Pony up in the name of
penitence, people. The Lenten season is upon us, which means if you’re a
practicing Christian (or simply jumping on the atonement bandwagon for
self-help’s sake), you’re about to sacrifice something important for the next
six weeks.
Consider forsaking social
media. It may not be easy to quit, but
there are reported
benefits if you do and frightening potential
consequences if you don’t. Total online abstinence is probably unrealistic;
preaching
moderation or offering an unfocused list of sins
both venial and mortal to conquer may not do the trick.
Just go big and take on one
of the Seven Deadlies. If you’re like me and suffer from all seven, it can be
hard to narrow it down. To guide you in your moral resurrection, I’ve tied each
of the capital vices to its corresponding social media platform. Renounce with
confidence. Peace and offline serenity be with you all.
Pride -----> LinkedIn
No one goes on this
professional networking website to altruistically share job-hunting tips or congratulate
a former classmate on her overnight ascension to VP. LinkedIn is a cunning manifestation
of the most deadly of the Abrahamic violations: a socially sanctioned way to humble-brag
and erect your own personal Tower of Babel through hordes of first-degree “connections,”
career accomplishments, and inflated SlideShare portfolios.
Pride also involves
contempt for your neighbors and a failure to acknowledge their achievements. Do
you wait for a connection to write you a recommendation before you reciprocate?
How many times have you ignored the Endorsements feature, an innocuous algorithmic
pop-up that would take you exactly three seconds to click through to help an
out-of-work connection look palatable to potential employers? You’re terrible
(and so occasionally am I). Get your neck slab at the door before you log off.
Sloth -----> Reddit
Poet Isaac
Watts could excavate idleness and mischief galore in this virtual vortex of
conspiracy theories, memes, and GIFs. I would never, ever chastise anyone for physical
laziness (as someone who once cauterized her own neck folds while ironing a
shirt while she was wearing it) — but
reckless squandering of time and talent is fair game. Subredditors could be applying
their genius to discover cancer cures or new forms of renewable energy; instead
they’re spinning their wheels solving
True Detective or generating
questions for the Lil
Jon AMA.
There are other issues of
indolence. Sometimes sloppy Redditors don’t perform due diligence before exposing
criminals. Or they exhibit extreme apathy by upvoting or downvoting instead
of adding insight to a thread. All this wasted brilliance late into the night can
only lead to one thing: sleeping past noon the next day.
Gluttony -----> Instagram
Yes, I’ve shared pictures
of pommes frites in a paper cone. And Inkwell-manipulated images of partially
filled wineglasses. And sunsets (c’mon, some of them are so good you just want
to EAT them!!!). I’ve probably even fulfilled each and every one of Thomas
Aquinas’ various types
of gluttony (well, maybe not “eat[ing] too daintily”).
But our collective addiction
to whoring out the elaborate preparation and presentation of our meals—in both
complete and half-devoured states—is out of control. Instagram gives us too
much leeway to exercise our caloric free will and share it with the world. Do
you think Daguerre
thumbtacked Sheffield plates of his ratatouille to the studio door?
I try to be a good Samaritan in practice, even if I’m just a lapsed Byzantine in reality, so here’s
unsolicited advice: There is no filter in the world that mitigates our disgusting
overconsumption. Just stop it.
Greed -----> Pinterest
Excessive scavenging and amassing
isn’t just the realm of TLC shows. Pinterest, which began as a “visual
discovery tool” people could use to collect, bookmark, and share articles, has
morphed into an online jumble of compulsively gathered “pins” that some may
find useful, but most will not. Except probably you. And even you can’t possibly have time to sift
through all your myriad boards, or those of any of your Pinterest pals, and so instead
you keep on adding, aggregating, accumulating NEW BOARDS AND NEW PINS. What
began as a list of slow-cooker recipes is now a Winchester Mystery House of Someecards
jokes, home décor fantasies, and bucket-list vacation sites.
The sin of greed is
described as “an inordinate desire to acquire or possess more than one needs.” We
don’t need more mental clutter, even if it comes in such a clickable online
package. Still not convinced? “Board” rhymes with “hoard.” My work here is done.
Envy -----> Foursquare
While your friends are
checking into The Best Nightclub in Ibiza, you’ve
just assumed mayoral duties at the laundromat or in the ladies’ room at
Applebee’s. They’re collecting Socialite, JetSetter, and Player Please! badges
while you rack up Locals and Benders (four-plus nights in a row!) at Chuck E.
Cheese and the gas station. Your insatiable desire to be anywhere but where you
actually are dominates your soul, because according to Foursquare, everyone
else in the world is always having a better time than you, in a more exciting
place, with all of the awesome people.
You can try to mitigate
your covetousness with DIY self-deprecatory check-ins like “[Your Name Here] is
now Mayor of the Bathroom,” but you’re not fooling anyone. The GPS doesn’t lie:
It is everything you are/were/will become. Sew
your eyes shut with wire or remove Foursquare from your phone once and for
all.
Lust (desire) -----> Twitter
Twitter is lust
personified, a meandering odyssey for fame, power, and glory via retweets and favorites.
Your need for 140-character notoriety leads to an unhealthy obsession with
trending topics, following-to-follower ratios, and crafting the wittiest reply
to the @midnight
hashtag.
Don’t bother trying to get
verified. You’re not Patton Oswalt
(or even Patricia Arquette),
and you never will be.
Wrath -----> Facebook
There are at least nine types of Facebook users
that neatly correspond to the number of circles in Dante’s hierarchy of
suffering. There are enough political rants, inspirational bromides, and ill-advised selfies
to incite uncontrollable hatred and fury that will last for all eternity.
Of course there are
variations on that list, and I won’t hesitate to add Writers (Writhers?) Who Ask
You to Read and Share Their Articles. But the real sin is this: You’re still
friends with them. And maybe me. Get that final Poke in and get the hell out of
there—at least for the next 40 days.
Tweets and treats at @jenngidman.
