This Week's Face

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Hamlet is a little vague. Things. Presumably these things include faces. As in, what face are you wearing this week? A question with special meaning on Facebook, where you can look like whomever you please for whatever reason you want. Some reasons are political.

The Face of the Week phenomenon came to my notice a year back or so, when the idea spread, phage-like, that everybody should change their profile picture to whatever celebrity they most resemble. Response was surprisingly swift and widespread. It was amusing to see who looked like whom. The only rule, if you could call it that, was to keep the pic posted for one week, an arbitrary length of time. Not as fleeting as a day nor as trying as a month (a lifetime on Facebook) and just long enough to register on the newsfeed.

Then it was childhood pic week, and then favorite author week, and on and on. What I thought a one-time deal turned into an outright phenomenon. Things (that word again) turned a corner when changing your profile pic meant showing solidarity for a political cause. When the Mavi Marmara was attacked off the shores of Gaza, wearing a protest sign as profile pic displayed your sympathetic support. A long way from Let's Pretend We're Celebrities.

This week's is to fly an image of your favorite childhood cartoon character in opposition to child abuse. I can get behind that, yet the impact of changing your pic is so limited. What purpose does it really serve? I'm against it, but solidarity doesn't fight child abuse or even address it. The only people who will see your profile pic are friends, none of whom (we hope) are abusers and who are therefore already in agreement with you. Some of my friends have railed against the stupidity of taking part in such a pointless exercise; others, instead of changing their pic, posted links to get actively involved in fighting abuse against children. I did both. Does it matter?

Facebook is a self-perpetuating experiment in groupthink, where unanimity is preferred over quality decision-making, a heaven-earth mashup teeming with Hamlet's things, philosophical or otherwise, wise or foolish, altogether human. Which is not to say I take it so seriously that I believe my profile pic is of any consequence outside the arena of faces. Still, it's more fun to take part than stand apart... when it comes to things dreamt of in my philosophy.

Felines and Digital Ego, Mixtapes and Mom

An influential friend got me hooked on the idea of digital ego some years back. I've been fascinated since with the idea of online identity and how it departs/depends from who we are in the "real" world. Lately I put this into practice when creating an avatar for my novel blog.

Digital ego suits my philosophy that it is better not to know what an author looks like. I prefer to let books create imagery in my head and when I see the writer's mug, it negatively impacts the experience. In this spirit, I crafted an avatar that looks nothing like me. The author has to look like something, right? For now, or until an agent tells me otherwise, I'm content to have the world think "James MacAdam" (pictured above) is a slightly creepy-looking guy who loves winged horses.

This got me thinking. Do I want to be totally separate from my digital ego? So far, I've limited my personal output (that is, what I choose to post about on zeitheist) to scattershot subjects, ranging from apocalypses to the occasional political rant. While true enough, the posts come from me, it's also true they present only a shallow portrait. Reflecting on this got me thinking about things I love.

Not to be morbid, but I thought about beloved subjects that are no longer in my life. Three particular things come up, incited more than a little by some of the great blogs I read daily: cats, music and Mom.


Cats were a big part of my life growing up. Though allergies at my house prevent us having any around, I love cats dearly. My last was a tabby named Karma. Sweet runt of the litter, Karma had the canniest expression I've ever seen, human or otherwise. Cats in general seem to be onto something. Out of all the madness in the world, they make more sense than just about anything.


Mixtapes. Making mixtapes used to the end-all, be-all of my existence. So much so, in fact, that one wall of my office is dedicated to something I call my autosonicograpy, essentially two decades' worth of my favorite music mixed with soundbites, captured sounds and conversations, and other ephemera. If you are one of those folks who thinks about the first thing you would grab in a fire, this is mine.


Seeing how many smart and funny mothers there are blogging these days, I often wonder what my own would have thought of the phenomenon. She was a woman who loved to laugh, and I don't wonder that she would get a kick out of the opportunities for expression that exist today. I can only imagine that she would have posted about her favorite things, namely purses, music and cats. Of course, knowing how much she adored being outdoors and taking long walks, the idea of Mom blogging makes me think she would laugh and call me a silly goose for even suggesting the idea.

Anyhow, these are but a few items distinct from my digital ego. Schizo as it might sound, they seem part of a different person than the one presented online. Do you experience this kind of separation, or does it seem that your offline self is reflected more completely in the digital realm?