Redes sociais - a utopia

O Facebook permite-nos ser deuses na terra.

Em primeiro lugar podemos lá colocar as nossas melhores fotografias; desta forma nunca verão a nossa pior cara ou a nossa pior pose. A não ser que queiramos. Podemos entre o vasto número de fotos que uma máquina digital permite registar, colocar na rede o melhor de nós.

Controlamos também aquilo que dizemos, se é que temos algo de interessante para dizer. Caso não haja grande coisa para dizer podemos ter uma ligação com outras pessoas ou organizações que normalmente dizem coisas interessantes. Sem percebermos um peido do que quer que seja é possível assim, passarmos por 'connaisseurs' de uma dada matéria, partilhando aquilo que os outros dizem. É a artimanha perfeita: somos uns porreiros por partilhar com os outros coisas à maneira.

O mesmo para a música por exemplo. Vamos ouvindo isto e aquilo na rádio. Se virmos uma determinada música sendo colocada por vários 'amigos' deduzimos facilmente que a música é popular. Se lá a colocarmos também decerto não faremos má figura.

Os amigos. Coisa que por ali não falta. Enquanto que na vida real quando vemos alguém e temos vontade de ir ter com aquela pessoa e falar com ela provavelmente não o fazemos, enquanto que na rede, um simples clique inicia uma pequena relação. Fortuita e patética provavelmente, mas não deixa de ser uma relação. E não é assim tão difícil chegar a umas boas centenas destes ditos amigos. Daquela maralha, falamos de forma regular com umas sete ou oito pessoas, e de vez em quando com umas vinte ou trinta. Podemos portanto, ser populares sem o sermos. É digno de registo.

É um conceito idêntico ao dos centros comerciais: não existe crime, controlamos todos os nossos passos e podemos sempre com um simples clique afastar aquilo que é indesejável. Aqui ainda existe outra vantagem: não se gasta dinheiro no processo. A vida não é assim e estas fugas da realidade só tornarão a última mais pesada quando com ela nos confrontamos.

The 'Fuck Vintage' Manifesto

First let’s talk about the vintage concept. It flies somewhere along these lines: we are out of new ideas. Mankind has produced more information in the last thirty years than in the last five thousand one's. You see, it's really a big number of ideas. As so, disruption is very very hard to achieve. So what we in the vintage industry thought about: lets recover all that shit that went out of fashion twenty, thirty or in some cases forty years ago, and sell it one hundred and fifty times the price those things were valued back then. How are we going to do this? Let’s start with the young adults first. They really want to be different - it's human nature - so let’s explore that innate feeling. They are already used to pay a quarter of their salary for a t-shirt, so let's rumble up the thing and make it half a salary t-shirts. Same goes for furniture, glasses, shoes, cars, bicycles, cigarettes, drinks, music and all that you can actually think of. They'll think they are really offstream despite the fact they're using shit their grandparents used to wear in a normal weekday. We're good at this point. But I think it would be rather much more interesting to take it to another level. So trough advertising we managed to position this concept into some sort of intellectual thing. With it, we are actually helping the bookstore industry for example: they're selling Camus, Kafka and Dostoyevsky like if there is no tomorrow. Even dogs are called Kafka so you can have a fucking idea. Same goes with the watch business for example: the old ugly Casio is selling like shit again. With this kind of positioning we are saying that being vintage is not for everyone. So it’s a commercial paradox: a product that was mainstream and affordable is now offstream and expensive. And as stupid it may seem explained this way it’s working millions of bucks for our vintage bank accounts.

My toughts on this: when this sort of vintage I'm so intelectual I can't look at you properly people stare at you, just tell them there's a whole real world awaiting for them. Reality isn't based on wearing accessories that were mainstream decades ago and are now exclusive to big bang wallet owners. By the way, most of them are now on their 30's and are still living with their parents along with their Ancient Literature degree which only useful purpose I can remember, is too wipe your ass with it. Also, they will bang your head with stupid theories that are nothing but nonsense and that were already dissected somewhere in the past, but hey, they're reading the oldies and forgot to read the stuff that actually sent those dumbass theories to outer space. So basically, vintage is fucking vintage.

One thing is look to the past and watch yourself on funny clothes because everyone else was wearing it. Another is too making it on purpose just to be different and say to you in the morning: I'm offstream. What the fuck? So this is why you're going to be remembered: a person who wears clothes from another time era, who picked old books and furniture from the street garbage and spent their night weekends in some pseudo sitting bar listening tunes from your mother's afternoon disco revenge parties.

Amusing uh? Anyways, we are already rich at this point, so enjoy your butterfly king lifestyle while we go to the mainstream Bahamas islands and drink our mainstream Margueritas along with the mainstream two hundred dollars an hour prostitutes.