Always looking for a paradise island, help me find it everywhere

A beautiful day, to be sure. Janelle and I walked over to the Somerville Theater and saw Watchmen, which upheld my suspicion that I'd enjoy it more than the graphic novel. The movie was faithful to the book, but it was more effective and moving in my opinion. The dense exposition in the book was covered incredibly well and didn't slow the pacing one bit. The movie hit all the right notes, from the acting to the cinematography. And there were some surprising, yet effective song selections, to boot. We agreed the film warrants another viewing, this time in IMAX. Spira, if you're reading this, you should join us; I'm almost positive you'll love this movie.

After the movie, we got a couple of cappuccinos and hung out in Davis Sq and enjoyed the day. Back at home, I got changed and went for a run. It was exhilarating, I tell ya, finally being able to be out in shorts.

A few posts back, I wrote about Facebook and some of it's members mundane and too- frequent posting habits. Well, I was just reading Bill Simmons' column for ESPN (which, even if you don't follow sports is a joy to read) and this week he answered reader's mail. Here's a Q & A about Facebook that addresses more succinctly and humorously than I did the reason why many of the people on it can be so irksome.

Q: Can you think of the sports equivalent of the spouses of buddies whose Facebook friend-request you accepted who constantly update their status on the topic of taking care of their kids? Like "Jenn is watching her little ones nap" and "Sarah is playing 'Bob the Builder' with her kids! Yay!" As a 28-year-old unmarried man, it's not that I don't appreciate females or motherhood, it's just that I don't care. For the same reason that I don't update my status with "Kully just put on jock itch cream."
-- Kully, Guangzhou, China

SG: Wouldn't the sports equivalent be like ending up with an undesirable throw-in for an NBA trade (aka Marcus Banks)? The more interesting angle for me is how Twitter and Facebook reflect where our writing is going thanks to the Internet. In 15 years, writing went from "reflecting on what happened and putting together some coherent thoughts" to "reflecting on what happened as quickly as possible" to "reflecting on what's happening as it's happening" to "here are my half-baked thoughts about absolutely anything and I'm not even going to attempt to entertain you," or as I like to call it, Twitter/Facebook Syndrome. Do my friends REALLY CARE if I send out an update, "Bill is flying on an airplane finishing a mailbag right now?" (Which is true, by the way.) I just don't think they would. I certainly wouldn't. That's why I refuse to use Twitter.

As for Facebook, I don't mind getting status updates and snapshots of what my friends' lives are like -- even if "Bob the Builder" is prominently involved -- as long as they aren't posting 10 times a day or writing something uncomfortable about their spouse/boyfriend like "(Girl's name) is … trying to remember the last time she looked at her husband without wanting to punch him in the face" or "(Girl's name) is … just going to keep eating, it's not like I have sex anymore." Keep me out of your personal business, please. Other than that, the comedy of status updates can be off the charts. Like my college classmate who sends out status updates so overwhelmingly mundane and weird that my buddies and I forward them to each other, then add fake responses like, "(Guy's name) … snapped and killed a drifter tonight" and "(Guy's name) … would hang myself if the ceilings in my apartment weren't too short." It kills us. We can't get enough of it. We have been doing it for four solid months. And really, that's what Facebook is all about -- looking at photos of your friend's kids or any reunion or party, making fun of people you never liked and searching for old hook-ups and deciding whether you regret the hook-up or not. That's really it. All in all, I like Facebook.