#latergram - christine salek

[luckyzukky]

there was an expectation, depending on the platform, that the recipient of our message would reply within a certain timeframe. if we didn’t expect to be able to reply to an instant message within a minute, we might as well put up an away message that we’re doing chores brb. we must announce our intention to brb, or bbs, or bbl. if we don’t, we won’t get instant messages anymore. one day i logged in for the last time. unlike others, i know the exact date—september 30, 2015—because i tweeted about it. I just signed in to AIM for the first time since…2010? No one was online. It was illuminating. another thing about instant messenger etiquette is that you were expected to reply to every message you received. it was patriarchal, in a way. a boy could force himself onto you and you’d be the bitch for ignoring his message. we didn’t have read receipts back then but when a message window popped up onto your screen, often with an accompanying alert sound, it wasn’t like you could pretend you didn’t see it. one guy i knew would message me within seconds of me signing on. for him, if someone was online, he had to say “hi” just that: “hi” his font was size 10 gray times new roman, almost imperceptible, as if he hadn’t chosen it himself and needed to pry his way into everyone’s lives so he would be known. i’d reply back, “hi” “wat up” “nm u” “nm” was it the desire for communication or the desire for control? how much did we really know about each other in 2004 if this was the extent of so much of our communication? the immediacy, though, was what made it real. some say the internet is speeding up, that we are more connected than ever, that we are perhaps too connected. some don’t know that instagram gave us a reprieve, even if we had to brute-force it with a hashtag. immediacy be damned as we waited a whole day to post our pictures from the party, and it was okay, and people understood, when they saw the #latergram hashtag, so we knew we’d missed this connection, so we knew they got to savor their moment for just a little longer before unleashing it, and we knew that even though they would post it, and we knew they would post it, that maybe we were doing something wrong when we’d post things as soon as they happened, when we signed on to say “hi” and eagerly awaited responses as we watched the baseball game we’d just posted about unfold in front of us. i want people to know i am here. i want people to know i am living this moment right now. why would i put up an away message when the stadium has wi-fi, when my iphone has a good camera, when i finally have the power to play life-size show and tell? why would my friends outside the stadium expect anything less?

(christine salek)
(source)