The other day, a scene caught my attention at the Natural History Museum. There was a woman in her twenties, presumably not older than twenty-four, standing in front of a dinosaur-like skeleton that was roughly 150 million years old. A majestic piece of history that represents years of paleontological work. She was not the only one having this moment as I too was present as a silent observer soaking in the atmosphere of the moment, whatever that was.
The Dinosaur model was not the only thing getting attention, she was also getting a lot of attention and to my surprise, she was also a fantastic photographer, so equipped with a camera, the woman took a total of 17 pictures, each in a different pose. I assume for each pose, like the toddler beside me who was trying his best to capture the new phone he had, provided her a sense of self-esteem. Given these flashes came from her phone camera and not a professional camera, I assume she did not capture much besides her own reflection, which I guess is self-explanatory. Now, this does happen every now and then but for some reason this time around the incident has left me a bit baffled.
The strangeness she exudes doesn’t stem from nowhere and that’s because she adopts that persona because we live in a world where bald faced narcissism has become very normal. It is something that has spread like wildfire across the globe. It seems like common n public spaces have become the go to places for people to parade around. For some reason every single moment, even those that seem to lack excitement completely, need to be documented.
It would baffle even the most detail-oriented Victorian diarist to keep up with society’s frenzy today. This past week, I had the misfortune of trying to enjoy coffee at a cafe with an Instagram-ready exposed brick wall that barely conceals its desire to be photographed. I watched an unimaginative young couple who spent the better portion of an hour taking photos on the wall’s various angles in off-the-shoulder poses as if they were some sort of cast infatuated with theater.
Since I was seated in line with them and the wall, I got to see a good chunk of the pictures they actually got. I must note that the couple did try several variations of one pose, and with strong conviction, I can say it’s a wonder they did not lose their composure midway through the shoot. It’s impossible for me not to state that there is something cultish in character behind the act these two performers put on.
My patience ran thinner as the plates grew colder. In a moment of exhaustion, I leaned forward toward the barista standing behind the counter, offering a silent salute of exhausted understanding and desperate virtue signaling.
Navigating through an array of travel destinations while taking selfies is simply not her first time being on such “selfie tours”. My personal favorite way to take a trip around the world is to immerse myself in unique historical wonders and unwind to the outcomes of the stunning eras that formed these enormous landmarks. Those were the days!
Contemplating on today’s self eager society, I don’t need to be a time traveler to fathom an entire culture revolving around clicks for pictures, with the phrase – What’s on the agenda for today? The top of my list has got to be Selfie on a vacation! Not to mention, slapping captions like – Soaking in the Eiffel Tower – adds quintessence to post. Instead of “How does the Eiffel Tower’s structure look?” people are more inclined to ask the question, “What would I look like wearing a swimming costume next to Eiffel Tower?”
Back in the time of having only 20 to 24 exposures on a film roll, I had the ability to cherish every moment and contemplate each click. My argument is that the self sustaining camera can replace the SLR in situations needing stealth, and moments upon which capturing is mandatory, repay the favor. The addable phone encasements are, in my opinion, the worst. Transforming polite people with varying levels of sanity into unreasonably cruel kinds of folk deserve my title as telescoping wands of self importance.
At the Metropolitan Museum of Art, my focus on one of the paintings was ruined because a lady using a selfie stick with a colossal attachment was trying to fold herself into the picture she took right next to Monet’s water lilies. Almost hitting me in the face was her pole’s aluminum tip. Frankly, if more than an inch of metal skate board stick was sailing toward me, it was bound to injure me.
In my modesty, I wondered whether merely confined to her picture-with-a-dream-world where Monet’s work gets set on fire hole. “I’m preserving moments in time,” was her reply while performing the poses she previously took before resuming the shooting. Creating memories.
It is unkind to go that far in the name of ‘memories’. As if only shredding it into bits digitally, to a pool of distant relatives would suffice, and if they treat it as casually as their neighbor’s unwanted festive ornaments, then oh no, what a sin to humanity this would be. To make it clear—I don’t mind photography, I too possess a camera.
It’s a habit of mine to ask someone nice to help me take a portrait by handing them my camera. Yet what baffles me is how so many people seem to develop some obsessive need to document not just their life in real time but also the lives of the people around them. There was this one time where a gentleman was recording an entire concert on their phone.
At least in theory, he should have experienced the performance like everyone else was, looking surrounded by people with slightly irritated expressions and frantically waving to him with the intense hope that he would join them in the real world. He was not even immersed in the performance like someone who would be in a terrible seat at a concert hall would be. And everyone else would be annoyed but adjusting their line of sight. At some point I stopped paying attention to whether I was looking at him or his phone because by this point it was pretty clear from my vantage point at the stage that he did not want to hear everything was set to.
This phenomenon is both worrying and interesting which prompts me to wonder what lies behind it vanity?
Is it a deeper fear of being forgotten?
The age we live in suggests that humans do need a reason to feel acknowledged at least to prove that they did exist at some point in time.
Everyone nowadays tends to doctor their lives using social media and present themselves as if they have lived a perfect life. I suppose its why everyone considers themselves famous these days even without the glaring talents needed to achieve such.
Profoundly unparalleled to me, as I attempt to explain to her, Fame.
Ever since I learned to associate this word with her, I cannot provide tangible proof when paying attention. The so-called famous people tend to outnumber the ordinary given their supreme achievements and talents. I suspect this is now true as almost everything has become available to everyone.
The blaring tragedy isn’t the selfie-culture harassing scenic museums or charming monuments, it’s what self-centered individuals are missing while focusing on themselves. I remember last summer at the Grand Cayon, I was amazed watching a group of teenage girls with a smartphone trying to take a perfect leaping picture with the canyon in the back as they’re self elegantly posed mid air.
Instead, they siphon gas with the camera staring into that magnificent chasm, instead, canyon becomes a glorified hole in the earth. Hovering over a marvel fueled by the indifference of centuries worth of nature while self indulging in the reflection, trying to make the best out of life. I suspect each one of us is blessed with head scratching behaviors tailor made for the eccentric life spawned into a different generation.
My father couldn’t fathom spending money on bottled water when there’s perfectly good tap water right next to it. My father’s parents were bewildered when they saw everyone glued to flashing boxes. Maybe we will bump into something ever so stupid that is bound to replace the fixation on selfies.
My doubts remain unanswered. You can never be too sure of something unless sightings of it are nearly non-existent. Otherwise, it may point to something else—a sign of deeper cultural change towards performative living where experiences are not about their worth, but rather how they can be performed or packaged for other people.
What conclusions, I wonder, would future archeologists draw from our digital caches? Would they judge that we were a culture deeply enthralled with our reflections, incapable of visiting a place, attending an event, or having a meal without framing it as yet another self-portrait-provoking backdrop? Would they be baffled with how, for some strange reason, the need to maintain the illusion that we were different from one another required so many copies of so many identical images?
Yesterday I saw an old couple in the park. They were side by side on a bench, superglued hand-in-hand, feeding pigeons. There were no phones in sight, and if they were documenting their experience in any way, the couple would go unnoticed.
They appeared to be enjoying a simple moment, and I felt that it would be nice to have the same experience today. That couple seemed to be out of place in time! That’s perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the selfie epidemic. It isn’t the discomfort or the occasional craziness, but rather the sentiment that in attempting to document everything, we save nothing truly significant.
Pardon my interruption, but there’s a coffee shop located close by which claims its lighting makes patrons look a decade younger. I need to beat the rush of people posing for pictures who are blocking the door.
