Call me old-fashioned, but I like talking to people.
In person.
This may seem “weird” or “ancient” or “individualistic,” but hear me out on this.
See, there’s something about face-to-face interaction that Facebook and texting just can’t quite offer. Computers and phones are all the rage right now (just wait till this Internet fad is over), but they can’t replace the perks and features exclusive to face-to-face communication.
Exclusive is a fancy word. I’m going to write my next column about that. Not the word exclusive, but big, fancy words in general.
This might seem choppy, but that’s mostly due to my short attention span. This is an exclusive (whoa, there’s that word again) look at how my brain functions. It takes some getting used to.
You can’t include genuine facial expressions in text. Whilst sad, add a little 🙁 to your message. If you can’t decide how you really feel about a certain situation, simply add :/.
Do people really stick their tongues out as much as they do on Facebook posts?
You can’t do a sing-song voice or a confused face or a hug through texting (somehow, “*hug” just isn’t the same).
The reader may think, “But Mark, you text me all the time!” Or “Mark, you post stuff on Facebook as much as a lot of people!” Or “Hey, you never text me! Jerk!” Yes, I text and Facebook with the best of them, but I’d much rather talk to you in person. These mediums are merely adjuncts.
I understand the appeal of shortening words so as to improve typing speed. But shudnt jus lernin how 2 type usin propr grmmr mo fastr B mo enticing?
There is a difference between there, their and they’re. We learned this in kindergarten, and it is still truth. Same with your, you’re and the ever-popular yore.
Don’t get me started on LOL, ROFL, and SMH. I’ve never felt compelled to risk injury by laying down on the floor so that I can roll around because something is funny. I’ve also never told anyone, “I’m shaking my head at what you said, seeing as how I disagree.”
Also, is “I love you” really so ridiculously long that we needed to shorten it to ily? I wouldn’t really want to tell my girlfriend “Ily so much that I didn’t bother to write out all ten letters.”
Of course, I don’t have a girlfriend.
Maybe it’s because I don’t say ily.
Now that I’ve reached the end of this column, I’ve realized how critical it is of the written word, which seems self-defeating. You couldn’t catch my use of inflection. You didn’t hear my tone of voice change with the new sentence.
Come find me and I’ll read it to you with full facial expressions and hand motions.