Recently I’ve become a journalist; before this I was merely a writer. Not prolific, not published, not very good, but a writer nonetheless. Making things up was a requisite rather than a choice, and I could spend hours on end, just me and my imagination, writing crap that no one would ever read. About six weeks ago I emerged from the cocoon of my previous, solitary pursuit and found that I needed to grow immense, intricate and beautiful journalistic wings. Suddenly I was expected to write for an audience! People kept saying the same two words to me, over and over again; the only way to survive in this competitive, cutthroat industry:
Contacts. Networking.
A friend said that a friend had said to him: “If you don’t have a book bursting full of contacts by this time next year, you’ve failed”. No matter what skills you have; no matter how much guile and nous in finding the BIG story; no matter the size of your cahones; if you don’t have a book full of the details of people who know more than you do, its game over. There must be an easier way to accomplish this than actually talking to people..?
Apparently social media is big in journalism these days; they call it citizen journalism and it is both participatory and accessible, especially if you live just down the road from a toppling dictator or mega-tsunami. I wonder, can I use social media to become a better journalist? Everyone is familiar with the most notorious contact-based book on the web… Facebook. In fact, science has proven that your brain is actually bigger if you have more Facebook friends! I kid you not! Just look here…
Maybe I’m making some leaps of logic that science would frown upon, but I used to be a writer, and in those halcyon days creativity was my raison d’etre. The only smart thing to do would be to take an online IQ test, check my results, make a load of new friends on Facebook, sigh with smug self-satisfaction, then take the IQ test again, hypothesising that the results would represent an increase in my intelligence proportionally related to the amount my internet friends had grown.
I mean, what would you do?
Unfortunately my IQ test results came back negative and I have no brains whatsoever. Only kidding, I breezed through it and attained a highly respectable score of 123. The UK average is apparently 100, so that was yet another pleasantly smug and self-satisfying surprise.
Being neither shy nor modest, I’m proud to say that I already have 153 Facebook friends, and it feels great, like an amorphous blob of tiny pixelated humanity that is all my own. But it’s not enough: Justin Beiber has 37,619,350 Facebook friends, and he’s a bit of a knob… The time has come to build some bridges…
18/11/11 07:55: I accept five friend requests from people I don’t know/don’t like. They must be relieved that, after several months in limbo, I have affirmed our blossoming friendship. 158
18/11/11 11:49: After some frantic clicking 49 more people have jumped upon my bandwagon to instant success. Some of them even want to talk to me (a couple, one just said hello)! I resolve to do some real journalism for the rest of the day, but unfortunately fail to hack into Kerry Katona’s mobile phone (her password wasn’t Iceland). 207
19/11/11 14:29: I’m so popular right now it’s becoming something of a burden. I feel like a human pog, or a minor character in secondary school Pokemon (gotta catch ‘em all). 267
22/11/11 11:46: Sick to the back teeth of trawling through pictures of people who I don’t know or who I once played football with on some tennis courts several years ago, or sat next to in a German class, or became best friends with for a couple of hours before succumbing to post-inebriated shame. It’s not quite a Bieber level of popularity, but I’m up to 299.
22/11/11 12:53: I’ve had enough and deadline is in a couple of hours. I have 299 friends, thus if I include myself we are like a motley band of Spartans! There is a photojournalism project in there somewhere… 299. Fin.
Something is happening in my brain: I guess that this was how Tetsuo felt in Akira when he started expanding, although I pray that the consequences are less devastating. Time to take the test; I predict that my IQ will now be something in the region of 240. Having massaged my temples and done some lunges I feel pretty confident…
Disappointed really doesn’t express how I feel right now. My second IQ test came out with a score of 142, about 100 smart-points below my anticipated level. The questions were all the same as well, which makes me think that I probably got stupider by spending too much time on Facebook. Damn you science, you have let me down for the last time! No longer will I put faith in your stringent empirical experiments! The time has come to look for a decent creationist group on Facebook…
Here is a summary of my findings and conclusions: In order to be popular like Justin Bieber you need to have golden pipes and a cheeky housewife-arousing grin. In order to be a good journalist you have to spend less time on Facebook and more time talking to real people. In order to prove your intelligence you need to look a little further afield than a crappy online IQ test, although Mensa members have to pay £45 a year which doesn’t seem very smart.
Target Aquired | Mission Aborted 