“Addiction is actually the point.”

It would seem more people are getting it. Via Cal Newport’s blog post, Senator Hawley on Social Media: “addiction is actually the point.”

“Social media only works as a business model if it consumes users’ time and attention day after day after day. It needs to replace the various activities we did perfectly well without social media, for the entire known history of the human race with itself. It needs to replace those activities with time spent on social media. So that addiction is actually the point.

-Josh Hawley, Missouri Senator (emphasis mine)

And another great one – I’m stealing these directly from Cal’s post, but they’re too good to pass up. Cal’s original post is short and well worth the click-through to read.

“This is what some of our brightest minds have been doing with their time for years now. Designing these platforms, designing apps that integrate with them. I mean, what else might they have been doing?

-Josh Hawley, (emphasis again, mine)

It’s refreshing to hear a politician – any politician – talking in such a frank manner. Video of full speech available on the Senator’s website, and is totally worth your time.

Why Facebook Algorithms Are Like Gambling

I used to hate the random postiness Facebook algorithms used to fill my feed and the fact that it changed every time I viewed it. Now I enjoy it.

It’s the social media equivalent of pulling the arm on a slot machine. It’s your online VLT. You can come up short or hit the jackpot each and every  time you refresh/reload the page. Damn, that adrenaline rush. Can you feel the winning? Definitely sounds like something that would fit perfectly in Vegas.


If you don’t like what you see in your feed you can change it up. You get to adjust the amount of crazy you see in your feed to suit your needs or even mood at that particular moment.

Too many political crazies? Reload. Cat post brain explosion? Reload. One too many Jack Handey-esque inspirational sunrise memes? Reload.

You never know what you’ll get. Just keep reloading that page until you’re happy with the results.

It can get a little frustrating when you’re actually trying to find a specific post that you’d seen earlier and want to share or comment on. Chances are if you reload enough times – like maybe try a good half-hour or so of reloading, it will pop up again. I mean, you’ve got the time, right? You could go to the persons’ profile that made the post originally, or search for it, but that’s a lot of heavy lifting.

Just reload. Reload and get a new batch of stuff uniquely curated for you. Don’t like who Facebook thinks you are at that moment? Reload.

Facebook understands. Facebook gets me. Their slogan should be, Facebook: we put the ME in social media.

Soon, Instagram will be the same too. Time thinks it’s a good thing, so it must be ok. Life is a gamble. Shouldn’t your online experience be too? THE THRILLS!

Tired of guys posting about the strange and annoying quirks of Facebook and Instagram when you’d rather see a cute puppy video? Reload.

An open letter to anyone who’s ever bought me a drink.

Hey man, that was great, thanks for picking up that round. What a killer time we had.

Unfortunately, after you bailed because you had to be up early the next day, I stayed at the bar and drank with those couple of people we met there. Then, when they left, I drank until the bar closed. Alone. Then I got in the car and drove home – quite obviously something I shouldn’t have done – and when I got home, I checked to see what we had around the house to drink.

I’m embarrassed to admit how many times this little scenario has played out in my lifetime. How many times I’ve woken up in the morning not being able to remember how I got home or who I insulted/offended beforehand. I’ve well exceeded my limit of ‘second chances’ and ‘close calls’. It’s time to stop now. Really, the clock is ticking and at this rate, it’s not a question of ‘if’ my luck will run out, but ‘when’.

Some of you will remember, ’round this time last year, I quit drinking. Well, I did, for 6 months, then had a touch here and there. Started thinking I could do so in moderation, but over the past few months it’s become readily apparent to me that I can’t.

I don’t want it to get weird with us. I know in the past I’ve always felt weird and didn’t know how to act around people when they told me they didn’t drink or had quit. Probably partly in due to the fact that it reminded me that I had a problem myself.

“Oh. Uh. Sorry.” Hides beer behind back. Retreats. Communication tapers off, never to be heard from again.

Honestly, it’s been so long that it’s hard for me to even interact without alcohol. Fact of the matter is, it freaks me right the fuck out to think about going anywhere with a group of people without it. And go to a bar and not order a drink? Forget it. Not happening man.

Some of you I’ve been drinking with so long, it’s second nature. It’s intrinsic. It will be weird no matter what, but it’s gotta happen.

I have to re-learn how to interact with people without it and that’s gonna take me some time. Be patient with me while I straighten my shit out. It will mean less nights out for me – and/or shorter ones, or bouts of moody weirdness, but I’ll get it.

So that’s it boys and girls, it was fun while it lasted. I’m tired of the guilt and the loneliness and the shame. I’m tired of being ‘owned’ by it and living in fear of when the next shoe will drop.

I was talking with Lyn about it and she says to me “It’s a choice, you know. A choice you have to make.”

“It’s a disease, too.” I said.

“Yes. But even people with the disease still have to make the choice.”

So I’ll be making that choice. Now, tomorrow, all the time, for the rest of my time. I realize now the meaning of it. That you’re never really ‘cured’ – that’s where I made my mistake before. From here on out I’m a recovering alcoholic – that’s what it will mean to get up in one piece every day and feel good about myself.

So this Thanksgiving that’s what I’m thankful for – I made it out alive – with my conscience semi-intact – when so many haven’t. My family and friends are still in one piece and I get to move forward with their love and support. I’m lucky to have that.

So next time you see me you don’t be afraid to ask me how it’s going. I’ll probably tell you it’s rough sometimes – but that’s alright, what’s important is that it IS going. It’s a part of who I am now and it will always be.

You don’t have to hide your beer – just buy me a soda.

“It’s not you, it’s me. I think we should just be friends.”

Hi. I’m Kent. I’m a recovering alcoholic. I’ve been sober for 5 days.