Please. For the love of the Indiana Jones
trilogy, will all of you Instagram addicts out there stop using hashtags?
For full effect, play
“Take On Me” by A-Ha, which was rated by Rolling Stone as the Number 1 one-hit
wonder of all time, right above Dexy’s Midnight Runners “Come On Eileen”, and
Chumbawamba’s “Tubthumping”. I
choose this only because it is the background music that epitomizes hip trends
that fade fast, which is exactly what hashtags are.
Sometimes I lay in bed at
night and curse Mark Zuckerburg for buying out the woman’s guide to posting
annoying pictures of every waking second of their lives for $1 billion. No, we don’t want to see your Jalapeno
spinach Quinoa cakes, your foot long hot dog at the Atlanta Braves spring
training day, or when you drew a mustache on your pointer finger and made a black and
white montage of six photos.
Sadly, all three of those
have been on my feed in the last 45 minutes.
Taking pictures is one
thing, and I understand the stereotypical female with low self-esteem’s need to
document every single snapshot that will ever take place in their entire life,
but why do you feel the need to write a novel with no spaces just to get our
attention at how AWESOME and UNIQUE your photos are? And what demon that wasn't cast in the film The Exorcist thought it would be a brilliant idea to add
the pound sign before every single one of these mini-narratives?
Seriously weirdos, this has to
stop. Do you all really understand
the purpose of hashtags? They are
designed so if someone searches for a topic that is similar to what you posted,
they may by chance stumble upon your photo and/or tweet. Tell me this, how many people search
the terms #breastpumpingmybostonterrier, #myloveandaffectioncanbeboughtwithhoneydos,
or #myhairisthelongest?
Internet Troll: “I really
just want to see random photos of people with very long hair.”
NO THEY DON’T! ARE YOU NOT
GETTING THE CONCEPT OF THE HASHTAG?!
Again, the above-mentioned
hashtags have been lifted from my actual Facebook feed page. I actually know someone that has tried
to breast pump a Boston terrier.
Don’t ask me why I know this person, they just exist. And why they
decided to put the pound sign in front of their disgusting action is beyond
me. It’s something I don’t
understand at all.
But that’s the thing, I
don’t think all of you actually understand hashtags in the first place. I think you’re missing the concept of
why we use them. You think that by using flashy wit with no spaces and starting
it off with a pound sign that we’ll appreciate your photo that much more? Hashtags are the pet rocks of social
media. Nobody has a clue why we
use them, they’re just the trendy thing to be a part of so we might as well
join them, right?
Wrong. Hashtags are pointless. A step in the
wrong direction of mankind’s potential intelligence. A sign that shows we are only using less than 1% of those
lumps attached to our necks. Take
my little sister Lunchbox for example, who this afternoon toyed with the idea
of giving her soon to be born daughter Raleigh, the middle name of hashtag. THAT’S RIGHT! My niece’s name would be
Raleigh # Bybee. Who the curse
word thinks that’s a good idea?
No one. She might as well give it a manly
middle name like Ross, or Elner, or something weird like that.
Give it up all of you
stalkers that check your feed every six minutes and upload pictures of soggy
bowls of Captain Crunch and pink retro granny bikes you rode to work this
morning. We see that you need the
attention with thumbs up signs and little remarks about your photos making you
feel like we actually care, but must you continually write a four-page essay
without using the space bar and think that adds value to your contribution to
social media?
Because honestly, it makes
you look like a complete jacka##.
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