Any good fortune teller (or, if you prefer, charlatan) practices the art of Universally Applicable Advice. You know, gems like “Be alert for opportunity,” which is ALWAYS a good idea, or “You will meet someone new in the coming year,” a prediction that is nearly water-tight for anyone at all. I often suspect primary care physicians of the same practice: “Walk more. Eat more vegetables.”
So, let me offer my own New Year’s nugget of Universally Applicable Advice: Kill yourself.
Really. I just committed Twitter suicide and it felt GREAT. I’m seriously considering Facebook suicide as well. Last night, I spent an unecessary 3 hours at my desk, long after everyone else in the office had gone home, cruising a succession of increasingly-depraved websites, only to stumble home in the rain feeling soul-dead and empty. Screw THAT. If I’m going to be hungover, it’s damn well going to be from actual, physical revelry. That’s MY New Year’s resolution! This morning I arose with a powerful and righteous conviction that TODAY is the day to make a change. No more checking Severina’s readership stats in the morning before leaving the house. NO MORE staying at work after hours to update my Fetlife profile. I am putting my virtual selves before the virtual firing squad, because they have slowly and insidiously seized too much territory in my consciousness. Anti-revolutionary factions must be purged.
Join me, friends. Kill your virtual self – at least ONE of them – and meet me out in the bracing cold of the Real World. I look forward to seeing you there in the New Year. XO!
And now, a few handy tools to aid you:
First, the ingenious Web 2.0 Suicide Machine, which will quickly and completely extinguish your Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn and MySpace accounts:
Next, Write Room software that simulates the archaic, uncluttered, distraction-free interface of DOS, just a blinking green cursor on a black screen, so you can work on the next great 21st century novel in peace:
Finally, the Suicide Booth in Second Life, which will vaporize your persona into a fine red mist: