SOCIAL MEDIA AND TESTOSTERONE AUTISM
Social Media was a thing more meaningful for me. I had friends from all over the world I get into contact daily. I knew them and they knew me.
This feeling of reality slowly eroded with time. The main reason for this I fear is what OLGA TOKARCZUK describes in her novel DRIVE YOUR PLOUGH OVER THE BONES OF THE DEAD as Testosterone Autism:
With age, many men come down with testosterone autism, the symptoms of which are a gradual decline in social intelligence and capacity for interpersonal communication, as well as a reduced ability to formulate thoughts. The Person beset by this Ailment becomes taciturn and appears to be lost in contemplation. He develops an interest in various Tools and machinery, and he’s drawn to the Second World War and the biographies of famous people, mainly politicians and villains. His capacity to read novels almost entirely vanishes; testosterone autism disturbs the character’s psychological understanding.
I’m not in the second phase of that ailment but the initial symptoms were already there and it doesn’t get any better. Luckily I like novels still. The book is very good, I recommend it if you want to read an Interesting book by the way.
Then again, I wonder whether being active in the Social Media is a valid metric to measure Social Intelligence and Capacity for Interpersonal Communication? I’m with the Camp Baudrillard here. I feel the these platforms only simulate a real social interaction. It’s like using saccharine instead of real sugar. The communication you make is not between people but machines, the person you “communicate” doesn’t read your intonations, body language and all the minutiae that comes with an actual parley.
I can’t believe I used “parley” in a non piratical context but hey. One can still amaze himself!
Although I know it is not an optimal thing to use your monitor in front of the window, I like it immensely. Using a PC, either when you are writing something or playing a game or just plain surfing, is an activity that sucks up the hours into plain seconds. I always used my machines placed next to a wall, hence the usual experience went like this:
- Turns head, sees the sunlight, says “Oh it’s early. Time to work!” Starts to work
- Turns head, sees the window is darkened “Oh it’s night… Time to sleep
- And that is not a healthy thing. After a while you realize whole days have went by when you are not looking, you haven’t felt the actual wind on your face for days and the room smells like something crawled up, died and began to putrefy in the most spectacular fashion.
And that is not a healthy thing. After a while you realize whole days have went by when you are not looking, you haven’t felt the actual wind on your face for days and the room smells like something crawled up, died and began to putrefy in the most spectacular fashion.
With maggots, larvae and other viscera.
Hang on tight, a storm is brewing. If we survive it all will be well and all manner of things shall be well. Or they are going to collect our bleached bones from the desert of reality…