(with apologies to all my friends guilty of the following)
I think one has to earn the right
to post pictures of one’s food.
First, it must be good food,
carefully prepared, photogenic food,
artfully arranged, economically described.
Otherwise, I don’t want to see anybody’s food.
And I refuse to respond to posts that test
whether friends are actually reading,
asking them to repost the post,
asking others to do the same. What
possible difference could it make
whether people are “scrolling” or reading
every little thing, especially when it’s
a little thing the person who is posting didn’t even write?
Man, life is too short not to scroll,
and if one finds this offensive,
one should get off social media right this minute and
never return, or, if one believes
people are scrolling past his or her posts
in particular, one either has a personal
problem or is just not very interesting
to begin with. Copy and post the last stanza.
Or, similarly, I’m bugged by the form letter,
anonymously penned, that dresses
itself up in earnestness and sincerity
and talks about how important are the really
meaningful relationships in life and of course
the only way to prove yourself worthy
of such a relationship
is to copy and paste the post after you’ve
replied with one word (one word) about
how you met this lovely individual.
Or this: Describe how you met me but lie about it.
What possible purpose does this serve?
And I know people love their animals;
I, too, love mine, but I’m not posting pictures
of my dog in a half a dozen different poses,
nor will I find pictures of other cute dogs
on the interwebs and post these cute dogs
doing cute things like tricks and shit,
wearing hats.
And for totally different reasons
for which I am only partly ashamed, I hate it
when women post pictures of their feet.
In conclusion, like Lyle Lovett says,
I love everybody, and I would never
infringe on your right to post whatever
silly stuff you like, as long as you do me
the reciprocal favor of forgiving me
when I scroll past posts of your food,
your insecurities, your pets, your feet.
michael jarmer 