StumbleUpon: Now a “Caste-Based Social Bookmarking Tool!”

I would really like to know when StumbleUpon went from being an awesome site-hunting database into a “social networking tool.”

I don’t know when people started calling Digg and StumbleUpon “social networking” sites. And I have no clue when StumbleUpon created its X-rating, permanently restricting communication between X-rated users and lesser users. But damned if all of the above didn’t happen while I was gone.

StumbleUpon doesn’t suck horrifically yet. The awesome is still there. You still get good photos of pretty places, a few programs here and there, some great watermelon soap recipes, you get the idea. You use Stumble, you still get some great stuff.

(Along with the obligatory shit. Like Ctrl-Alt-Del and a billion sites repeating the same fucking joke over and over again. Fuck that shit.)

At some point, though, something happened, and now StumbleUpon is a “social networking giant“.

Now look, I guess I get the label. You see, StumbleUpon users are clicking a little button on their web browser that takes them to a new site, and then they thumb it up and then StumbleUpon takes the site and directs other StumbleUpon users to it. Socially. StumbleUpon users are socially clicking a little button on their web browser to find web sites to waste time on. Probably while alone in their parents’ basements.

But still. We don’t need any more damn “social networking” sites. I don’t need to talk to people on the Internet via StumbleUpon, that’s why I’ve got Facebook. What? Is StumbleUpon going to add an e-poke feature so that I can electronically play grab-ass with other StumbleUpon users while clicking buttons to take me to “pictures of famous Virginians” websites? Is that what StumbleUpon wants to become?

We already have our “Untouchables”, the X-rated users. You can’t talk to X-rated users unless you’re X-rated. That’s a StumbleUpon rule, and it will be enforced by death. You want to talk to X-rated users? Then join them in their filthy X-rated filth, that’s StumbleUpon’s message to you.

I found this out, because I was confused when I realized that somebody I knew on StumbleUpon, named Darkspoons, had at some point vanished. All of the posts she had made anywhere on the site vanished.

Then I realized that another great Stumbler I knew, Bryce3, wasn’t there. And a bunch of others.

Then I realized that both of them had been X-rated, for Christ alone knows what reason.

I decided to join them, because fuck it. While I don’t have a strong desire to see “Super Hornio Brothers II” while using StumbleUpon, if not going X-rated means not seeing peoples’ reviews of pages and their comments, hey, I don’t use StumbleUpon enough to care.

Oh, but of course:


If you're G rated, you can't talk with R-and X- rated Stumble users. If you're R- rated, you can't talk with X- rated. If you're X-rated, you can't talk to anybody but X-rated people.

Seriously. On this “social networking site”, you can be permanently banned from ever interacting in any way with anybody who’s not rated “X”. Apparently a “block posts from this user” feature wasn’t good enough for StumbleUpon, they had to make a blanket rule applying to everybody put into one of three separate groups.

To hell with that. If I want a “social networking” site I’ll use Facebook. No thanks StumbleUpon.

And don’t even let me get started on Twitter. Seriously, the last thing we need is for anybody else to start accounts on that site. Oooh, you say you gave birth to an octopus while simultaneously slaying a dragon by cutting off his leftmost toenail and using it as a potion to cure the great Princess Xandar III of the Gaian Confederacy of her crippling yeast infection? Big fucking deal. I had breakfast this morning. How do you like that, you octopus fucker?

In the end, you could forgive sites like StumbleUpon and Facebook and Twitter. But why would you? They encourage a caste-based social system, one in which there is the “in”-crowd and the “out”-crowd. If we keep on going on like this, we’ll be no better than your common mud-trotting Hindustani, riding upon the backs of stooping elephants who are, in keeping with Hindu religious beliefs, standing atop small turtles.

This is America, dammit! I want my Internet nerdy and anti-social, just like I want my jocks stupid and my computer technical support to be Indian and surly. StumbleUpon and Facebook are doing exactly the opposite, turning the Internet into something fun for even cool people. It’s changing the world, for the worse. I mean, we’ve got people regularly watching horses sticking their dicks into grown human men. Surely something is going to come of all of this. And I guarantee it will be for the worst.

So, if you love America, stop using StumbleUpon and Twatter, because they are up to no good. Now if you will excuse me, I need to get back to my friendly Indian technical support specialist. Something about therapy.

How to Use Facebook

Virtual networking programs like Facebook and Myspace have swept America by connecting people who should never have been allowed to connect in any meaningful way. Frankly, most Facebook and Myspace users should never have been let out of the tiny cocoon-like enclaves they inhabit, shunning the rest of the world like timid butterflies and coming out only for an anime-catgirl shaped lightbulb or copious amounts of Mountain Dew, but that is not my point. My point is that these systems are taking America by storm, by letting people from seperate cities, countries, or even planets communicate with one another in a way that could almost be mistaken for human interaction, such as via poking one another electronically. Of course, allowing unwanted human interaction is only one of many services Myspace and Facebook provide. There are infinite tasks you can perform effortlessly with the touch of a button on both systems, including:

  • Instant messaging
  • Being able to post nude photographs of yourself for all your friends to see (a feature only available on Myspace to my knowledge, unfortunately)
  • Posting poorly-drawn furry pornography that nobody wants to see
  • Having a special “birthday reminder” tool, so that you don’t forget your friends’ birthdays and end up having a birthday cake slammed into your CD-ROM drive.

Yet many people don’t fully understand how to use these features. Only those that spend their every waking hour poring endlessly over a sterile notebook or desktop computer screen, or those who are liberal arts or physical education majors, truly understand the power one can acquire through a system like Myspace or Facebook. Thankfully for you, I’m here to help. I’m a veteran of Myspace and Facebook, having more than fifty friends per system in spite of being a common variant of Mexican gray wolf, and I know the Internet like the back of my hand, because I have no life and no semblance of social relationships.

Without further ado:

1. When on Facebook, make sure to name all of your picture folders with names like “Summer of Madness”. That way, everybody will know that your summer was in fact PURE AWESOME MADNESS, in that you did that one thing where you had fun coming up with unique uses for one of your friends’ bras (hopefully a female friend) and were not beaten to death by a security guard after getting drunk and attempting to mate with the ostrich statues at the miniature golf course.

2. Whereas Myspace will never actually update any of its aging design, Facebook will redesign everything every other week. If you are on Facebook, rest assured that you will never fully understand any of the features that are at your disposal, because you will be spending at least 50% of your time attempting to find where Facebook has decided to put all the toolbars and images this week:

3. Also, on Facebook you will never be able to customize the look of your page. If you get a WordPress blog you can give it one of 73 different styles, of which I have used one, “Digg 3-Column”, for quite awhile now. On Myspace you can use whatever the hell style you want, of which most choose styles such as the ever-popular “Retarded 16-year-old Girl” style, or “Latently Homosexual 18-year-old Emo Raver Boi” style.

On Facebook, though, there is no “style.” You are given the style Facebook has, known as the “Blank white page with a blue bar on top and random shit everywhere” style. This style is inherently unpopular. Of the several billion friend updates I have on Facebook, currently 119% involve somebody telling me to vote “I don’t like it” on the Facebook layout. I will, as soon as I’m done reading through the latest Terms of Service the Antichrist has put together for Facebook’s crack legal team.

That reminds me:

4. On Facebook, any rights you once had will be null and void after you open an account. Technically, according to Facebook’s new terms of service slavery is not explicitly illegal. The federal government could literally sell you and your children to a slaveowner, forcing you into a lifetime of menial servitude, until you finally utter your last gasping breath. If you’re lucky, they might give forty acres and a mule to your children, and even then you will be yelled at by Republicans who will scream at you to act just like white people or else and shut up while America continually steals pieces of your culture, bit by bit, until finally you have nothing left to give. That’s Facebook for you.

Oh wait. Wait, I’m sorry, I’m thinking of the Emancipation Proclamation. My mistake. What Facebook will do is steal everything you’ll ever put up and make sure you never see any rights to it ever again. If you ever speak up, they’ll unleash their crack Legal Team, comprised of three wolverines, a dozen land piranhas, and twenty King Cobra snakes, and have them eat you, and if possible extract what precious minerals they can find in your body.

I hear the average person contains $25.00 worth of precious minerals. That may not sound like much, but considering that there are 175 million Facebook users, and more than 850 million photos are uploaded to the site each month, that’s more than $4 billion they could get just via extracting your precious minerals. If they forced you to give them your kidneys? They could take over the world. Think about that next time you’re putting photos up under Facebook’s terms of service. The legal team’s getting hungry. Especially the cobra.

Giving Shari Some Vampire Love

Lupe and the FacebookLupe and the FacebookLupe and the FacebookLupe and the Facebook
A lot of guys don’t understand the meaning of true love. True love involves doing anything for the person you’re in love with, even if they have a boyfriend and he wants to kill you.

That, naturally, involves getting a Facebook account at least 90% of the time. Now in my case, the person who convinced me to get the account, Shari, is just a friend; our relationship is “true love” in the same way that my dog is a coyote. True, my dog Sissy is pretty like a coyote, and they both have fur, but one is capable of eating large quadripeds while the other is primarily capable of eating bones made of compressed carbon matter.

Aside from quibbling details, I got a Facebook account. This is primarily because I hate Myspace, an equivalent “social network” service notable for having Tila “that ugly Asian bitch” Tequila as one of its most famous members. I also glossed over Something Awful, because they would permaban me after one look at my wolf drawings. I know I have no proof of this, but you’re just going to have to trust me on this one. Lowtax would look at poor Lupe and vomit uncontrollably.

The first thing I notice on Facebook is this:

Shari the Vampire

Naturally, being a typical depressive 18-year-old male with no romantic interests whatsoever, the notion of “Vampire love” is one which I take with a grain of salt, because I know deep down inside that vampires can never love me. I am a werewolf deep down inside, as far as my allergy medication goes anyway, and so we would be at a crossroads, especially whenever she or he or whatever a vampire is wants to turn into a bat. Sure, bats create less pollution when they go to the bathroom, but think of the consequences! I’m sure you can think of some while I finish writing my next paragraph.

Nevertheless, it tells me to click, and so I click. It tells me to install some kind of “application” to my account, and so, in the hopes of finding some kind of “vampire love”, I install it. Next, I get:

Justin the Vampire

I realize that I have been duped into some kind of horrible vampire-making cartel. Imagine, an entire company, making plug-ins for a social networking site, all with the sole intention of creating undead blood-sucking creatures! The idea makes me vibrate violently as we speak for no reason in particular.

I try my best to understand what kind of terrifying creature I have become. A vampire? Would that make me a vampire werewolf whenever I take my Benadryl? What does this mean for my future? How do I eat? I mean, a werewolf eats people. A vampire sucks their blood. What do I do, kind of rip apart the person and then suck the blood out of their meatiness? And then eat the meatiness after I’ve sucked the blood out of it? The very idea is enough to boggle the mind.

Facebook tells me that I am a “rockstar vampire”, which I’m guessing is some kind of code word for my mission. It has a little status counter telling me how many points I have gotten and how many “chumps” I have “infected”, which is at zero and will probably remain so for a very long time. I have gotten many infections in my life, and I figure this will just be similar to them, only with more blood-sucking. And guessing from my title, more rock music. As similar as this sounds to Queen of the Damned, a classic movie starring such greats of the silver screen as Aaliyah (notable for her name sounding like the noise I make when I have the stomach flu), I have decided not to commit suicide.

Yet.