On (the wrong) line : Desire to be Meaningfully Engaged

I'm gonna go see Barbie in a couple of hours. I caved.

To be fair, I'm being dramatic here. I didn't fight it so hard in the first place. I don't typically buy into trends. Not ever, actually, so I'm allowing myself this once.

It got me to thinking. On one hand, the whole Barbenheimer "battle" is, in my opinion, a pretty dope marketing strategy. First, because you can't escape it. Whether you're ridiculing Barbie, fangirling about it, or pitting one against the other, you're talking about it. And isn't that what effective marketing does? Get as many people as possible talking about your product. Obviously, the whole thing is directed. I saw somewhere an interview with Cillian Murphy saying how he thought it was healthy competition, and he was gonna go see Barbie on the premiere. I don't think it's healthy competition. I think it's sweet promotional content, though.

Anyway, most of he people I've talked to who want to see Barbie aren't really Barbie people. As in, we're the sort of people for whom the existence of this movie would've remained unnoticed. Personally, I didn't even know there was a Barbie movie until the press exploded with this "premiere battle" thing. I thought it was a joke.

So what is it? Why would you go see a movie you wouldn't normally care about?

To meme on it, sure. To be a troll, which can be fun. Part of the reason I'm going myself is to troll, which brings us to the meaty under-layer of this Barbie/Oppenheimer bs.

So many of us are desperate to be part of the conversation. This can mean creators, sure. I myself was quick to put out my own take on Oppenheimer, after going to see it on the premiere day (to be fair, I wanted to see that a long time, and would've gone regardless of the press). But more often, it means regular people. People who maybe don't want to write an opinion or review or whatever.

At the end of the day, we just wanna get the memes.

And we want to be part of the global online community we exist in, and at present, it's talking about this. I was talking movies with my cousin the other day (definitely not a Barbie person), and she admitted she wanted to see Barbie too. Kinda guiltily, because in this twisted family, judgment is an Olympic sport. But she knew I'd get it. Get that it's not about seeing this seemingly idiotic movie. It's not about being a Barbie person. It's about having an opinion, or contributing, even if only through a heart emoji, to your community.

Which suggests we're missing that engagement elsewhere.

If I want to have an opinion on Barbenheimer, it's trite. Sure. It's self-centered. True again. But hey, most people are. It's natural to want to have your opinion taken into account by your group, and it's kinda pointless to try to convince people they shouldn't. But what kinds of communities are we existing in, if we feel so desperately unheard? We define ourselves in terms of our larger online world, precisely because our "real" worlds are sadly growing smaller by the second.

We have created such an effective substitute for real-world interaction that I no longer need actual people around me to discuss a movie with. I can do it online. Anyway, this isn't a doom-and-gloom about the Internet.

Rather, a musing. In today's digital era, are we more connected or less? In a way, it seems to lean towards "more", right? We have a lot more means to connect with our people than we used to before. So could it then just be our old system, holding on to habit, that's leaning towards "less", and telling us digitalization is a bad thing?

A shame in wanting to connect?

My cousin was a tad ashamed to admit wanting to see Barbie. So was my brother. Why? Because it's kinda saying, "I know it's a crap movie, but i just don't wanna be left out by the conversation".

But is that something to be ashamed about? Wanting to belong to a community? not in the slightest. Rather, it's that impulse that has helped us survive for so long.

Yet, the shame is there. So maybe it's not the desire to belong that makes us feel bad, but rather what we're belonging to. I think some of us recognize that our larger digital community is kinda stupid. Mediocre. With simplified, simplistic discourse, more often than not. It's that dumb friend we can't stop hanging out with. So maybe hence the shame at wanting to fit in?

See, I don't think the problem is spending too much time online. It's about being on the wrong line. Subjugating ourselves to a community that doesn't really cut it for us. But then, what's the alternative? We've made it hard for individuals to stray from the herd, and seek out smaller, more meaningful, more true-to-me communities, so we stick with what we know.

Yet, if seeking out your tribe now is hard now, in the future, it may be impossible. Social channels are narrowing. The desire for complex, intellectual discourse is being drowned out. Think it's hard to fit in now? Try again in ten years. I've a somber feeling about it.

Anyway, that's enough waxing poetic outta me. Imma go iron my pink, floral dress, and head to the mall. I am (I hope) seeking out smart discourse, and acceptance to more meaningful communities closer to my heart. But I also kinda wanna stay plugged into what the rest of the group is doing. All for now.