In the name of “research” I took a couple quizzes on Facebook.
Definitely not because I was bored or distracted.
Definitely for research.
Definitely.
On the first one, I had to stop halfway through. And by “halfway through”, I mean at the first question. The “how much of a good person are you?” quiz was particularly unfulfilling with its objective options. You can’t ask me “would I take a handicapped parking spot” and then fail to add among the four options “put up my dad’s handicapped placard, cut off the old lady waiting for the place, and take my sweet ass time shopping”. So,my first impression of these online quizzes was already off to a bad start.
Then there was the zombie apocalypse one.
Obviously – if you know me at all – my interest was piqued. Yet, it also failed me before I could get past question one. “What color do I like?!” Are we being serious here? Well, in present everyday life where people only eat creatures who can’t talk or defend themselves and not other people – I like normal colors. But in after-worldly dystopia where we’re all trying to avoid the Behemoth with the giant axe whose head spews out coins when you kill him (and I still don’t get that part of Residence Evil 3 – please someone explain it to me if you’re reading this, kay thx)? Yeah, AshleyPants’ pants are gonna be camo and blendy. ‘cause if Romero taught me anything, it’s that zombies are only half your concern. The point remains, however, that the color I like NOW has nothing to do with my apocalyptic fashion choices later. The only takeaway concession I can make in defense of this quiz is that it made me think – if the EAS comes on saying there’s been an outbreak, put on some drab ass clothes to mix in easily with my surroundings later – before procuring food and other supplies.
Option one:
(Actually this is such a perfect apoca-ensemble it could’ve been done by Mattel. Move faster on skates and the trolley can zombie block to save you time as well as store food. Well done, World’s End Ken).
But my biggest disappointment ironically came in the form of success: the 90’s music quiz.
I got maybe one or two wrong on this sound bite based quiz where you hear only the first second of a song. Considering the last time I heard some of these was back when I was still working on the John Travolta shrine that still hangs in my room, I was both elated and depressed. This feeling shouldn’t be new to a bipolar bear like me, but it was. Maybe it was nostalgia.
Or maybe it was the next quiz I took that guessed I look like Christina Hendricks (who, although gorgeous, makes my rhomboids hurt just by glancing at her girls).
Or maybe I was just still upset about how half-assed all these questions were.
Much like the infographic going around listing the most likely names of crazy ex girlfriends (I’m number one – but don’t let that undermine what I’m about to say), these things are bullshit barometers of where you stand as a human being or where you’re headed. Much like religion or social constructs, they’re like a stupider version of reading your horoscope from the back of a fashion magazine. But even relying on astrological mysticism wrought from a bored brain and scrawled in between beauty ads is better than these ridiculous online time eaters. At least the former makes you stop and try to internally relate your life to the info Alice at Allure plagiarized from her fortune cookie at lunch.
But even then, it’s all the same at the day’s end. You know where you stand in life and what you’ve gotta do to change what you don’t like. You also know – deep down in your cardiac dungeon – whether you’d be eaten first when Resident Evil finally happens, or whether you’d make it to season 5 of Dead.
Not that it matters since Facebook’s already spoiled the rest of season 4 for me.
Girl, who you tellin’? I cry e’rytime too.
And Facebook’s also spoiled any hope I have for humanity with these viral quizzes. What if you were to make one of these things that you knew everyone would share – questions and answers and all? What would yours say? Could you be trusted to decide what’s right or wrong or diagnose the ignorant with pop psychology labels they’ll probably believe are true?
Bottom line: Facebook’s not a crystal ball or a DSM.
And even if everything in your life’s dictated by the cosmos, it ain’t gonna show up in Cosmo.