I gave my two-week notice on Facebook today — I’m hereby quitting. Two weeks to collect anyone’s e-mail or phone number I don’t already have, and I’m deactivating.

I’m tired of all the crowing, braying, posturing, fishing for compliments and “liking.” Facebook is the greatest ego-pump ever created. The biggest egos can now be inflated from 0 to 3,000 psi in one status update and a cascade of sycophantic “likes.” I don’t care what anybody “likes” and they shouldn’t care what I like.

And it’s spreading. Facebook’s founder wants “liking” things to be part of the basic structure of the Web. Of course, Facebook intends to collect all these things you like, match similar likes with your friends and bombard you both with targeted advertising.

So, they’ve found a way to turn us into secret salesmen. What progress! It’s like being turned into a multi-level marketer without even going to the hotel ballroom and getting the free trip just for listening to the pitch.

A brilliant business? Yes.

As Facebook described it’s “Instant Personalization” setting, I “opted in by default.” Now, I’m opting out completely.

I like this.

This morning, I dreamed that I was in an episode of the show.  The good guys used a mobile Wendy’s restaurant as their cover.  They tracked down some terrorists and defeated them by riding around in this full-sized Wendy’s on wheels.  When it was time to leave a location, the restaurant would pop off the ground and roll on to the next town.

When the episode ended, I had to walk to work in Raleigh on a road covered in snakes.

It’s sadly apparent to me that many people either don’t know about this, don’t understand the implications it has on human behavior or believe that it’s only a theory or opinion.   No.  It’s a law.  It’s a fact.  It doesn’t change.

First, we have understand that economics is the study of how to manage unlimited human wants in a world of limited resources. There’s only so much to go around.

Friends, I’ve taken it upon myself to create a basic supply-and-demand chart. We could be talking about any product that has value — from a wheelbarrow full of wood chips to a mammogram to a pack of chewing gum to a gallon of gasoline.   Anything.   Those are all scarce resources.  We are always trying to look for efficiency in economics — trying to reach an equilibrium between supply and demand.

At price of $0, the demand for our hypothetical item is unlimited, but supply is non-existent, because there is no incentive to produce the item.  (That incentive would be profit!)   At $2, you see that there is some supply, but demand is also reduced.  Our equilibrium is at $5, where supply is able to meet demand.   And at $10, there is plenty of incentive to produce supply, but demand is almost zero.

Now, let’s say an advertising campaign has increased demand for our hypothetical product.  The supply curve remains constant, but we shift the demand curve to the right.

The new equilibrium is found at $6 or $7.  Higher demand with a constant supply pushes the price higher.

But if a third party comes into the market and caps the price at $5 for our hypothetical product (perhaps through legislation), there is a problem.  The consumer might like the fact that his desire to have our hypothetical product has risen while the legislation has capped the price at $5.  But the producer, who still getting only $5 for something that naturally should cost $6 or $7, is not going to increase supply.

This creates a shortage.  That’s the red area on the chart.  It indicates the gap between lower supply and higher demand.   In time, there are a number of factors that may cause a producer to increase supply — maybe technological advance or changes in the prices of the items he uses to manufacture the product.  But in the meantime, expect a shortage.

Our consumer still loves the idea of paying only $5 for our hypothetical item — but they’re harder to come by.

Notice how the producer gains nothing in our model by keeping the price artificially high.  At a $10 price, the gap between low demand and high supply is called a surplus.  That means our producer will have a big dusty warehouse full of our hypothetical item, because it’s too expensive.

So, that’s how that works.

An ad from a Bed, Bath and Beyond circular.

I’m tired of the “Live, Love, Laugh” trend.  I saw this item in a circular yesterday, and it struck me as home decoration that will not age very well. In 20 years, that kind of stuff is going to look ridiculous.

It’s heavy speculation to hang words in the house.  For instance, the font could fall out of favor.  Think of how poorly popular fonts of the 1970s have aged.

Anyway, whenever I hear or read “Live, Laugh, Love” (or its verbose cousin “Live Well.  Laugh Often.  Love Much.”), I don’t think of it as a credo for how to live.  It always sounds like the tagline to a yogurt commercial.  I see families slow-motion-slurping yogurt in some fantasy land of golden sunshine and tire swings.

]]> http://www.brianshrader.com/2010/03/cheap-sentiment/feed/ 0 http://www.brianshrader.com/2010/03/convenient-evenings-together/ http://www.brianshrader.com/2010/03/convenient-evenings-together/#comments Mon, 08 Mar 2010 09:39:36 +0000 Brian http://www.brianshrader.com/?p=1055

This one slipped through the spam filter at work:

Hello! How are you? You would like to communicate with me? To me of 28 years and my name Victoriya. I from Russia, city Kazan ‘. I pass love in my life, and I wish to find it! I am a unique girl, good, attractive, intellectual, active and quiet, but lonely… I believe, that I deserve happiness as any person. How you think, – that the most important in this life? I believe, that you will agree with me, that the LOVE is that we search for all… I shall aspire to do my person happy, I thirst convenient evenings together where we embrace on a sofa and to speak words about love whisper… I have many interests in a life as reading, cookery, dialogue with friends, visiting new places and I investigate all new. I search for the responsible person, the one who can show me wisdom, love and attention which he has.

If you wish to study me better, I shall wait for your letter on mine e-mail:  victoriyahalturina@rambler.ru

If you will write to me I with pleasure shall answer all your questions as something inside speaks me, that something big and beautiful can grow between us…
Have a good time!
Victoriya

Have you examined lately what your friends have done to your life?

The premise: Facebook now rivals e-mail as the easiest way to communicate electronically with many people.  Among my friends — and I’m talking about people with whom I want to make plans regularly — a Facebook message will get a faster response than an e-mail.  This requires people to spend relatively large amounts of time on the site.

Clearly, spending that much time on Facebook lures a people to drink from their own stream of consciousness.  We’re treated to their momentary obsessions and fleeting thoughts searching for the quickest exit (in this case, through the fingers).   In the end, you get a whole bunch of nothing and scores of people who “like” it.  There are a lot of people seeking approval out there and as many others willing to give it.

I took action last month.  I instituted a policy to ban (later amended simply to “hide”) people who post random song lyrics as status updates.  I’ve already hidden three people.  I would hide everybody and use Facebook only as an elaborate e-mail, chat and event-management service, but it’s sometimes fun to look through the list of friends and see who has the least to say.   It gives me something fresh to talk about behind their backs.

The status update has become, perhaps, the lowest form of communication (lower than the T-shirt).  It’s worthless.  Your friends are wasting your time.  Don’t just sit there and take it.

I have revisited the show “Strangers with Candy” in the past few weeks.  I was a fan when it first aired about 10 years ago, and the episodes are fun to pull out and watch every few years.

It’s a show that’s full of boundary-jumping, wide-open, blatant crassness — and the returns are diminishing as I get older.  It’s still funny, but I mostly enjoy watching it now with people who haven’t seen it before and delighting in their shocked laughter.

When I was 20, a gasp was as good as a laugh.  At 30, I prefer the laugh.

First, I dreamed Rush Limbaugh showed me his two children. They were mostly air-filled and floating in a swimming pool.

I then dreamed that my mom and I had to fly to Boise, Idaho, to manage a circus for the weekend. We were flying on Southwest, and I was trying to write my name and address on one of those paper luggage tags at the ticket counter. But they all were TWA luggage tags and people had already written on them.

Later in that dream, I was in a St. Paul, Minnesota, motel. I saw a couple of dark-suited, sunglassed men stealing the contents of my room — including the motel’s furniture. My gut told me they were agents of some kind. As they were driving away, I jumped through an open window and into their vehicle. I put my hands over the driver’s face. He proceeded to show off his considerable memory by reciting which intersections were were crossing as my hands blinded him. I grabbed the wheel and crashed us into a house.

Maybe I’m not watching enough television.

I’ll probably remember 2009 for the recession more than buying my first house. This has been my first adult recession, and what a way to start! I spent the first six months frightened at the prospects of a collapsing economy and the second six months betting on its future health by buying a house.

What’s the worst that could happen?

I could starve to death, broken and penniless in the woods, I guess.

Being a homeowner isn’t really an accurate description of the situation. Better: I have an agreement with the bank to let me live here and do things while I pay for the house a couple of times over. I’m a stickler for the truth.

[Writer's note: On the radio right now, Don McClean's blabby, sickening "American Pie" is stinking up the airwaves. It's downstairs, and I don't have the energy to turn it off. So, if the influence of it's gassy lyrics and ham-fisted imagery drag this blog post to a watery grave, I apologize. Blame Don and your fellow man.]

There are two great features of the new place. It’s far enough away from civilization that I feel like I’m in the sticks. It’s 10 minutes from a grocery store, 10 minutes from a gas station, 10 minutes from a stop light. Marvelous! Spotty cell phone service, but quiet. It’s in a one-street subdivision, and every house is back in the woods. We all have the same idea. I enjoy hearing the distant pops of shotgun and rifle fire in the afternoons. I’ll take this over cookie-cutter suburbia any day. Every neighborhood I looked at reminded me of a beehive. I don’t want to live in a beehive.

I’m waiting to see some wildlife out here. You never know when you’ll have to pick off a squirrel for breakfast. Hey — I’ve already been through one recession, friend. You just never know what’s going to happen. So far, no wildlife, except for a neighbor’s bizarrely skittish dog. He’ll slowly walk up, sniff your hand or pants, then suddenly tear away as if you popped a bag in his face. I’m glad this dog is not a person, or I’d have serious qualms about living here. Something has come loose in his brain.

The other great feature is that the place came with three burn barrels! There’s no more natural place to spend time in a recession than huddled around a barrel of burning trash. It’s fitting and I love it.

Buying a house consumes a lot of your life, so I understand why new parents fall out of rhythm with the rest of us. Once upon a time, I was carefree and floating. Now, I’m measuring for weatherstripping and keeping a close watch on the electric meter.

Carry on to 2010.

I remember listening to a CD of the best radio spots of that year (1994), and I’ve never forgotten one of them. It was for some bank, which wanted to project a friendly, local feel. The spot had a parody jingle for “Behemoth Bank and Trust.” It sounded just like a bank jingle. Here are the lyrics:

When you walk into Behemoth Bank
Don’t expect a smile
Or a friendly “how do you do?”
‘Cause that’s just not our style

We’ve got a ton of money,
So why should we give a hoot?
We’re Behemoth Bank and Trust
And we don’t care about you.

It started Monday morning as an innocuous sore throat, but quickly descended into fever and chills by evening. I’ve been laid up since Monday night with some kind of hell cold. It faked me yesterday with a slight recovery before slamming me last night with another round of chills. I’m feeling better this morning, but there’s no doubt that I’m going through a double-dip health recession.

Last night, my nasal congestion settled into my throat, and I had the sorest throat on record. I was tired, but whenever I drifted off to sleep, some muscle in my throat involuntarily clenched and I’d suddenly wake up with a sharp, stabbing pain in my throat. Miserable. I finally fell asleep around midnight, but awoke at 5 a.m. I popped a Benadryl and just woke up from that fake chemical-sleep, so I feel like I’m living in Jell-O.

Realizing that something as insignificant as a head cold had me moaning in pain in a hot, sweaty bed all night makes me prayerful that I will not end up writhing in a death bed.

Fever dreams are bad enough, but when you combine it with a sore throat, look out. Every time you swallow, your body feels the discomfort, and I’m sure it incorporates that into the dream. Monday night, I had a lengthy, frustrating fever-and-sore-throat dream about selecting a dining room table. I don’t remember the details, but the dream world made it impossible to select an appropriate dining room table. It had to do with angles. This is the third fever-and-sore-throat dream I’ve had that involved insoluble math problems. This is telling.

Of course, sick days are full of attempts to entertain yourself and whiling away the hours of quiet despair. Netflix provided the foundation of my entertainment. I added some things to the Instant Viewing queue and watched them in bed with the Roku player, which is the finest electronic device on the market today. Monday night, I enjoyed a couple of “Dragnet 1967″ episodes, some Jack Benny episodes and the movie “Network.” It was the first time I’d seen “Network,” and I really enjoyed it. What a pleasure to watch Robert Duvall being angry.

Yesterday morning, I watched all of the “American Experience” series on FDR and the first episode about Truman. The story of Franklin and Eleanor’s marriage is a real tragedy, and it brings into focus Hillary Clinton’s interest in Eleanor Roosevelt (remember when she said she felt Eleanor’s presence in the White House?). I also didn’t realize how quickly Truman’s star rose in the years before he became vice-president.

So, now that my throat is feeling better, I’m going go and swallow some things. I will relish these moments.