page 10
Facebook: Friend or Foe? After reading yet another pointless status update (‘just made a cup of tea smiley face’) last month, I finally left the world of Facebook. Facebook however does not give up without a fight. In order to deactivate your account you must give a reason why, perhaps ensuring that you are still in possession of your mental faculties. Then a series of photos are displayed of you with friends, and a caption “Stephen will miss you . . . Anna will miss you”. If you manage to remember that Stephen is unlikely to miss you, as you haven’t spoken since primary school, and that your friendship with Anna will probably remain intact without facebook at you live together, then you are in the clear. Well, almost. Facebook double checks one more time that you want to leave, and just when you think you are free Facebook kindly reminds you that you can reactivate your account at any time, simply by re-entering your old details. There is no escape! Facebook is not necessarily a bad thing, but the expressions of disbelief and incomprehension that greeted me when people discovered my heinous act of abandonment made me think about its role in our lives. Facebook has become a global phenomenon, reaching 500 million members in 2010 according to TechCrunch. I spoke with ten students while researching this article - only two were not on facebook. The other eight spent a minimum of one hour a day on the social networking site, and very often longer. Many, like Rita Grant, 2nd year, “checks in during any spare time.” When asked what they spent that time doing people’s routines were similar - check updates, add photos now and then, and post a message or two. The rest of the time is dedicated to “Facebook stalking”, as one girl put it. One of the biggest arguments in favour of Facebook is that it allows you to keep in touch with friends, particularly if they are abroad. Mike Kraiver, a visiting student from Connecticut said
“Facebook is a great idea-it’s a good way to stay connected with people you would otherwise lose touch with.” Of Mike’s total friend count he considered around half of them friends. However Mike is exceptional in this respect. The other seven users all said that of their 300, 400 even 500 Facebook friends, they would call only 25 to 30 of them real friends. Lee Ashwood, one of the non-Facebook users said that he thought Facebook was pointless for this very reason-many of the people you would be “friends” with on Facebook wouldn’t say hi to you if they saw you on the street. This was certainly my experience of it-hours wasted looking at people’s pages that I didn’t particularly care about, when I could have been spending time with the people who really matter. Facebook may be useful for keeping in contact with people across the globe, but surely a phone call, a letter, even a text message would keep people more truly connected than a thumbs up on someone’s status. This is not a call to boycott Facebook; rather it’s a challenge to people’s perception of it. Facebook is conveyed as a way to keep in touch with people, but it seems largely to be used as a way of distracting ourselves from our own reality, by examining the reality that other people portray of themselves. Dara O’Briain, source of comic wisdom on modern society, compared Facebook to a butler - instead of people emailing him, now they email facebook, and facebook emails him. But is Facebook our servant, or are we its slaves? Spending an hour everyday on Facebook while its owner Mark Zuckerberg sits on $6.9 billion, to me at least suggests the latter. *Due to limited space, this article was edited. An unedited version can be found on www.sin.ie By Aibhlín O’Leary
Corrib Village – The Inside View “That’s the deposit gone so” As fresher’s fortnight draws to a close, the battle scars are evident. The occupants of Corrib Village, once idealistic, enthusiastic, fresh-faced first years are coming down. After livers were pushed to their limits with cheap 6% flagons of cider, digestive systems tested with nutritious diets of baked beans on toast, virginities lost, S.T.Ds contracted (often at the same time) and legs broken, NUIG freshers’ informal induction is over. It really is a bizarre place, almost like an independent state, it’s got border controls for those who don’t live there. Often the handiest way to get in is in the back of a van, unless you use the old, “I swear I left my ID in the G.P.O toilets. I’m Eimear from Offaly don’t let the South Dublin accent fool you!” But unlike the Vatican City it’s a lawless and vice-filled place, sort of like the Sodom and Gomorrah of Galway. Male students roam from apartment to apartment, scuttered drunk, brandishing home-made beer bongs made from club orange bottles, singing Saw Doctors songs and trying to seduce girls with boasts of en-suite double rooms. But the debauchery is, at times, strangely organised. The best example being the
alphabetised block parties of the first week. The most effective and comprehensive way to ensure nobody in the complex gets their deposit back. By block D it was raining and everyone was too hungover to be arsed. It’d make you wonder why there’s such a lack of medical students. They might yet be needed. However, two weeks straight sustaining this sort of behaviour does take its toll. As you embark on yet another session and the prospect of making that 9 o’clock lecture dwindles, feeling your health and sanity decline, you begin to question this lifestyle. Shouldn’t I be going to college to learn? Does a can of cider count as one of your 5-aday? Where are my shoes? To put your mind off such panicked life re-assessments you can utilise some of Corrib’s state of the art facilities. Sure who needs functioning wi-fi or bedroom ceiling lights when you have a playground! That’s worth €4,800 up-front alone! And when the facebook won’t connect and you can’t afford another 6 pack of Bav, you can always watch another episode of Home & Away. Corrib Village, sure tis some shpot! By Rory Bowens