Letters to the Editor
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MyDeathSpace.com
Kudos to Mike Patterson for tapping into basic human curiosity regarding death. I have never browsed MySpace.com, but will certainly be checking out MyDeathSpace.com. It's only human nature. These people on MySpace.com set themselves up by posting every aspect of their mundane lives and their moronic pictures of themselves for everyone to see, but when they died, we're supposed to believe that they would have wished to be treated like cloistered monks? If they wished to inflict their lives upon others, their death should be fair game as well. People are deserving of dignity in death if they've sought dignity in life. Death should not impose instant gravitas upon a person. These people, with their ridiculous pages, are attempting to achieve some sort of pathetic fame without accomplishment. Well, why all the complaining? For what achieves fame better than an early death? Guess what - they won! Life is a part of death (natch) and, if they've chosen to be online exhibitionists, then, in this cyberage, MyDeathSpace.com now goes with the territory. Or did these blockheads think that they would never die? If Mike Patterson's website causes only one person to stop and think about posting a MySpace page (or at least to consider carefully what they post on it) because someday a cynic like me might be chuckling over the irony of it on MyDeathSpace.com, it will be a rousing success. By the way, if there are any "Calliopes" on MySpace.com, be assured - they're not me.
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Keep It In The Family
For people brought up on the idea that nothing need be private, all of this makes perfect sense. As in life, they are in death. The fact that this form of remembrance attracts clueless, gawkers prepared to attack the friends, family and the dead themselves should come as no surprise. This persona; the uncompassionate, in control, know-it-all, with a massive sense of entitlement, thrives on the ‘net.
I know this may seem controversial in this era of tell-all, but maybe some things need not be available for public comment and perusal. Maybe there are some experiences that should be shared with people you have actually met and no one else.
I can’t imagine anything more irrelevant and pointless than the snap judgement of a stranger concerning the death and life of one of my family or friends.
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Bwahaha
Hey Calliope10, doesn't posting your inane comments on an online news magazine subject the rest of us to your own "mundane" life?
I am always so shocked day in and day out about people whining about myspace as other social networking sites. Good for you that you feel morally superior than those who choose to participate. No one really cares though.
Being attracted to death is one thing, hell it's natural, we're all gonna die, but don't you think that being an asshole to those that grieve, people you don't even know and don't affect your life in anyway, is crossing the line?
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A sign of the times.
Great piece. Hats off to Mr. Pietras for doing his part to pull us a little further into this new reality we inhabit. We all live here, and newsflash - there's no such thing as privacy any more. I can no sooner condemn people for posting on mydeathspace as I could the people who spend hours each day posting on myspace, or any other space on the internet for that matter. It's all voyeurism and everyone with access to the internet does it in one form or another. As the previous poster suggested, at least the existence of mydeathspace might give people pause when they're about to post their daily 1000-word blog entry on their myspace page. We're all connected now in historically unprecedented ways, and stories like this are welcome wake-up calls. Little slaps in the face that remind us just what kind of world we live in. Plan accordingly.
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The Red Button
There is a famous thought experiment in ethics that addresses this issue. A person is placed in an room with a red button in front of him. The person is then told he will get $1000, or some amount of money, each time he presses the red button. The catch? Every time he presses it, someone in China (or some far away country) dies.
The point of the exercise is to examine how often a person will perform an act of total self-interest that causes great harm to others if that person never has to face the consequences of his actions.
This is the internet in brief. You can reach out and hurt someone, enjoy the pleasure of being cruel, and never have to face the person you have hurt. If MyDeathSpace is indicative of human nature, there are a lot of people out there who would press that red button, over and over again, with abandon.
Which leads to the next question. Who is more evil, the person who makes the cutting remarks, or the web administrator who creates the safe haven for these cretins to bring out their worst?
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"Alas poor randomprofile-name i knew him not at all,"
"Where be your gibes now? your
gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own grinning?"
-Hamlet
A couple of days ago, i was sitting on the train - clown's to left of me, fools to the right. All reading Harry Potter and the excuse for an absurd over extended title. Stuck in the middle with Nietzsche, i have never felt more like the Uber-mensch in my life.
However this comes off the back of an 'anti-capitalism/lets all hug each-other' rally at the Rock the Bells/Rage against the machine concert. As a creature of extremes it might be fitting, but awful confusing. It's one thing to hold disdain for people dumb enough to expect an interesting ending. But to actually embrace some vague notion of humanity involves relating to them in some way. With this in mind i bought my cousin a copy of the book and resisted the urge to tear out the last chapter.
Morbid curiosity doesn't justify the time wasted in a general fruitless pursuit of a gut wrenching reaction. If you wish to speculate on death, go to a cancer ward see it in person, wax philosophical of the pointlessness of it all, and watch how they laugh at you "poor little healthy children".
Callous commentary is a far cry from Hamlet's ruminations in both eloquence and purpose.Be thankful your friends are still here and get a hobby!