👍 Why People Like your Posts?
Clue: it's not because they like them.
I was celebrating my brother’s birthday this weekend, so I’m posting something I wrote 15 years ago, so it probably stinks of naivety, but whiff away.
Not that deep down, everyone genuinely really, really really likes it when people ‘like’ their stuff on instagram. That dirty blend of synthetic social interaction, a bogus sense of achievement and false popularity, sure does feel good. It triggers some kind of pathetic, barely registrable rush - leaving us all clucking for the next thumbs up.
There’s a whole slew of motives that might have you stamping your mild approval on that latest insta happening. Not only that, before you award someone the prestigious digit, there are a handful of factors to consider. Our inner-voice must first jabber through a complex vetting algorithm. To make sure it’s socially and politically sound to give the go-ahead.
Loyalty ‘Like’
The microscopic slice of your online friends you would conceivably take a bullet for, well, they get thumbed unconditionally. Hell, you’ll ‘like’ it even if you loathe it, because that’s what friends are for. When it comes to the bulk of your cyber associates for who you would flap a non-committal, doing-my-best-about-the-whole-bullet-situation gesture, the ‘liking’ politics get tricky. As for those you would strive to get gunned down, things trickier still.
Spite ‘Like’
Some pouting wart on your past has resurfaced right in the centre of you news feed. But, hold on, instead of the usual excruciating, sexed-up projection of their lives, they’re broadcasting some kind of discomfort. Feeling realllllly poorly :( :( :(
Here’s something we can really get on board with. This you ‘like’. You like that karma is fighting the good fight against their immune system; you like that it’s the perfect amount of suffering for you to ‘like’ it guilt-free; and most of all, you like the perverse satisfaction of picturing them assuming you’re rallying behind them in their hour of need. It’s a juicy, victimless venting of spite.
Obligation ‘Like’
Pre-social media, the 46 drunken seconds you spent befriending some guy on the basis of their impressive ‘tache, would be the extent of your relationship. Now, that stache and its owner will one day share in the joy of your newborn child.
With some strangers you share a strange, symbiotic ‘liking’ relationship. You’ve been propping up each others ‘like’ counts since records began. The mutual massaging of each other’s internet presence has long outlived any real life relationship. If you saw them in the mall, you would probably stop, drop and roll. Never the less, you’ll keep ‘liking’ each other’s shit for all eternity, like a joyless game of ‘tag’ that only death can settle.
Spite ‘Like’ II
Every now and then, a post pops up so spectacularly cringeworthy and/or unpleasant, that it warrants a ‘like’. This person must be officially recognised for their outstanding contribution to awfulness. To witness such an exceptional career dickhead is life-affirming. Not in the grand scheme of things, of course, but on a purely selfish, personal level. Even at your lowest, when you are wincing with shame and your morals are taking a sabbatical, you will still have the high ground on this waste of a soul. Really, you are ‘liking’ what a slightly better person you are. Everyone likes a villain.
‘Like’ What You See, Do Ya?
A lot of the time, we are ‘liking’ stuff on behalf of our genitals. Up there with religiously favoriting their tweets, it’s probably the easiest, least ballsiest way to imply that you wouldn’t mind canoodling with someone. The general idea being a simple click will set in motion a series of events, ending with you consummating your Facebook attraction with some good old fashioned, real world sex.
The display picture is a cattle market where admirer’s ‘likes’ shout out their interest. If the photo is comprised of a non-buddy marketing themselves to a lens, the intention of the ‘like’ is explicit. Those in relationships are treated to a monthly break down of everyone who wants to poach their loved one. Remember now, friends don’t let their homely homies’ profile pictures stay in single figures.
If you’re far too discrete and debonair for such an upfront declaration, you could ‘like’ a photo where they aren’t seducing the camera or where there’s something fun going on. This way your intent is slightly more mysterious and ambiguous. Hey, I just like the fact that you are having fun. And maybe probably I want to sex you? All this only applies if the photo pops up on the news feed, of course. You wouldn’t want the recipient to feel like you’ve hunted them out and have been rifling systematically through their life, like a pervert through a trash bag.
For an even more subtle and sophisticated approach, perhaps just like some recent success in their life or a song they post. This could indicate that you have the same taste in music (and want to shag them) or you are pretend-psyched about their exam results (and still want to shag them). There’s still a sniff of underlying intent when ‘liking’ a dumb video someone has shared of an arrogant cat.
The Facebooker even ‘likes’ an attractive person who may as well be dead to them. They were your mate’s ex-fiance’s best mate or they’ve emigrated, and ‘liking’ their picture is as likely to result in sexual congress as scattering sachets of semen out of a hot air balloon. No odds are too long, no ‘like’ too optimistic.
Drunk ‘Like’
In the muddled mindset of the drunken scroller, all the unspoken codes of conduct go stumbling out the window. Near-strangers just feel like old friends. You ‘like’ with reckless abandon, putting as many thumbs in as many pies as you can: Ex’s mum’s cover photo - Yeah I like that! Photo of yourself looking fresh from 2 years ago - Damn, yeah I like that! Dude you don’t recognise mourning their Great Nan - They need me right now. I like that! Exactly how the social norms fall away in a bar, the constrictions of online interaction dissolve.
Waking groggily up, you’ll find your Facebook presence near the top of your regret list. Your open screen shows an ominous number of notifications, which you decide it is probably best not to acknowledge.
I’m not sure if I’ve voiced some unspoken doctrine, or I’m just weird. Either way, writing about this has made me feel intensely lonely. A few of them Likes sure would pick me up though...
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Lest we not forget the "like" according to when's a chord hath been struck - Similar to that of Pavlov's dog who is responding to the ringing of a bell.