Die Antwoord vir Facebook

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I’ve been listening to a lot of Die Antwoord lately because as a late-30s, married Hispanic male who only drives Japanese imports, I’m obviously their target demographic. Like every single one of my friends, I hadn’t heard of Die Antwoord until I saw them in Chappie. Then I checked out their music and got seriously hooked. Now I can’t stop watching their videos and blasting Doos Dronk every time I get the weepies. Wait, no, that doesn’t sound right. It was while listening to Doos Dronk for the 117 thousandth time that I boarded a train of thought that went straight to HateMyself-ville. I’ll explain.

I’ve been falling out of love with Facebook for almost a year now, probably since the run-up to the election. I tried several times to make it work for me by hiding people who posted nothing but gun porn, by only posting haikus, and penultimately (?), by simply withdrawing from posting, commenting, and liking altogether. Then came Cambridge Analytica and several days in a row of logging into Facebook and being presented with what I’d call absolute garbage.

So I deleted my Facebook account. And Instagram. Same difference.

Back to Die Antwoord.

I’m sitting there rocking out (every Fok jou by Yolandi makes me smile) and thinking about how since Die Antwoord is a South African group and the company I work for does business in South Africa, there’s an outside chance that I could one day travel there and maybe see Yolandi and Ninja in concert (provided they’re not too big to play SA anymore).

This thought made me happy.

I imagined myself flying over there, helping out a customer during the day, then changing into my J-Crew Punk Outfit to head out to the concert. I thought about the heat and the alcohol and the music and the drugs and the danger.

These thoughts made me happy as well.

But then, I imagined the stage and me getting close to it to snap a selfie. Ooooh, I thought, I can post it on Facebook to show everyone how cool this thing is that I’m doing.

That thought did not make me happy.

I’m currently reading a book about relationships (I do my research), and the author mentions the connection between adoration, admiration, and Facebook, and how social media can create unfair standards for couples to live up to. Adoration and admiration are both emotional needs (See: John Gottman), and the feedback we get from Facebook is so intense (comments and likes) that no one person could possibly compete with it.

Over the last decade, I’ve totally developed a need to entertain because being entertaining garners the most positive attention. Comments and likes are validation. And don’t me started on the laughing emoji or the coveted wow! I’d been off Facebook for only a few days when I read about this idea of unrealistic adoration standards, but it made sense to me. It makes me wonder how it affected my past relationships.

Since deleting my account, I’ve been spending more time interacting with people in person. And also emailing. Not everyone likes that. As my graphic artist Lauren put it: This personal email thing is weird.

And yeah, it’s a little weird because it’s much more personal (intimate minus the sexual connotation), and Facebook has more or less killed intimacy. Everything we do is now out there for the world to see and measure and buy. Conversations about Trump or Die Antwoord are never just between two people anymore; they’re publicly posted on walls for extended acquaintances to comment on.

Personal is good. Intimate is good. In just a week without Facebook, I’ve already rediscovered the joy of interacting directly with people.

I don’t need to know what my 8th grade typing teacher (Hi Mr. P!) thinks of my photos from a Die Antwoord concert. I’d want to know what Dom thinks because I know she would be proud of this socially anxious novelist travelling to South Africa to attend a concert. And really, as my wife, she’s the one who’s committed to giving me the adoration and admiration that I need to be happy.

That’s not to say family and friends can’t provide you with that as well. They absolutely can. Finding Die Antwoord fans among my friends (strange no one has brought it up) is a lot of fun as we discuss which song is the best and which video the most disturbing. But all of that has to happen directly.

Intimately.

I don’t miss Facebook, but I have missed these direct connections. I’m looking forward to reestablishing relationships that can’t be used as data points for advertising and political influence. I’m going to reconnect with my friends and family and fellow JKD students and fellow writers and everyone else who have been just pictures on a website for far too long.

And that thought makes me happy.