The Digital Age Of Death.
A few days ago, we were given the heart-breaking news of the death of 25 year old Peaches, a fruitful lover of music, fashion and life and an inspiring mother of 2 and wife. Thousands were shocked and many more broken, by this unexpected fate. We don’t know why, yet, instead of celebrating the life of a much loved icon, many Heartless beasts within minutes speculated overdose or eating disorder and wrote so on the beautifully honest photos of her family on Instagram.
This is death in the digital age, where social media respond in seconds and old media report for hours, and back and forth as events roll out with live reaction and speculation. These symbiotic beasts have only recently devoured Philip Seymour Hoffman, and Bob Crow. Bob Crow!
Since Peaches tragic death, more than 90,000 people have newly followed her account on Twitter.She was resurrected by a hashtag and her name. Is it the hashtag that is so offensive – inviting the idly curious and excitable to an online wake, perhaps to post the acronym "RIP" – its full wording presumably being too long-winded to hold attention? But at least it wasn't that heinous thing, an emoticon. Can we take solace in that?
Mere tributes, some say: it is touching, a reaching-out to a stranger now lost. But is it really? To me, it feels like entertainment posted on to a random face, a hand clutching blindly for something vivid. I am aware that we all grieve in different ways, and I do not judge you, but a mere tweet or comment on Instagram is so impersonal that is seems unjustifiable.
I don’t know why, maybe because I am a secret hater yet avid user of social networking, but this recent media disgrace and terrible loss, has changed my outlook. The possibility of it all being over one day, so unexpectedly, to then have my friends and people who know of me but actually know me, write on my wall and hashtag my name, horrifies me. In this digital age, we depend so much on our online profiles to reflect what we want our lives to be, that we have stopped living. We Instagram our food before we eat it, we check our Facebook before getting out of bed and how many likes our selfies get determines our self-esteem.
Yet, when our fateful day comes, no one will remember our status’, funny tweets or new buys from Topshop, but the things that count, our quirky ways and those nights that no photo or words can even explain. I am not, by any means at all telling you to ditch it all completely, I am simply suggesting we make the most of what we have and throw our iPhones aside just for a few hours!
Since Peaches tragic death, more than 90,000 people have newly followed her account on Twitter.She was resurrected by a hashtag and her name. Is it the hashtag that is so offensive – inviting the idly curious and excitable to an online wake, perhaps to post the acronym "RIP" – its full wording presumably being too long-winded to hold attention? But at least it wasn't that heinous thing, an emoticon. Can we take solace in that?
Mere tributes, some say: it is touching, a reaching-out to a stranger now lost. But is it really? To me, it feels like entertainment posted on to a random face, a hand clutching blindly for something vivid. I am aware that we all grieve in different ways, and I do not judge you, but a mere tweet or comment on Instagram is so impersonal that is seems unjustifiable.
I don’t know why, maybe because I am a secret hater yet avid user of social networking, but this recent media disgrace and terrible loss, has changed my outlook. The possibility of it all being over one day, so unexpectedly, to then have my friends and people who know of me but actually know me, write on my wall and hashtag my name, horrifies me. In this digital age, we depend so much on our online profiles to reflect what we want our lives to be, that we have stopped living. We Instagram our food before we eat it, we check our Facebook before getting out of bed and how many likes our selfies get determines our self-esteem.
Yet, when our fateful day comes, no one will remember our status’, funny tweets or new buys from Topshop, but the things that count, our quirky ways and those nights that no photo or words can even explain. I am not, by any means at all telling you to ditch it all completely, I am simply suggesting we make the most of what we have and throw our iPhones aside just for a few hours!
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