listen for the subtle piano played by Smith throughout the song, to remind you that as “sick of being alone with himself” as Robert is, the song is something I don’t plan on being sick of anytime soon.

4:13 Dream is what making a legacy is all about. Old bands like The Cure are keeping it more fresh and exciting than the failed marriages of Southern California, with twice the work. Go grab this album; it may very well save you. You can thank me later.

~Flak

Her name was Megan Meier and she was just 13 years old.

Megan Meier

I’m sure many of you have heard something about what I’m talking about here. The 2006 Myspace suicide and the ensuing court case. Though how many of you knew the little girl’s name? I didn’t. Not until a few days ago when I was reading about the outcome of the trial.

And for those of you completely in the dark, here’s a short summary:

Megan, and a girl named Sarah Drew, were longtime friends and neighbors, living in O’Fallon, Missouri, only a few houses down from each other.

As is the case with most teenage BFF’s, they had a falling out and Megan apparently called Sarah/started a rumor claiming that Sarah was a lesbian.

Sarah told her (then) 47 year old mother Lori Drew (the devil takes a name), and Lori’s (then) 18 year old employee Ashley Grills about the incident.

The three then conspired to create a fake Myspace account under the guise of being a 16 year old boy named “Josh Evans“, in the hopes of finding out what Megan was saying about Sarah.

“Josh” and Megan began having an online relationship which lasted about a month.

The relationship ended when “Josh” sent Megan a message telling her that “the world would be a better place without you. Have a shitty rest of your life.”

About a half hour later, on October 16, 2006, Megan hung herself.

It’s difficult for me to put my anger into words. It doesn’t manifest itself in a form conducive to the print medium.

Sickened, disgusted, outraged…these are mere words that don’t do my actual feelings any justice. What I really want to do is punch something.

Sarah knew that Megan suffered from depression. And she also knew that Megan had contemplated suicide in the past. She testified to this in court.

Apparently, there’s no criminal charge that could be brought against Lori Drew for her role in all this. This from an excellent Wired.com article by Kim Zetter:

That’s when prosecutors in Los Angeles sought to indict Drew, charging her with unauthorized access to MySpace’s computers, using a federal anti-hacking statute known as the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act. Prosecutors charged that Drew was guilty of the crime by violating MySpace’s terms-of-service agreement when she and her co-conspirators allegedly provided false information to open the account and pose online as the 16-year-old boy.

The case was tried in Los Angeles, because that’s where Myspace is headquartered.

A Place For Friends - The irony is not lost on me.

For the record, I do not fault Myspace in any way for what happened. These matters need to be policed by parents not multi-national conglomerate’s. The trouble is, Lori Drew is the parent. She makes a strong case for instituting a fascist regime where you need to be qualified, pass some kind of test, something, in order to reproduce.

My hometown Los Angeles jury’s are not known for their good judgement, having acquitted Robert Blake, O.J. Simpson, and the officers responsible for the Rodney King beating. They also acquitted Lori Drew last Wednesday of felony charges in the case, instead finding her guilty of three misdemeanors.

As much as I would love to run into Lori Drew in a dark alley, I don’t fault the jury. Nor do I fault the prosecution for the acquittal. The prosecutors were zealous, and wanted to bring this worthless excuse for a human being to justice. But, these charges, were in essence like going after Al Capone for Income Tax evasion. It would have been an abuse of the system and could have potentially opened Pandora’s Box had they been successful.

Where I’m left dumbfounded is in the realization that the prosecutors had to go to these extreme lengths to get Drew in front of a jury. How is there nothing, no possible charge at all that could have been brought against her? HOW?!?!?!

I leave you with this look at the gem that is Lori Drew from another Kim Zetter/Wired.com article:

Shortly after 13-year-old Megan Meier began corresponding with a new MySpace friend called “Josh Evans,” Lori Drew walked into a hair salon with a “funny story” about the unfolding hoax, Drew’s hair dresser testified…

In the first full day of testimony in Drew’s computer fraud trial, hairdresser Christina Chu described a 2006 hair appointment in which Drew — daughter in tow — boasted that she’d worked with her assistant [Ashley Grills] to set up a fake MySpace profile for the purpose of getting back at Megan for a fight she’d had with her daughter, Sarah.

“Mom, stop, you’re embarrassing me,” Sarah said, according to Chu.

Chu, who had a teenage child of her own, was so upset by the story that she had to retreat to the back of the salon, she testified, but not before telling Drew that what she was doing was wrong.

After Meier’s death, on the day of her wake, Drew showed up again to have her hair done. Chu asked Drew why she was going to the wake, given her role in the cyber bullying. Drew’s response, Chu said, was, “It’s not like I pulled the trigger.”

“It’s not like I pulled the trigger.” Not so much as an ouch of remorse. It is with that same melancholy and disdain that I hope to one day report to you in these very pages that someone pulled the trigger on Lori Drew.

To say that I grieve for Megan’s family is to simply say I posses a soul. It’s to say that I’m alive, that I woke up today. How can anyone not grieve for them? I just can’t even begin imagine their pain.

I only hope that I’ve not done them any harm or caused any more hurt as a result of this article. It was not meant as mere content, nor as a soapbox.

My name is Lenny.

And again…

Her name was Megan Meier.