BOOK REVIEW: You’re Never Weird on the Internet (Almost) by Felicia Day

I’m kind of a pop culture nerd and I don’t mind saying so. Popular culture is a fascinating vehicle for examining the philosophical and moral concepts of society en masse. Mass production, mass communication, mass consumption, fan culture – I dig it because people show what’s important to them in a broader sense through how they consume and respond to pop culture. Also I dig it because I like to quote Star Wars a lot.

I saw Felicia Day speak at Supanova Pop Culture Expo in Adelaide in 2012. At the time, I was only familiar with her work from Joss Whedon’s Dr Horrible’s Sing Along Blog and Buffy and I had a vague notion of her creating a web series that was super popular but that I hadn’t seen. How little I knew. I remember the session being funny and inspiring and I became an instant Felicia fan as she talked through the highs, lows and overall success of The Guild and the [at the time] very recent launch of Geek and Sundry with youtube. Holy cow, this chick was an online mogul and could do all these things and still be hilarious and personable with her fans? What champ. Being somewhat in awe of her ongoing new media career since then, I was super excited when I found out her memoir You’re Never Weird on the Internet (Almost) was being released this month.

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Following her unconventional home-schooled childhood, her college days studying an unusual mix of maths and violin, and her move to LA to commence her acting career, underpinned throughout by her early adoption of and addiction to all things internet, the book is ceaselessly funny and frank, and feels like sitting down for a good long chat.

Oh, and just quietly, Felicia Day herself casually liked my Instagram photo of her book so, like… YAY!

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Yeah. I fangirled. HARD.

Never Weird is less a ‘this is how I became an internet pioneer’ success story and more a love letter to difference, showing that breaking the mould and chasing your own model of creative happiness is what personal success is really about. So let your freak flag fly and all that, because Felicia is proof there is a terrific freedom in just being you.

‘Til next time,

Sig

Nostalgic Medicine featuring the Care Bears

Anyone who knows me even a little knows that I have a pretty rubbish immune system. I’ve blogged about being sick before. Bascially, winter has felt like one long plague season and I have largely forgotten what it’s like to wake up in the morning and feel well. 

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When I was a kid there was one rule whenever I felt unwell. That rule stipulated that the only thing that could possibly make me feel better was watching The Care Bears Movie. If you don’t know it, it’s a fairly terrible animated movie from 1985 in which the Care Bears befriend some lonely orphans and help a magician’s assistant break away from the spell of an evil spirit. Mickey Rooney does one of the voices. The Care Bears use their Rainbow Rescue Beam and discover the Care Bear Cousins. Carole King sings the theme song. Care-a-Lot is a place we all can go, you guys. If you don’t know where it is, look inside your heart.

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Seriously – it’s vomitous.

I’m not sure exactly what restorative powers I imagined the movie possessed, especially given the sheer force of its rot-your-teeth-while-you-watch sweetness. The very mention of the movie these days I am sure causes my mother an involuntary eye twitch from many a night spent with a sick child and the movie on an apparently endless loop (Hi Ma! I’m feeling much better, no need to bring soup x). But I stood by my own questionable medical remedy for years and it’s entirely possible that The Care Bears Movie is burned into my memory in a way no other movie will be.

Yes. I still have a Care Bear. (For my health).

Yes. I still have a Care Bear. (For my health).

This winter, as I negotiate my wellspring of immunity failings, I can think of nothing I rely on with such determination as a sick adult except medically sound though wholly uninteresting things like paracetamol, vitamin C, and aloe vera tissues. And though I worry it may make cynical, adult me want to stab my own eyes out with my Vicks inhaler, I am very tempted to track down a copy of The Care Bears Movie in readiness for next time, just in case.

‘Til next time,

Sig

CREATURE FEATURE SUNDAY: 50 Thoughts While Watching Sharknado 2

Back in May, Sharknado 2: The Second One was added to the Netflix Australia catalogue with apparently limited fanfare, because I had no idea. Happily though, while I was in search of something from the so-bad-it’s-good genre, there it was. Hurrah! Creature Feature Sunday, a time-honoured though usually hangover-induced tradition in my household, is back in action.

Here are my 50 thoughts from Sharknado 2. Spoiler alert, guys. Spoiler alert. In a big way.

  1. Oooh, we’re on a plane. Sharks on a plane?! I hope so!
  2. Is that Kelly Osborne?
  3. Ian Ziering… so weathered.
  4. Get it? Weathered?
  5. He’s not enjoying this flight at all.
  6. Am I?
  7. Yeah, of course I am.
  8. “It is happening again.” They are flying through sharks, you guys! FLYING through sharks!
  9. Good job Tara Reid’s character wrote a bestselling book on surviving a Sharknado.
  10. Ian Ziering is going to fly the plane!
  11. Hey, the oxygen masks haven’t dropped (which is clearly the main issue when passengers are being decapitated by sharks).
  12. He’s coming in hot!
  13. Tara Reid loses a hand while hanging out of an airplane shooting at a shark?! This is AMAZING!
  14. It’s suddenly day time?
  15. Credits! Theme song! Actual theme song!
  16. Holy shit, Mark McGrath is aging worse than Ian Ziering. Let the hair go, man. Let it go.
  17. Lock down the city! Call the mayor!
  18. Oooh, mention of prosthetics – this bodes very well. Please be a gun or similar.
  19. “It’s like he knew who I was!” If this is a shark revenge movie I will be so happy!
  20. Why does the weather report have animated sharks and yet no one is taking Ian Ziering seriously? Listen to Steve from 90210, New Yorkers! Jeez.
  21. Call the port authority! Call the fire department!
  22. There is A LOT of exposition happening by cell phone right now.
  23. Sassy cab drivers are an under-utilised plot device though, aren’t they.
  24. “Last thing I wanted was to hit a home run for my Pops”. FORESHADOWING! Your time is soon, retired baseball dude. I can feel it.
  25. THERE HE GOES!
  26. Sharks actively chasing the ferry doesn’t seem congruent with the idea that sharks just get caught up in a storm though.
  27. But I’ll run with it.
  28. ….
  29. WORTH IT.
  30. Gator? What?
  31. Oh never mind. Shark got him.
  32. No chainsaws in Manhattan? Gee, we really take Bunnings for granted.
  33. It’s like Indiana Jones outrunning the boulder, but with Liberty’s head. Couldn’t they just…. move to the side? Come on, ladies.
  34. Thanks for keeping the exposition on track, news dudes. Storms are converging!
  35. Theme song montage! Yeah!
  36. I googled the theme song band, who are called Quint. Like in Jaws. Well played.
  37. Suggested TMZ-style headline: Tara Reid finds a new outfit / time to accessorise while absconding from hospital.
  38. ‘Jumped the shark’ reference after jumping across the backs of several sharks James Bond Live and Let Die/alligator style. Yessss.
  39. Not sure how bombs fired into sharknado will help?
  40. “This is the Big Apple. When something bites us, we bite back!” ‘MURICA!
  41. So if the bombs don’t work, freezing it will somehow work. Science is hard.
  42. Ohhh, it’s going to take the power out of the storm.
  43. “Shark falling rates of 2 inches per hour” – weatherwoman, actual quote.
  44. Followed by motivational speech and chainsaw hero shot. Oh yeah!
  45. She’s replaced her hand with a saw! A SAW!!
  46. Why is everyone on the street? What did they think would happen when sharks started falling from the sky?
  47. Scrap that – I don’t even care. IN AIR CHAINSAW SHARK FIGHT.
  48. RIDING a shark to the spire of the Empire State Building? You had me at hello, Ian Ziering.
  49. I have just shouted “It’s her hand! It’s HER HAND!” to my empty living room.
  50. Actual applause.

Sharknado 2 rates 4 out of 10 jumped sharks.

No, sir. We are not a match.

Here’s what’s up: I’ve been single a while. For the most part, it’s pretty great. I do what I like, when I want to do it. My weird schedule doesn’t affect anyone but me, and the only arguments I have at home are between me and whatever jar I can’t open. But despite the pros, sometimes a bit of human interaction is a really nice thing. And meeting new people… it’s not easy.

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It seemed everyone but me has tried online dating (to varying degrees of success) and I wanted to find out what all the fuss was about. So at a friend’s suggestion, I signed up for OKCupid (“It’s great! You’ll love it!”). I set up a brief profile, added a passably cute photo, and started having a scout around. It was low commitment and low cost and low effort – basically the opposite of every dating experience I have had in the past.

Dating, I am sure, has never been an easy thing. Today, thanks to our social media addiction, dating is a bigger minefield than ever as we negotiate this age of total visibility – we know when our messages have been seen, we get notified of people checking out our profiles. We monitor our visitors, collect our ‘likes’. We are present. We are seen, and unavoidably so. We conduct so much of our business in the digital realm I expected online dating to come pretty naturally. For me, it didn’t. For others, it doesn’t seem to either.

Usernames are hard.

I get it. You want a username that says something about you but also stands out from the crowd, and one that isn’t taken. It’s hard. If you are using a handle along the lines of ‘supernicedude’, ‘fuckboy69’ or ‘theguy4u’ then you may – may­ ­– be trying too hard. OKCupid also has a range of standard name endings you can add to turn your ordinary username-already-exists name into a viable username. The sort of thing that turns you from ‘Bill’ into ‘Bill-osaurus’. One of them, perplexingly, is ‘-taco’. Greg-taco. It tells me nothing. Who are you Greg? And do you even like tacos?

Uploading appealing pictures is hard.

A picture paints a thousand words, right? I like to think I’m not that superficial – that’s why I signed up for a dating site where people can write profiles instead of merely flicking left or right through photos and formulating opinions based purely on a person’s aesthetic fuckability. But a good photo is a good start all the same and it’s fascinating what people think are good dating profile photos. Here’s me with my mum! Here’s me posing with a comically large plasticine penis – see how zany I am? Here’s me in a large group – I’ll leave you to guess which one I am. Here’s a photo of my dog instead of me.

I don’t care how cute your Labrador is, I don’t want to date him.

Creating a profile is hard.

I kept my profile fairly brief at first, until I had a rummage around the site to get a feel for what people were saying. Much like the photos, some people were trying too hard. Conversely, some people weren’t trying at all. My rule of thumb was if I couldn’t think of anything I thought was witty enough for a section, I would leave it blank. Others should have perhaps followed this advice:

Idiot

Circle

After a few days of being bombarded by people who were going to try and turn anything I wrote into some kind of vague innuendo (“you like Terminator 2 and you drink a lot – well, aren’t you just saying all the right things in the right way *winky face*”) the urge to start trolling was strong.

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So for my own amusement, I changed my ‘I’m really good at’ section to this:

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I hadn’t included my height in my profile and two separate people messaged me about this. One dispensed with a cursory hello and just said ‘height?’ like that was a valid introduction. Hint: it’s not.

Which leads me to…

Messaging people is hard.

Within one week of being on the dating site, I had received 73 messages from prospective suitors. Most were of the ‘hello, how are you?’ variety, which was fine. One guy chose ‘yummy!’ as his greeting of choice, which was not. Another wrote me poem about massaging my feet and brushing my hair.

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One guy said hello and, when I hadn’t responded after 3 days, wrote again to say he supposed I wasn’t interested (he’s quite astute). My favourite was the guy who purported to be a 19 year old virgin who wanted an experienced girl to show him “how it’s done”.

If I had a dollar for every ‘baby’ or ‘honey’ or ‘sexy’ that was tacked awkwardly into the messages, I’d be able to buy a pizza and a pretty nice bottle of wine.

Figuring out who to message is hard.

OKCupid suggests matches based on ‘powerful algorithms’ generated from your answers to a range of personality questions. The idea is, the greater the match, the higher the chance your would-be date will be receptive to your messages.

I put little faith in this for two reasons. Firstly, the ‘why is the earth a circle’ guy above was an 80%+ match.

Secondly, and more importantly, the questions the site asks get pretty weird pretty quick, flip-flopping from personal details, to job interview questions, to logic puzzles and everything in between. The not unexpected ‘how long would you like your next relationship to last’, for example, is followed up with ‘what’s worse – child abuse or animal abuse?’.

Random sample:

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I think about carbs A LOT. You know why? Because carbs are delicious.

I don’t need a ‘powerful algorithm’ to tell me I am 100% certain the strength of my next relationship is not going to hinge on whether or not my partner likes historical re-enactments, the taste of beer, or reading the newspaper. Similarly, for them, is it a deal breaker that I prefer tea over coffee and know the ‘wherefore’ in ‘wherefore art thou Romeo?’ means ‘why’ and not ‘where’?

Maybe it is. Maybe that’s what dating is about these days. If so, I’m dating me.

And I don’t want to jinx it, but it’s going pretty well.

‘Til next time,

Sig