My last blog post about race and science fiction detailed my reaction to this picture taken from The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part I —
and I have good news to share! I did not see the film, but my Crazy Babe did (in real life, she goes by the name
longtime critique partner Adriana Arbogast) and she said the woman in rags is the leader of her district, which has just been bombed, and that everyone else in her district was also dressed in rags. Adriana enjoyed the movie because she is Crazy a Hunger Games movie fan — but her synopsis of the film made this movie an easy pass for me. Plus, my granddaughter’s boyfriend revealed to me today (Happy Thanksgiving, by the way! It’s Thanksgiving as I write this! I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving! And I hope you had pie! I had such amazing cherry pie today! It was sooooo heavenly!!) —
Um, where was I?
Before the pie?
Oh yes, Mockingjay Part I. Right! Let me get back to that.
I received this important news today: my granddaughter’s boyfriend revealed to me that Cressida *isn’t* a badass warrior in the movie, but “an interviewer” come to film and interview Katniss (this, I presume, would be for the propaganda videos Alma Coin needed in the book… though I could be wrong).
Whatever the details, I was crushed to learn Cressida isn’t a warrior.
I’m so depressed I could just run downstairs and eat the enormous block of carrot cake and half a cherry pie I was sent home with post-turkey-feast.
(Why do people have to send me home with huge slabs of carrot cake and cherry pie? Why?? Because they know how depressed I’ll be over Cressida not being a warrior and somehow intuit I no longer keep emergency stashes of brownies in my house and will therefore need sugarload-help with the face-stuffing despair of Hollywood letdown?)
Um, the correct answer must be yes, obviously, because this is a tragedy.
My epic whininess aside, my granddaughter’s boyfriend loved the movie, as did my granddaughter, as did several friends. None of them were crying about Cressida not being a warrior. (*sob!* I feel so alone right now! Just me and my slab of carrot cake to soothe all my pain…)
After I join carrot cakers anonymous, I’ll be Tweeting about my experience in recovery. Because hey! I’m on Twitter now! My profile name is MelissaJStacy. I feel very groovy.
My previous exposure to Twitter has been really limited. But now that I’ve retweeted tweets and favorited tweets and made a few tweets myself (for five whole days!), I get what all the fuss is about. I can totally see why Twitter is addictive and fun.
But I will say this. People who Tweet and then repost their Tweets as status updates on Facebook (!!!) — *this* — more than anything else — is the reason I just want to puke every time I see a hashtag on Facebook.
It’s also the reason why I sometimes (sarcastically) write stuff like “hashtag-my-life-is-so-awesome” in a spirit of explosive sarcasm, frustration and spurious wrath. (As in, fake anger, though the frustration is definitely real.)
I do not like seeing Tweets as status updates on Facebook. Because if you don’t use Twitter (like me, as of before five days ago) — the hashtags just come off as pretentiously foreign and pointless. Like seeing a bunch of people eating Ramen noodles out of fine silver bowls at Wayne mansion. And Bruce is like, “Excellent dinner, Alfred,” (in his snootiest voice) while I am like, seriously?? Ramen at Wayne mansion for dinner? #wth
(For my non-Tweeting friends, using a hashtag is just a way to lend emphasis to the words — in this case, envision my wth in bold, rather than following a hashtag, and you get the point. Hashtags are also used for sarcasm and irony, much the way I would write “hashtag-my-life-is-so-perfect” sometimes in Facebook posts. Because *frustration*)
But the biggest point of a hashtag is to “mark” a Tweet under a certain subject heading, so that people can search through all the Tweets on that subject. Because Twitter is just like Facebook, only a lot faster to scroll through, and everything on Twitter — all Tweets — are public. And because they are public, it’s nice to be able to reference everything people have said on a certain subject, like the protests in Ferguson.
As to using hashtags, I totally understand that it’s a lot less time-consuming to simply repost a Tweet as a status update on Facebook.
If *I* ever start doing this, I need to be taken to a fish market and whapped in the head several times with frozen tuna. Then whapped a few more times. Then punched in the stomach for good measure.
Because I do not like hashtags on Facebook. I just don’t. Even now that I’ve started Tweeting, and “get the joke,” I still don’t like seeing hashtags on Facebook. Unless they’re being written out as the word “hashtag” rather than using the symbol. For me, writing out “hashtag” is still a totally awesome use of Facebook posts. (Because *frustration*)
Why do I feel this way?
Because more people — many millions more people — are on Facebook than Twitter. That means, every time a “hip Tweeter” hashtags all over a Facebook post, they are using a foreign language that many people reading their posts (like moi) are excluded from. It somehow doesn’t help matters that every time I see a hashtag it’s after someone’s boyfriend has just bought her airline tickets for a spontaneous trip to Hawaii and had a bazillion roses delivered to her at work and she posts a picture of her bazillion roses and airline tickets and a diamond necklace her boyfriend picked up on his way home from work as “an extra surprise” and then writes as her status update on Facebook:
#soblessed #lifeisperfect #lovethisman
and everyone is commenting with the smiley-face-with-heart-eyes emoticon (like, millions of them) and all I can think is:
#why #do #you #DO #this????
I feel the same way when I see a baby picture as a status update followed with:
#bestchildever #lovemyfamily #perfectboy #myoneandonly
I’m back at Wayne mansion, asking Alfred — *ahem* — “Why in the F are we eating Ramen in Wayne mansion?? Can you *not* make something non-starchy that costs more than ten cents?? This is Batman Palace, for God’s sake. Read a cookbook.”
Hashtag. Not a millennial. Hashtag. I’m the Grinch who stole Facebook Tweeting.
Hashtag. If I start Facebook Tweeting, take out the frozen tuna, and pummel me. Hashtag. *not kidding*
Hashtag — I do like Twitter though! It’s fun! And Tweeting is fun! Just not Facebook Tweeting. And I still love people who Facebook Tweet, because they are friends and family. And it does probably save people a lot of time. Just remember though: when some people (like moi) see Facebook Tweets, you’re serving Ramen at Wayne mansion, and it is weirdness.
Hashtag. The End.