Credit Where Credit’s Due

A couple of months ago my friend Jon and I were gallivanting around town, cameras in hand. We snapped, filtered, cropped, ate undercooked soft pretzels and posted about our adventures on social media. This is what we often do when we hang out, and it’s just one reason we’re friends.

One of my shots from that day’s shenanigans turned out pretty well (if I do say so myself). I posted it on Instagram with the usual tags. It got some social media love, and was even used (with permission and with proper photo credit given) on two local blogs to illustrate stories. Huzzah!

I think the weirdness started when a local casino regrammed the photo without giving me credit. Then it appeared – again, without credit — on a local government office’s Twitter feed. I thought the wild ride had ended, until just the other day when a local small business regrammed the photo (do I even need to say without credit?) AND had added their own logo to the mix. *cues Twilight Zone theme music*

This photo of my kitty niece is not the photo I'm talking about.

This photo of my hairy niece is not the photo I’m talking about.

Look, mistakes happen. I’m not claiming to be Saint Andrea here. I may have at some point in time uploaded a snippet of laser-riffic or double neck guitar concert footage to the interwebs. One time I took photos at a Holocaust museum exhibit because I didn’t see the signs forbidding photography until after I had already been through the building. (Even though they were serious, respectful photos and this happened a long time ago, I still feel a little bit embarrassed by this tacky error.)

But I don’t “regram” without giving credit. If I like something on Facebook enough to post it on my page, I use the “share” function…I don’t save the graphic and upload it myself, implying it is my own original creation. And “retweet”? It’s a thing!

I guess my gears grind the hardest when I witness improper social media sharing inside of our rather intimate communities. Whether we’re interacting within a geographical area of small businesses (or large businesses that should know better), or within an online collective made up of well-intentioned massage therapists (or large massage therapy businesses that should know better), we really should strive to behave courteously at all times. Remaining mindful of our integrity and trustworthiness will serve us best in the long run, and that’s definitely an impression worth sharing.

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Want to know how to report copyright violations on Instagram and Facebook? BAM.

Want to learn more about sharing and caring? Tune in to The Young Thumbs next week, when our very own Massage Nerd discusses copyright issues!

Facebook Burnout and the Need for Feed

Facebook my dear, I have so many wonderful things to thank you for. You’ve allowed me to get to know and become actual real-life friends with people who live across the continent, across town, and in my backyard. You’ve introduced me to a passionate community of evidence-based massage therapists, sassy bloggers, inspirational creatives, and empathetic virtual friends who are prompt with a kind word of encouragement when I’m feeling venty and clawing at the edges of insanity.

Remember that time you told me about the Depeche Mode tribute band that was playing at Voodoo Lounge? They were sooooo goooood! Or when you clued me in to the free performances of Teller’s ‘Play Dead’ at the Rio? I mean, that guy ate a damn light bulb on stage. A light bulb!

Darling Facebook, you make crowdfunding possible, and oftentimes vastly successful! You are a wandering searcher’s muse and a coupon code addict’s wet dream. Your messaging capabilities make it easy to contact peeps in a jiffy, and Facebook events are the ultimate in convenience (assuming all desired attendees are suckling at your networky teat). I can inflict my instagrams on both you and Twitter simultaneously with minimal effort. Foursquare check-ins, too! (Or Swarm, or whatever they’re calling it today. To my shame, I’m still firmly entrenched in fiscal first quarter 2014.)

Sweet social network of choice, you’ve been great – you really have – but as is the sad case so often in this life, all good things must come to unfriend.

 

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Now before you go all weepy on me, let me explain: it’s not you, it’s me. I’ve got an intensely obsessive personality, and your constant barrage of information overload has led me to develop the unhealthy habit of spending countless hours idly trolling your feed, for, geez, I don’t even know what. Distraction, I suppose.

The free magic shows and Dave Gahan-esque dance moves have gotten lost in a sea of the mundane, speckled with rare buoys of profundity. I sincerely appreciate the thoughts, the emotions – the people – behind these blips, but I’m just no longer cut out to be one of the lovelies manning the radar. Life beckons, and pressing tasks call.

Facebook, if it’s alright with you, I won’t deactivate you at this point in time. I’d like to continue to be tagged in posts and photos if need be, messaged when my input or assistance is required, and invited to join fun events that are of interest to me. I will continue to participate in a few choice Facebook groups, and will continue to maintain my business pages. I hope you won’t take offense when I share this blog post on my wall. I really hope you won’t brand me an ungrateful twat when I confess I just installed News Feed Eradicator on my laptop, and that I’ve unfollowed essentially everyone on my mobile app, save George Takei.

What’s that, you irresistible blue and white dealer of human commodification? Oh no, I’m not trading you in for Snapchat or the next Twitter, if that’s what you’re afraid of. You can rest assured I’m reassessing virtual boundaries across the board: instead of being overcome by the onslaught of curated life snippets y’all hurl at the masses on a moment-by-moment basis, I’ll be out there embracing my own corporeal experiences like a mofo, external validation be damned.

 

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