April Fools - A MySpace Memory
April Fools has always been my favorite holiday (you know, right after my birthday).
I love the idea of a holiday devoted to clowning and practical jokes. A day where getting the best of someone is just seen as well planned spectacle. No greeting card company invented this holiday. There’s no candy on sale at rite-aid… well, there is — but it’s for easter. My point is there’s something pure about April Fools Day. There’s nothing you put into it other than ingenuity and effort and there’s nothing you get out of it other than a good story.
The sad part is I don’t even typically pull very good pranks — if any at all. I lack the inspiration to plan that far in advance. I don’t have the will power to devote a whole day to one person’s foolery. I wanted to make a youTube video for the channel I work for but I got overloaded with work and they didn’t seem to keen on the idea anyhow.
I did get it right once though. I’m grateful for that.
It was either my senior year or the year after that I pulled it. This was the time of MySpace and password free wi-fi. Where if you had a Mac you had both the best computer on the market and also the most esoteric. You also had the disappointment of one of the worst presidents all time being re-elected into office after the Democratic party couldn’t elect a candidate that could appeal to the common man (oh the simpler times).
I had managed to hack a friends MySpace account. In his trusting naïveté he had told me the password to get into this student account in the High-school Library. A harmless thing nowadays what with the way we have four fucking personal questions to answer just to pay our internet bill, but back then it wasn’t uncommon for a person to have one password for everything. And sure enough my friend was just such a person.
It was a very puerile joke too: just make his myspace very gay. You know: gay by the standard of an eighteen year old living in the aughts and having just discovered how to use toxic masculinity as a method for bedding women. Real typical juvenile alpha male shit — but this is also MySpace so…
I think I had expected a bigger win when he found out. Maybe some sort of congratulatory bow of submission. A bend of the knee perhaps. Something public and grand acknowledging his defeat at my hands. Instead he simply sent me discreet Aol Instant Message that it was a “nice trick” and then immediately, within only hours of my having vandalized his online altar, changed it back to how it been — as if nothing had ever happened.
I guess there's always next year.